Freed By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett
Chapter Ten
N’ameth sat on one of the empty storage crates at the edge of the camp. There were a few groups of people drinking tea and talking quietly, but he didn’t join in with any of them. He stared at the ground, defeat etched in every line of his hunched shoulders. He looked exhausted.
She took a breath and walked over to him. She catalogued the instant he knew he wasn’t alone, but ignored it and came to stand beside him. Every other interaction they had ended up in conflict. Even the best sex of her life. Maybe it was time to remember they came from completely different cultures. This morning, they had inched carefully toward an understanding.
As did I.
Her heart ached. For what he’d gone through as a child and what he was still going through as a man.
“Sascha,” he said quietly as she stepped up close. As if he knew she was there and had been waiting for her to turn up.
“Did you find Xar’ta?”
He hung his head, almost in shame. “No, but I can’t risk he is simply dead. My king will send me more warriors tomorrow.”
Because he had failed. He didn’t say it out loud, but Sascha heard it anyway. “It wasn’t your fault.” He made no comment, and Sascha gazed at him, wishing she could say something to help, anything.
“We found more bodies half-buried under rocks.” He said it like they had been desecrated further. “From their size, I doubt if they were more than seven cycles.”
So that was it. Children. Wordlessly she stepped forward, and he opened his arms instinctively for her. She pressed in, for once at his height because he was sitting down. He breathed out another sigh and dipped his head so that it rested on her shoulder and closed his eyes. She could hear the slight rumble from the plates on his chest and smiled to herself. It was almost like he was purring. “At least they will rest now.” She knew the Ishtaans believed that the afterlife was achieved only when their spirits were sent to Ash’dar. She was silent for a moment. “I used to teach children.”
N’ameth didn’t respond right away, but then he muttered, “It is something else I have ripped you away from.” He said it like a final nail in the coffin and lifted his head, drawing back. Like they couldn’t come back from there. That hadn’t been what she meant, but before she could explain, he started to say something else.
“I—” He stopped abruptly and lowered his head. As if something pained him.
“What is it?” She knew there was something wrong, something else, and he raised his eyes to her face.
“I shamed myself last dark. I would never—” He stopped again, and concerned, Sascha stepped forward, but he didn’t open his arms again for her.
“What is it?” He was silent for another few seconds, and she gazed into his pain-filled eyes. “Tell me.”
“I forced you,” he whispered brokenly and lowered his gaze.
“Forced me?” Sascha repeated incomprehensibly. “Forced me to do what?”
“You said I didn’t respect your wishes.”
And understanding slammed into her. She pressed closer and laid her palm on his smooth cheek. It wasn’t covered in stubble and she didn’t think they grew beards or shaved, but there was a fine dusting of hair on his chin similar to the hair on his head. He closed his eyes as if welcoming the touch but at the same time accepting it would be fleeting. “I was talking about the diversion. The plants. That you wouldn’t allow me to help.”
His eyes opened wide, and guilt slammed into her, remembering what Brey told her. He thought she was accusing him of that. “I didn’t mean what we did together, which was amazing. I am more than capable of saying no, and I would absolutely trust you to accept that.”
His expression immediately lightened, and he let his head fall forward against her chest in relief. She stroked his hair soothingly, and he was silent so long she thought he might have gone to sleep.
“I don’t think you are incapable. I am struggling—always—between my duty and my fear you will be hurt. Especially because of me.”
Sascha might have melted a little bit more.
“You wouldn’t be the first to be hurt because of my carelessness.”
“What?” Sascha couldn’t believe N’ameth had a careless bone in his body. Impetuous, yes, but he seemed too focused to be casual.
“It is true that Razorr was looking for a space passage when his ship disappeared, but what most people don’t know is that he had gone further into the Dark because he was following me.”
She kept up her soothing fingers through his hair and waited for him to explain.
“I was trying to prove myself. I desperately wanted my brothers to be proud of me. Razorr’s cruiser was the newest model. He could outfly practically anything the Alliance had, and he’d made many changes and upgrades that most pilots can only dream of. But that day, our sire had summoned him to the Assembly for something trivial. Razorr was angry because they had gotten a faint magnetic signature the day before and it might not have still been there the next daylight. The Telmar’s instruments are highly sensitive, much more than my own cruiser, but I thought I would try. Even then, we were hoping for a miracle to save our race.”
He was silent for a minute as if gathering his courage.
“I can never repay either of my eldest brothers for what they did for me. What they prevented.” His voice caught, and she wrapped her arms around him as far as she could. He didn’t know that she knew what he meant, and it was breaking her heart.
“I set off, full of confidence. Egotistical enough to believe I could be a hero. I found the signature, except it wasn’t the same. Our space passages can be formed from gravitational waves that can make the area so dense it creates negative mass, except this one was the largest I had ever encountered, and because I was ignorant of the consequences, I flew too close. The hull immediately started to sheer apart, and my cruiser wouldn’t have withstood the force even to reach the opening, and definitely not so once I started going through.” He swallowed and took a steadying breath.
“What I didn’t know was that one of the warriors working on the shuttles had seen me leave, and he contacted Razorr. Razorr immediately ran back and got the Telmar in the air to come after me. He reached me just as the hull breach was imminent and put the Telmar between me and the space passage. It was enough to break the force and release my cruiser so that I could get free, but because the Telmar was so close, he was sucked in before he had the chance to escape.” N’ameth gazed at Sascha, tears darkening his eyes almost to teal. “He saved my life. He kept the Telmar there too long so I could get away.”
She blinked her own tears away and kissed his cheek. “What would you have done if it had been Razorr in difficulty? Would you have flown to him even though your cruiser isn’t as capable as the Telmar and would have likely resulted in you dying?”
“Of course,” N’ameth said brokenly and then, “I know what you’re doing.”
“Then you know you aren’t responsible for the decision Razorr made. You didn’t know there was going to be a supersized hole thingy.”
“Supersized hole thingy?” N’ameth repeated as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“Whatever you call it,” Sascha whispered, her mouth very close to N’ameth’s. She nudged his knees, and he moved a little so she could sit down on the crate, and he pulled her close.
“I love you there. Where I can touch you. Know you are real.”
“If you had told me you didn’t want me to come to the mines because of Xar’ta, I would have understood. I could have quite happily waited another couple of days.” It needed to be said. She wanted him to understand.
“I should have thought before I reacted. You confuse me.”
And she knew why. It was her turn to be clear. “Are you sure it’s me?”
He blinked. “You?”
“That I’m who you want? I have a lot of control issues. I’m used to being in charge. I won’t be easy.”
He smiled slowly. “Who says I want easy?” And he kissed her. It was gentle. She could have pulled away at any point, but knowing that was more of a turn-on. He stopped and held her close.
“How old were the young you taught?” he asked after a while.
“Four,” she said fondly. “Which means about three of your cycles?”
“I can hear the pleasure in your voice.”
She smiled as something else occurred to her. “You have elders who teach older children, yes?” N’ameth nodded. “I know there aren’t many younger children at the moment, but who taught them when there were?”
“Their families. The poor simply weren’t taught because they were expected to work early on, and care for them was impossible.”
“You mean child-care?” And a germ of an idea started in her head, and she remembered what Rachel had told her. “Is that still a problem?”
“I suppose it is. To my shame, it isn’t something I have considered. What skills did you teach?”
She smiled, so pleased she turned and dropped a kiss on his cheek. He drew his palm up and touched his cheek without seeming to realize what he was doing.
“The very young ones mainly learn life skills. How to share, cooperate, take turns, follow simple directions, that sort of thing.”
“It is a good grounding for a warrior,” he pronounced and tugged her closer to rest his head on her arm. She watched as he seemed barely able to keep his eyes open. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, lifting his head. “I’m getting you all dirty, and you smell wonderfully clean.”
“Why don’t you get a shower? There is food saved, and I can make you tea.” He nodded but still didn’t move any further. She watched as he blinked slowly. She didn’t doubt he was half-asleep already.
“You don’t have to wait on me, my—” He paused and corrected it to just “Sascha.” And of course, because she was insane, she missed the possessive way he had addressed her before.
“I like belonging to you, my prince.”
The sound in the back of his throat was more animalistic than anything she’d heard before, and his eyes sparkled. “Maybe we can belong to each other, my Sascha?”
He stood, simply lifting her flush with his chest, and for once she didn’t care that there were warriors and miners still awake and that they were probably putting on a show. She kissed him thoroughly, then reluctantly slid down. “Come on.” She gently took his hand and led him to one of the cabins with a shower unit, and he went docilely. He looked exhausted, and she hated to see the defeat in him.
They walked in, and he turned. “Stay?”
Should she? If she stayed, it meant she was all in. This was it. She turned around, pushed the door closed, and locked it.
