Dappled light played across the bare floorboards, entering the lodge through small clear windows in the roof. The space was partitioned into smaller rooms by sliding panels made of an opaque, paper-like substance.

“You built this place?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“It’s… beautiful.” The interior of the hunting lodge was surprisingly light and airy. The blond-colored material—was it wood or something else?—that made up the walls and floor had been polished until it almost glowed, and it smelled good, like that rare Earth spice… what was it called again?

Cinnamon.

They walked down a central corridor and entered a room bordered by white paper-screen walls. One side of the room was completely open to the elements, providing an uninterrupted view of the lake. A wide verandah extended beyond its walls, providing generous shelter. Dark green barrels lined the verandah, along with various weapons arranged in racks.

The lake house was so open, so free. She’d never seen anything like it in all her travels throughout the Universe. On D5, everything was locked up and guarded; if you weren’t careful, they would steal the very clothes off your back.

The notion of a house with open walls was so alien to her that she couldn’t stop staring.

“When it is not hunting season, we are expected to do the physical tasks necessary to the survival of the clan. In the Clanlands, I build and repair.” Abruptly, Wings wrapped his arms around her, turning her around. He planted a deep kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering for a long, delicious moment.

Below them, the longboats knocked together, punctuating the song of the Ardu-Sai—the gentle hiss of the wind, the lapping of waves against the lake’s shore, the distant cry of some strange and exotic animal—with an uneven rhythm.

Calexa closed her eyes, struggling to believe she was actually here.

Alone. Amidst beauty. With him.

A faint prickle along the back of her neck made her look up. Young One stood in the corner of the room, his face hidden in the shadows. Observing. The flickering light played across his violet skin, accentuating his perfectly honed body.

When had he…?

Such stealth! She hadn’t noticed him following them, and she was usually pretty observant.

A knowing smile curved his lips.

“We are one and the same,” Winged One whispered, placing his fingers under her chin. He tilted her face toward his. “I know what you told him… We know what you have been through in your past life. Where you come from is not a good place.” He kissed the scars along her cheekbones, his lips moving slowly, deliberately, as if paying homage to her rash act of defiance. “My Khira is not like that. Now that the Shadowring is gone and Naaga poison flows through the Ardu-Sai, I can’t predict what will happen to our people, but I swear to you that as long as we are alive, you will never know such suffering again.”

Young One’s coal-black eyes burned through her, but he was as much Ares as the other, and his presence in the room didn’t bother her. Instead, a flutter rose within her chest, making her slightly breathless.

Ba-bump. There went her crazy heart again.

And how could she do anything but surrender when Winged One held her like that, with such quiet tenderness?

“You must understand, Calexa, that our situation is incredibly rare.”

“An ordinary human from a distant part of the Universe jumps through the Silverstream and ends up in the arms of a winged Vradhu and his clone,” she murmured, reaching out to stroke his face. The vicious cut on his cheek had dried. She ran her fingers across it, marveling at how their red blood was the same, even though everything else was different.

“It’s not that.” He captured her fingers between his lips as she traced the black line that ran from beneath his eye to the corner of his mouth. Slowly, sensually, he sucked on her fingers, curling his tongue around the tips before releasing them. “In our culture, Vradhu such as I rarely become mated.”

Young One had mentioned this. “I still don’t understand.” Calexa absorbed his handsome face, imprinting the proud lines and intricate markings on her soul. Ares could be as hard as stone, but he could also be gentle and expressive; his booming, generous laughter was the most infectious thing.

Plus, he was gorgeous.

How could he have any trouble finding a mate?

“Vradhu females do not see Hunters as suitable mates. We are ill-tempered, rash, overprotective, aggressive, and we die young. The elders believe that keeping us celibate makes us better hunters. All that pent-up frustration has to be released somehow, but violence is no substitute for sex.”

“I don’t give a shit about what your elders think.” Warmth surged through her as Ares leaned in and tasted her lips. His kiss was deep and tender, his insistent tongue sliding against hers as Calexa responded with her own burning hunger.

She couldn’t help it. He was just too irresistible.

“And those Vradhu women don’t know what they’re missing out on.” Her voice was a breathy rasp as he tucked his fingers underneath the collar of her combat-suit. “I couldn’t care less what your tribe thinks of you. The traits that turn them off are the very ones I find attractive.” Never in her life had she thought a male could be like this.

“You are a warrior.” He fumbled with the clasp, got the hang of it, and unzipped her from neck to crotch. “I am fortunate beyond my wildest imaginings.”

The way he spoke, one would think she were some kind of deity; a rare, mythical creature worthy of his praise.

But she was just ordinary, messed-up Calexa, a misfit from D5 who had gotten this far through a combination of luck, guts, and madness.

Ares began to purr, his broad chest vibrating softly as she placed her bare hand against it. He still wore his form-fitting Drakhin armor. It was smooth and warm and slightly hard under her hand, like metal skin. The glittering scales molded to his body, accentuating his taut form. Slowly, she reached behind him and ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling his wings.

The gaps in his armor allowed the curious black appendages to emerge from his back. When they were open, they were massive, giving Ares a wingspan that was at least twice his height. When closed, they were surprisingly compact. The strong, narrow bones that made up their frames fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, and the tough black membrane connecting them seemed to disappear, leaving them tightly folded against his back.

Her fingers traced down angular, membrane-covered wingbones. She found the point where his wing had been broken; he shuddered as she touched it. “Don’t you want to get this fixed?”

“Later,” he rasped. “I am at breaking point.” His hands slid across the flat of her belly.

Ba-bump.

“Then how do we get this bloody armor-suit off you?”

“Like this.” He touched some hidden device at the back of his neck, and the suit dismantled into several segments. Ares shrugged, and they just fell off his body, clattering to the floor.

Ba-bump.

He stood before her, naked and glorious. She’d seen all this before, but if Young One was a magnificent athlete, then this was the true warrior. Ares’s life of violence was written in his scars.

His sneaky tail unwrapped from around his left leg and tore off her combat suit before she could even blink. He grabbed her around her waist and pulled her close. “Do you desire me, Calexa?” Rough hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently.

“What do you think?”

His laughter was rich and mesmerizing. She loved it.

Gentle thumbs caressed taut nipples. Something hard pressed against her lower belly.

Her eyes dropped.

Ba-bump.

She knew how big he was, but this was different. Fascinated, she took Ares’s erection into her hand, running her fingers up-and0down its hard length. He stiffened, sighing with pleasure.

Calexa gasped and looked down.

Unlike his clone’s, Ares’s cock was adorned with numerous small, firm bumps, as if something had been inserted under the skin. They radiated outwards from the base in a spiral, all the way to the head, which was moist with his seed.

“I have been beaded,” he said proudly. “Although we Hunters rarely find mates, the beading is done as a rite of manhood, because one never knows…”

“That’s so…” Unfair. Denied the possibility of finding a mate, and sent off to die young? These traditional Vradhu customs struck her as ridiculous, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that, because Ares was lifting her up into his arms and carrying her across the room.

A bed of woven reeds and sky-blue linens stretched out before them. Ares dropped to his knees and lay her down, prowling over her like some large feline predator. “Beading is done purely to give females pleasure,” he growled. “The process is exquisitely painful, but your reaction just then made it completely worthwhile.

“A-Ares…” He was savage and fierce and incredibly sweet, and Calexa wanted to give him an obscene amount of pleasure. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, and there was no guile, no hesitation, no awkwardness. “My other and I have already discussed you in great detail.” He dipped his finger into her slick entrance, making her whimper. “Already, we have many ideas.” He probed a little deeper.

“Unhhh…” Her moan was low and throaty. Her squirm was one of impatience. “What kind of—”

“Nice ones.” He sucked the taut peak of her right nipple as he sank his finger deeper, stretching her. He added another, grazing her clit with the pad of his thumb. “Seems you like this.”

Like it? Her body was on fire, and all she could think about was his huge, beaded cock.

This Ares was impossible. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in confidence. Each stroke of his fingers, each kiss from his searing lips, each satisfied purr was a healing salve on her fragile soul.

Ares’s purring became louder. He trailed kisses down her bare stomach, reaching her groin. Talented fingers were replaced by an equally talented hot, wet mouth, and stars, he was still purring.

The gentle vibrations that originated in his chest rumbled all the way through to his lips.

Lips that were pressed against her clit.

Vibrating.

“O-ooh….” A burst of pleasure made her close her eyes and run her hands over his braided hair.

Ares sucked, flicking her tender nub with his tongue.

Calexa swore black-and-blue in Earthian, wrapping her arms around his neck. Ares maintained the gentle pressure on her clit, each movement of his vibrating lips sending an exquisite tremor through her body.

She raked her hands over tightly closed wings, reveling in his alienness; the glorious black wings were a hard-won remnant of his battle with the Hythra. She didn’t know why he still had them, but she appreciated them all the same.

Her Vradhu was magnificent.

As Ares sent her spiraling into mindless bliss, something made her open her eyes and look up.

Young One was still there in the shadows, watching them. He was so still and silent that she’d forgotten about him.

Her features twisted into an expression of perfect surrender as her chest heaved, her breaths coming in short, raggedy gasps. Sweat glistened on her bare skin. Her lips were parted.

She was utterly helpless, and Young One was staring at her. He captured her with his eyes and refused to let go, his dark face so serious and inscrutable and utterly arousing that she couldn’t look away.

Wings coiled his tail around her waist, gripping her tightly as he stroked her with his vibrating tongue. Rough hands cupped her ass. His warrior’s braid was tightly coiled around her fingers—she needed something to anchor her amidst this wild maelstrom of sensation.

Calexa arched her back as a wild spirit took over her body, sacrificing it to the violet-and-obsidian god who had buried his face between her thighs. In return, he gave her pleasure.

Young One stepped out of the shadows, moving gracefully through the dappled light, his tail weaving through the air in a slow, sinuous manner.

Caught in the throes of pleasure, all Calexa could do was stare. She watched him with a sense of wonder, unashamedly ogling his strong, powerful body. The bandages couldn’t hide his beauty. A rippling torso. Sculpted arms. Muscular legs that could propel him with explosive speed.

A natural Hunter.

All hers, in duplicate.

Ripples of ecstasy turned into waves. She gasped in pleasure and surprise as Young One lay down beside her, a slight wince the only evidence of his discomfort. He cupped her face with his hand as she gasped again, her breaths turning into tiny whimpers.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

Damn you, Ares! She couldn’t speak.

Like stardust, her mind shattered into a million brilliant fragments.

Ares leaned in and planted a devastating kiss on her lips.

All of them.

Young One released her mouth and stared into her eyes until she could take it no more.

She came.

He smiled, his brilliant teeth glittering, his expression both tender and savage.

Winged One held onto her as she crashed against him, engulfing her in his warmth. She closed her eyes and drowned in sensation.

Pure bliss.

Perfect. Just perfect.

She rode the waves of her orgasm until all the tension drained from her body and she collapsed into the soft bed of reeds and fragrant linen. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Winged One trailed soft kisses up her belly, tasted her pert nipples, and kissed her on the lips.

When she opened her eyes again he was there, his fingers raking over her shorn hair, his depthless eyes unlocking the last of her defenses.

She was completely undone, and that was good.

Young One uncoiled from her side, putting a finger to his lips. “Now you are ready,” he said mysteriously, ruining her with one last hot, devastating kiss. Then he rose and stole away into the shadows, a black-and-violet wraith.

Ares existed in two places at once, and if she didn’t know better, she could have sworn the two were communicating by some sort of telepathy.

Winged One gently thrust his fingers into her warm, slick entrance. “Now you are ready,” he repeated, kissing her gently on her forehead.

“Yes, I am,” she whispered.

He entered her.

She howled.

This was Ares—all of him—and he was brutal and scarred and perfect.

His beaded length stretched her, filling her with ecstasy and pain, but even the pain was exquisite. As Ares thrust again and again, his movements carefully restrained, her pain gave way to deep pleasure.

He slow-fucked her until his self-control eroded into wild abandon, his movements becoming more and more savage. He took his fill, and she let him go there. For the second time in her life, she gave herself to her man, and it felt right and good and pure.

This was how it was supposed to be.

Not taken. Given.

She wrapped her arms around his powerful frame and guided him home, embracing her Vradhu, scars and all.

And as he reached the point of climax, pulling her along into his savage undertow, the realization struck her.

This was Khira, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

She’d found her place in the Universe. It was right here, with Ares.