Chapter 24
They lay in bed side by side, though Nahash’s tail took up most of the bed and spilled onto the floor. At least, that part of it that wasn’t coiled over her.
“You think we’re going to wake up soon?” she asked, staring at the popcorn ceiling above them as he stroked his fingers through the damp hair at her temple.
“I don’t believe this is a dream. Not as we understand it.”
She turned her head to meet his eyes. “Really? It feels like a dream. Not the kind I normally have, but the kind I would like to have.”
He smiled at that, barely parting his lips so she didn’t get a good glimpse of his teeth. “So I pleased you?”
She laughed, her bare breasts jiggling in a way that drew his gaze, then his free hand, which fell to the one closest to him to massage it and tease her nipple.
“I think you know you did,” she said, gasping a little as he played with her sensitive nub. “Did I please you?”
His hand paused on her breast as his hungry gaze returned to hers. “You could not possibly doubt it, Casss. I didn’t believe this kind of feeling—this kind of hunger—even existed. I truly can’t get enough of you, and I never will.”
Rather than reassuring her, his words caused a spear of regret and sadness to shoot through her heart. She pulled away from him as she sat up. He propped himself up on his palm, watching her warily, perhaps wondering why she’d suddenly tensed.
“I’m just…,” she tried to find the words to answer the question in his eyes, “I just don’t want this to be because you need me to survive. I want you to be with me because you want me.”
He reached for her. “I do want you!”
She scooted away from his hand. “Because you need me. Your body tells you that you want me, but if you could choose—“
He leaned towards her and grabbed both of her arms, holding her firmly to prevent any further retreat.
“Listen, Casss.” He bit off her name, then shook his head at his uncontrollable hiss. “If I had the freedom to choose, I would have chosen you without question. Your body promises paradise, but that’s not the only thing about you that I appreciate. I could spend hours talking to you without noticing the passage of time. I admire your courage and compassion, and I’m intrigued by the way you look at the universe. I’ve never met anyone like you, and there isn’t another woman in this entire galaxy I would rather have than you.” He touched her cheek. “Some Iriduans believe that the female we imprint on is our fated mate—our destiny. They think the stars align to bring us to our mate, so she’s the only one who triggers our imprinting. I never believed that before I met you, but how can I possibly deny it now, when you’ve crossed an entire universe to be in exactly the right place for me to find you?”
As she opened her mouth to respond, he leaned in to kiss her. This time, his kiss was soft and gentle, more exploratory than consuming.
When they broke apart to catch their breath, she swept her finger along his scaled brow. “Your eyes aren’t dilated. Are you still engorged?”
He smiled shallowly, keeping his teeth mostly concealed behind his lips. “My body is sated, for now. I can still grow aroused and bring you pleasure, but I won’t experience engorgement from that arousal until some time has passed.”
“I guess that’s probably a good thing. We really need to figure things out. This place is too perfect. I’m worried about what’s really going on.”
He nodded. “I’m worried that we haven’t concerned ourselves with that yet.”
Her eyes widened as she processed his words. “What exactly do you mean?”
His gaze took in their surroundings, before returning back to her face as if he couldn’t look away from her for long. “Don’t you think it’s unusual that we aren’t more worried about this anomaly?”
Thinking back over the time since they’d been there—time that had spent making love instead of investigating their situation—Cass couldn’t help but agree. It was strange that they hadn’t been more concerned after their initial fear had calmed. Even now, she wasn’t really afraid or worried, just mildly curious about what was going on.
Into her thoughtful silence, Nahash answered his own question. “At the very least, I should have done a sweep of the buildings and checked the perimeter for potential threats. I didn’t feel the need to do any of these things. I had no desire to. Even now, I’m forcing my curiosity because I know logically that it’s right, not because there’s any deep concern.”
Though his words were disturbing, his tone matched her feelings about it. He sounded casual, as if he were discussing the weather. There was no sense of urgency in how he said what he said.
“So,” she ran her fingers along the sleek scales of his arm, “what should we do now?”
His gaze heated and his tail tightened a bit around her legs, tugging his groin area closer to her naked body. “We should get up and explore this place to understand it.”
She nodded as he leaned to kiss her.
“Yes, we should,” she murmured against his lips.
He deepened the kiss, and Cass lost herself in his embrace as his tail curled around her, positioning her to straddle his groin where his two erections were now hard and ready for her.
********
Days later, Cass stood on the porch, watching Nahash force himself to check the trailer, then do a perimeter check. They’d spent the majority of the past few days in bed making love, or eating the food that appeared for them whenever they thought of food, before returning to bed again.
The only hiccup in their bliss was the fact that they both knew it had to be unnatural. Though there had been desire between them before they’d entered that station, Cass—at least—hadn’t been ready to take things further with Nahash until she’d stepped into this place and suddenly decided to go for it—as if all her inhibitions were swept away, leaving nothing behind but her raw feelings, which she’d been too afraid to acknowledge.
Now, neither of them were very inclined to leave the bed, and had to force themselves to do so because they enjoyed being in that bed together more than anything else. Though she ached from having so much sex with him, she still welcomed him every time he grew aroused, and not just when he was fully engorged and actually needed her to finish him off.
They spent their resting time between marathon lovemaking sessions talking, but even in that, it seemed difficult to discuss this place and what it might really be. Instead, they’d talked about each other, their pasts, their childhoods, and the people they’d known. Nahash told her all about his time in the military and the horrors he’d seen. She’d told him about her career on Earth—which seemed so hollow and empty to her now—and about her love for animals, and how she’d always wanted a dog, but her father wouldn’t let her get one because they required too much attention and care.
The more she fell for him, the more she dreaded the inevitable search for a cure to his need for her scent. She hadn’t discussed the idea of searching for one with him yet, because she knew he would shoot it down and say it wasn’t possible, but Cass wasn’t one to be daunted from a seemingly impossible task. She’d made a commitment to free him from his biological urge for her.
It was just that, now, she really wanted to keep him, and she knew that if he didn’t need her, he would have more options. Such as those that took him away from Earth—a planet where he would have to constantly hide and always live in fear of discovery. It made her stomach ache to think about losing him.
Perhaps that was one reason she wasn’t eager to leave such an idyllic place—whatever it might be. In such a perfect, isolated existence, she faced no pressure to make a decision about the future, and no fear that one of them would have to part from the other. They could just enjoy their time together and spend every waking moment absorbed in learning each other, both body and mind.
The more she learned of Nahash, the more she loved him. He’d been driven by a sense of duty and honor that had been instilled in him since he’d been hatched—the knowledge that he’d hatched from an egg still seemed strange to her, but she loved that he was strange. He believed that he’d betrayed his duty and honor to his people because of his imprinting, but Cass suspected it was more complicated than that.
When Nahash talked about the scientists who’d changed him, or the ruthless and uncompromising culture that pervaded Iriduan society, she sensed his disapproval and even disgust at what his own people did “for the greater good.” Their behavior stood at odds with the very honor they’d instilled in him from birth.
She got the impression their actions had been bothering him for a long time before he even met her, though she didn’t think he would ever openly admit that, even to himself. His sense of duty still hung over him like a cloud—the only dark shadow their new home seemed to allow.
He’d done what he was told to do for his empire, but it hadn’t sat right with him. In a way, Cass felt like being imprinted on her might have freed him from them. It gave him the only excuse that would allow him to justify to himself his decision to cast his duty and loyalty aside and embrace rebellion against his empire. He did it to protect her from them—from what he knew they were capable of if they didn’t get their way.
Those thoughts did nothing to darken her mellow mood as she watched Nahash slither through the waving grass around the silver trailer, his mottled tail nearly hidden by the tall grass in need of a good cutting.
They’d already checked the house thoroughly, and now he’d checked the trailer, so their next step would be to head out towards the boundary of the property where the thickly planted trees blocked any further view. Since she knew this wasn’t really Earth—it couldn’t be—she didn’t expect they’d find the neighbors she’d seen every summer, but they might find their rundown old trailer home deteriorating in their cleared, packed dirt yard.
When he motioned for her to join him by the old fire pit where she and her father would roast marshmallows for s’mores on warm summer evenings, she made her way down the wooden steps and crossed the grass towards him. As she passed the fire pit, a campfire crackled to life and the morning light overhead dimmed as a cooler breeze kicked up, carrying the scent of wildflowers and wood smoke.
She paused, staring down at the campfire as the sun went down, deepening and lengthening the shadows cast by the pine trees. Beside the fire, on the stumps she and father had used as seats, sat a bag of marshmallows, a six-pack of chocolate bars, and a box of graham crackers. Beside that, her granddad’s old guitar leaned against the seat stump.
She heard Nahash approach by the sound of his tail sliding through the grass.
Then he was behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rested his chin on top of her head. “A campfire?”
“S’mores and songs,” she whispered, feeling the rush of being taken back to those lazy summer evenings when everything had been simple and each moment had seemed perfect, because she’d been with her father and he’d never disappeared on her during their annual two week summer vacations.
“Can you show me?” he asked, curling his tail around the stump as she broke away from his embrace to lean down and pick up the guitar.
She nodded, tuning the instrument by ear as he set the s’more fixings on the ground beside the stump, then settled on it.
He fell still and silent as she began to strum the guitar, the notes taking her back to those days when her father would play songs for her until she’d begged him to teach her. He’d patiently showed her how to position her fingers on each string until she could play every note. Then he’d sit for her “concerts,” beaming at her progress. She’d practiced for many hours in his absence, just so she could see that proud smile on his face during the summer.
Cass played a few of the songs that held the most meaning for her before setting the guitar aside. Nahash had remained silent throughout her performance, but when she stopped playing, he rose up on his tail and reached out to brush away the tears she hadn’t realized she’d been shedding while she played. She’d wondered why her vision had gotten so blurry.
“Why do you cry, Casss? Your music was the most beautiful I’ve ever heard.”
She swiped an impatient hand over her eyes, then stepped closer to him and hugged him around the waist, laying her cheek against his chest. “My dad taught me how to play the guitar. He was so proud of my skill with it that he gave me his father’s guitar when I was still just a kid, even though it was precious to him and I could’ve broken it.”
He stroked her hair with one hand, the other settled on her lower back, pressing her tighter against him as he guided them backwards to the stump. “Why do you speak of him with such sadness, even in this place?”
She understood what he meant. This place didn’t want them to be sad or afraid. It seemed to stop them from feeling negative emotions, yet some hurts went too deep for even their eternal dream to completely block them.
She’d already told him she’d been raised by her father, and that she’d lost her mother before she’d had a chance to know her. She’d explained about the tension between her and her stepmother, and the resentment she felt towards her stepbrother and sister, who were much younger than her. Shame always filled her at acknowledging that resentment, though she couldn’t help the fact that she felt it.
In Nahash’s culture, siblings were born in clutches, and the females were separated before they even hatched. Males and females grew up in segregated crèches, never knowing their sibling of the opposite sex. They spent some time with their mothers as juveniles, but that was more about the female’s pheromones bringing on their metamorphosis as she spun their cocoons than it was about nurturing. The majority of their education and care came from unrelated males—just as the majority of the females’ education came from unrelated females. They didn’t form families like most humans did, barely recognizing familial bonds, though their government kept strict records to avoid inbreeding—most of which wasn’t a problem due to their reproductive biology. Imprinting on a close relative only happened in very rare cases.
Cass had told him about her family, trying to make explain concepts that were foreign to him, but she hadn’t told him what caused her deepest pain. “My father spent most of my childhood working. He made a lot of money. That financial success was important to him. I often thought it was more important than I was. I tried to make him proud. I tried to become just like him. So maybe, he would spend more time with me. Maybe, he would take me with him on all those business trips.”
She spoke in short bursts broken up by deep breaths, worried that longer sentences gave her voice too much time to quaver with tears she didn’t want to shed. “When I was a teenager, I got into some trouble. I was arrested along with some friends after we broke into my neighbor’s apartment. We did it because we were stupid and rebellious. We were all spoiled rich kids with too much money and freedom.”
She could still remember the neighbor’s dog, Samson, watching her and her friends drunkenly rampage through the penthouse, confusion in his eyes as they tore things apart. Samson hadn’t barked at them. He’d known her. She’d spent a lot of time with him and his owners, when her father’s work kept him from coming home until late in the night.
She’d trained Samson to do tricks that charmed his owners, walked him almost every day, and gave him treats and petted him every time she saw him. Because of that, he hadn’t barked once as they’d vandalized the apartment, though he’d whimpered in fear at their violent behavior and cruel laughter.
“The incident scared my dad. He started preparing for an early retirement, though I’d sworn I would never hang out with those friends again. By the time he was able to permanently retire, I’d straightened up and was preparing to leave for my freshman year at college.”
She didn’t know if Nahash knew what college was, but she’d gone too deep into her memories to stop and explain.
“He was finally home all the time, but I wasn’t. I rarely made the effort to visit him, especially when he remarried and started having new kids. I figured he didn’t need me anymore.” She shrugged, struggling to explain in a way that would make sense to Nahash, who didn’t understand family bonds and the incredible burdens they placed on people.
“He missed me, but I didn’t find that out until later—when my stepmother handed me a box of letters he’d written every week while I was in college, but that he’d never sent. He’d apologized in those letters for not being the parent he should have been. And me—I’d become just like him—completely focused on my financial success. I didn’t realize how shallow my life was until he went into the hospital. I barely had a chance to rush to his side to hold his hand to say goodbye before he slipped away from me—this time, disappearing from my life forever.”
Nahash pulled her into his arms as her breath came out in gasps. She struggled not to unleash her tears. It was too late for crying. She’d screwed up, and now she’d never have the chance to make amends. Her father had left a job he’d loved so he could spend more time with her, and she’d abandoned him for her own career.
Nahash needed her to be there for him. This time, she wouldn’t neglect the man she loved. She would always make time for him, no matter how many other things demanded her attention. Nahash would be her first priority. She’d learned the hard way that the only way she could truly love someone was to make them the center of her life, which was probably why it had taken her so long to commit her heart to another person. If she gave everything of herself to a mate, then she needed them to do the same for her. Nahash’s very biology made it impossible for him to do otherwise.
Talking about how her father’s career and her own career had taken over their lives made her wonder about how Iriduan employment worked. It gave her an excuse to change the subject onto a less emotional topic—one that interested her enough to distract her.
She pulled away from him enough to look up into his face, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. “Do Iriduans ever struggle when it comes to trying to decide what you want to do in life?”
He accepted her abrupt change of subject without comment; by now probably familiar with how she avoided emotional subjects. “Either we volunteer to imprint, or we serve our empire in any capacity they require of us. In my case, the military best suited me. And then…..” He didn’t finish.
She pulled him closer again. “I know, honey. I know what they demanded of you—what they had no right to take from you.”
His hands fell to her shoulders, his fingers toying with her hair as he looked down at her. “I did as I was told. There were some things I should have questioned more. There were situations that didn’t look right to me that I should’ve objected to. I could have done more, but I didn’t. If you must seek blame for what happened to me, it rests on my shoulders.”
She shook her head and leaned into him. “We’ve paid a high price for our mistakes. Perhaps we should stop beating ourselves up for them. I say, it’s time to think about the path we want to take from here on out.”
He eyed her as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her sudden mood change. “And what path do you want to take, Cass?”
She chewed her lip as she thought about that question, still not sure what the best answer would be. It was difficult to think about the future in this place, but at some point—if they ever woke up from this dream—she needed to make a decision.