CHAPTER FIVE

Azan

 

Stars and effing moons. What is wrong with me?

I’m not entirely sure what’s happened, but I am aware York’s sparred me in the face and retreating back to the Gathering Room. Because I told her to leave. Because I’m a fucking coward.

I should go to her, but I’m not sure how much it will mean since I’m the one who asked her to go.

But I was afraid. That sounds horrible, but it’s true.

I’m so afraid of her and afraid of what she’ll think of my disease.

My body and my mind are at war, and as the saying goes, everyone loses during a war. There are no true winners.

I certainly didn’t win anything today because I went from having an aroused York in my room, to standing alone, cradling my chin, and slightly surprised she struck me in anger.

She had every right to.

What kind of male am I to accuse of her being with another and when she is not mine to accuse? What kind of male stands there stroking his cock, while making these accusations? What kind of male am I to allow York to touch me and then turn into a coward when she wants me to pleasure her? I cannot pleasure her with my mouth. I can never kiss her, and I do not trust myself enough to fuck her. So, what do I do?

I panic. I kick her out.

And now, I’m pretty sure she hates me.

The question comes again, what is wrong with me?

I am not only cruel to York but to myself. She is attracted to me, yes. I see that now. I know now I am no better than a moronic dembrong sprog for thinking she would give pleasure to someone else after spending the day with me. All of these things make it obvious that despite everything, York cares for me. She not only cares for my company as a friend but possibly as a lover.

But what about when she finds out I cannot pleasure her in the ways my brothers can?

I’m nearly left breathless by the idea of her with another, but I would rather lose her now, than later when I’ve grown more attached, and she pulls off the mask. Ugh, and I still don’t exactly know why I shouted I had never pleasured another woman – with my mouth – or otherwise. Likely, she will find me less suitable than ever. I have given her an out, and she ran away. She wanted me to chase her, and yet my feet would not move.

I want her, and yet, I don’t want her. I want her to want me, but I fear her wanting more from me than I can possibly give.

I am a horrible, horrible man.

Punching the wall to my right, I allow the curtain to fall, but it only takes a moment for me to realize others must have seen York depart.

Dolan strides in without so much as a tap, and he smiles as I settle on the bed, clutching my head.

“What happened?” His voice sounds surprisingly concerned. “I thought you would keep that one for the night once you brought her back to your room. She certainly did not seem to protest.”

“I sent her away.”

“You… what?” Dolan sounds almost as confused as I feel. “Why would you do that, Azan? Didn’t you hear what the tiny one and Hujun said? She was pleasuring herself, not another male.” When I don’t answer, Dolan takes a few steps closer. “That’s what it was, correct? Your Chosen was pleasuring herself and fell asleep?”

“I have not Chosen her.”

Dolan barks out a laugh. “So that’s what it is.”

I snap my hands down, sit up in bed and fix Dolan with a glare. “So that’s what what is?”

“You chased her away.” Dolan shakes his head, and I narrow my eyes further. “That’s what you did, isn’t it? You’ve convinced yourself, yet again, that no female could ever love you with your condition.”

“You make it sound so silly.” I rub the spot on my chin again, trying to remember how York’s hand felt there.

“That’s because it is, Azan. Condition or not, you must give females a chance to reject you before you reject them. Otherwise, you are never going to find a Chosen. And no one knows better than me how much you want one. You want a family. You want to be a kind parent because our parents were never kind to you.”

I swallow hard. I hate how my needs are so childish, but he’s right. I want a family. I want to be a father to as many sprogs as my Chosen is willing to carry. I would be happy with one. I would be happy with hundreds. I simply want to be a father and have a woman in my life who will smile upon the sprogs like Mama never did to me. My mind drifts to York, and I can’t help but think of her stomach filled with my sprog. Our sprog. The thought makes my cock stiff, right in front of my little brother, but I don’t care.

“You cannot understand what I’m going through.” I lean back in bed again. “You’ve never been rejected.”

“Oh, you’re wrong, Brother. I am being rejected right now.”

This catches me off guard. “By who?”

“The young looking one.” He frowns, pursing his lips and drags his hand through his short pale hair. “I have tried to tell her what a fine mate I will be, but she only eyes up Exer.” He hisses. “Exer, who barely has any scales, is now seen as quite attractive because humans are the same. It’s also annoying because Exer has told me on numerous occasions that he wishes nothing to do with the sprog faced one. But how will I be able to stop him if something changes? Perhaps he will decide to stop waiting on the bloody haired one, and then all will be lost.”

I had no idea one of the human women was rejecting Dolan’s serious advances, but I also see how his same predicament may apply to my problem. I must get over my fears and open up to York before she finds happiness with another. I pinch my eyes shut, trying to imagine her with a scaleless Exer or my brother Dolan. I fear what I would do. I do not like to spar, but I am the best besides Hujun, and if someone took advantage of York, I would probably rip out his throat.

“Do you think she will leave me if I do not tell her about my disease?” I am not worried so much about talking to Dolan, and it dawns on me that he and York are one of the only ones I speak to so openly, besides Korben.

“Your condition,” Dolan corrects. “I don’t know, and I don’t spend time with you two privately, and honestly, after smelling the privacy stall in the Gathering Room, I’m not sure I want to. I think you are worrying too much, Azan. They are not like Sidyth women. They are human women. Whores, no less. We paid for them, so they should be grateful for any spoonful of kindness we are offering them. We could all do a lot better.”

A hiss escapes my lips. I do not like thinking of York in this way.

Dolan picks up on my rising anger and quickly amends his statement.

“Look, if you want to choose her, then choose her, but do not play games, Azan. If you’re worried she cannot or will not love you because of your condition, then you must show her and let her decide. Then it will be up to you whether to believe her or not. But you must let her decide. If you care so much, give her the chance to reject you, but also give her the chance to choose you.”

I frown. What Dolan is saying makes sense, but that does not mean I like it. To remove my mask means she will reject me. I cannot bear the thought. I rather she is angry with me and be my friend than being disgusted with me.

“Are you hungry?” Dolan asks, probably hoping to change the subject.

I scoff. “I am not.”

Dolan sighs loudly, annoyance written all over his familiar features. If I wasn’t in such a bad mood, I would provide a speech of my own. To remind Dolan that simply because these women are whores, does not mean they don’t deserve to be courted. He probably thinks the sprog faced one should pay attention to him simply because he is doing so with her. But it is not that easy. Exiled on this rainy planet, titles no longer matter.

My Prince has Chosen a Human Whore for his mate.

Nothing is unusual anymore.

“I’m going to go, Brother. Your mood is starting to depress me.” Dolan moves towards the curtain and shoves it aside but not before tossing another look over his shoulder. “Show her, Azan, and let her decide. If this matters so much to you, let her reject you. At least then you can move forward.”

Once he’s gone, I’m left alone with my thoughts. Or rather, everything I’ve done wrong in the past few hours.

I accused York of pleasuring one of my brothers.

I stroked my cock in front of her without shame.

And when she wanted me to open up to her, I not only sent her away but I informed her of my inexperience with women.

I am such a disgrace.

Pinching my eyes shut, I allow myself to become momentarily lost in what little good transpired. I remember York touching my thighs and brushing her fingers across my stomach. She does not seem to mind my scales. If she truly will be mine one day, this is a good thing because I have one of the most scaled dicks on the planet. Prince Korben himself has been impressed, considering I have never given myself to a female. I remember York telling me about all the parts she likes about me and how her lips moved with each gentle sentiment. I remember how soft and sweet she can be with me, despite how loud and confident she is with the other women.

My hand lowers to my cock as it continues to swell and grow, and I wonder if this ache for release is what York experienced the night before.

Was she thinking of me and touching herself, like I am doing now with memories of her?

The thought makes me groan, stroking the length of my cock a few times before easing it out of my shorts.

I continue to think of York’s soft, pink lips and the sharp words that come from it.

The differences and the similarities.

She is a small one, York, but that does not make her any less terrifying and strong. I love hearing her snap at my brothers with such confidence while nuzzling under my arm. She can speak her mind because I will keep her safe. I will never let anyone harm her. Unfortunately, that may also have to apply to me. I have hurt her. I made her think it was okay to touch me, and then I sent her away. I cannot forget the look of hurt on her face, and I slow down stroking my cock, focusing on it. Her eyes. Her downturned mouth.

York is strong, but she is not impenetrable. I can hurt her. I did hurt her.

The way her face crumbled before she landed a spar on my jaw, I must never forget that face.

I cannot pleasure myself now. I do not deserve relief.

I reach instead and touch the place where she hit me. Of course, it does not hurt, she could never hurt me, not physically at least, but I have done something so much worse. I made her cry. I do not deserve her. How could I have been so stupid? I brought her to my room; I smelled the heat between her thighs. I tasted it. It reminded me so much of the rain my people loathe but I love.

I can take no more. I have to see her.

Storming from my lair, I notice some of the others bustling around, but I do not have time to focus upon that.

Korben, however, runs directly up to me and seizes my shoulders.

“Your Highness? What is wrong?” The words tumble from my lips, seeing his distress. Korben is another person who I will give my life to, to keep safe.

“Azan,” he gasps. “What have you done?”

I frown, narrowing my eyes. He thinks I’ve done something to York? He’s about to be disappointed.

“She’s gone,” Korben hisses. “A few of our brothers saw her running down the halls. Giving the women so much freedom was a bad idea—”

I don’t wait for Korben to finish, practically knocking him down to get to the main exit.

“It’s raining!” Korben calls, but I don’t know why he’s bothering.

York has gone to the surface. I must follow her.

 

***

 

I push past Glykoran who stands at the gate to the doorway, not bothering to ask how someone as tiny as York was able to get past him. Does it matter? Maybe she lied. Maybe Glykoran took one look at her hurt expression and let her go. I don’t care. I’m the one who chased her from my room, and so she ran outside.

The rain dances against the muddy earth when I emerge to the surface, and I take a shaky breath, realizing how hard and fast I must have run to get here. In a panic, I wonder if York’s tried to get to the second lair to get away from me. Does she know the way? Will she be able to see through the downpour?

“York!” I cough loudly, not used to speaking in such a loud voice. I enjoy the quiet, but I cannot allow this to keep me from finding her. I have to find her. I have to say I’m sorry, and I have to show her that I will be afraid no longer. I must give her the chance to reject me.

The rain continues to fall, and dark purple and pink clouds roll across the skies overhead with occasional thunder, shaking the ground below my feet. This is a fast-moving storm, but it is also a dangerous one. I can only hope York will try to reach the second lair, and I head in the direction where Wixlass is likely standing guard. He’s also a fan of rain, so it would not surprise me if he were keeping watch and took notice of my tiny Chosen.

Mine.

“York!” My feet are sloshy from the wet earth, but I trudge on, needing to see her face. If I am having trouble slicking through the mud, I can only imagine what she’s going through. Panic strickens me to where I’m almost unable to breathe. Horrible thoughts of her being taken… by anyone… or anything on the surface. I must not lose control. I have not lost her yet.

And then… there she is.

I narrow my eyes, almost unsure what I see at first. A figure, only a few feet away, that is not moving. It’s sitting in the mud, bareback and smooth skin exposed to the heavy rain. The tiny body takes a beating from the rain but doesn’t seem to care, sitting there with bare legs pulled up against her chest. She is not running, so what is she doing?

“York,” I say again, low enough that I hope my voice will travel to her ears, and sure enough, she turns around, her face barely visible through the rain. I jog forward, splashing up rain and mud as I do, but she is the only thing I focus on. She watches me in silence until I stand right next to her huddled form.

I want to be angry, but more than anything, I am relieved.

Cocking my head to the side, I wait for her to say something.

“Didn’t think anyone would come out here to find me in this weather.”

She would have been right. If not for me.