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I brought the jug to my lips. Swallowed and shuddered. “Gods, I forgot how awful this stuff is!” It took a moment for his words to sink in. “Wait! You’re planning something, aren’t you?”
“I have to get you out of here,” he said. “You’re even more of a threat to Starn now than you were before. With his final act, the old man became a martyr to the Cause. But you’re still alive. Still able to stir up unrest among the prisoners because of what you stand for.”
“The warden stays in control of Zibaru by keeping his prisoners half-starved and exhausted,” he went on. “But we outnumber the guards here one hundred to one. You’ve given the others hope that if we band together we can rise up and defeat him. Just like we can defeat the Federation. Grain may feed a man’s belly, but hope will feed his soul.”
I looked at him, surprised. “That’s a very wise saying. Where did you learn it?”
“In your world knowledge is found between the pages of a book. In my world, wisdom lies in the words spoken by our elders when they’re gathered around a campfire under the stars.”
This time I wasn’t just surprised. I was stunned. I choked down another mouthful of Zibaru’s best hooch and handed back the jug. “I owe you an apology. At our first meeting, I saw only the clothes made of animal hides and the weapons made of stone. Like many others I was taught beings from worlds that did not possess modern technology were less intelligent. Incapable of deep thoughts and feelings. But I’ve never heard a learned scholar express anything more profound. My ancestors would have hailed you as a true Renaissance man. You have the body of a warrior and the heart of a poet.”
He grinned. “Don’t forget the cock of a stag radogo.”
“I’m not sure what that is but I’ve seen your cock. Based on that, I’ll bet the female radogos are always smiling!”
He pulled me into his arms. “No more talk. Today the gods blessed us. We are together and we are alive. Tonight we fuck... and then we sleep. Tomorrow we make our plans.”
“Yes, Master,” I murmured.
* * *
He was dominating asalways but the sex that night had undertones of tenderness, as though having death touch our lives so closely made us value each moment we spent together all the more. He fucked me with long, deep strokes, taking both of us up slowly. And instead of commanding me to orgasm, he murmured, “Come for me, sweet Ree. I want to look into your eyes when our souls become one.”
He locked his gaze with mine. With one last thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his cock pulsing as he filled me with his cum. My pussy spasmed around him. Lost in the depths of his eyes, I exploded. Shattered into a million razor-sharp pieces—then burst into tears.
Kaal stroked my hair and held me until my sobs were spent, his cock still semi-erect inside me. When he withdrew, he laid on his side, tucking me tight against his body with one arm around my waist.
Moments later, I could tell by his regular breathing that he’d fallen asleep. He never asked me what was wrong. It was just as well. I couldn’t have answered him because I didn’t know myself. I rarely cried and I’d never burst into tears after sex before. I only knew I’d experienced more than an intense orgasm. At that moment, something happened in me. Something overwhelmed all my emotions at once.
I laid there for hours, replaying the scene in my mind again and again, trying to figure it out. I knew I’d never find the answer in a book. “When our souls become one,” he’d said.
The realization didn’t hit me all at once. It didn’t even come as a coherent thought. It was more of a feeling. A feeling that grew until it filled me with a warm bright light I had no name for. So I called it joy.
Kaal hadn’t fucked me. It wasn’t just sex anymore—for either of us.
We made love.
Chapter Twenty
Kaal
I lay still for a long time after I woke, unwilling to make a move and disturb my mate’s rest. She was exhausted. She’d driven herself nearly mad with grief and remorse, blaming herself for Harald’s death.
The tears she shed after we fucked didn’t surprise me. On Rylos, females cried. Males expected it. They didn’t just cry when they were punished. They cried when they were happy. They cried when they were sad. They cried when they were angry. Sometimes they cried when they needed a good fucking—and then they cried after they got it.
