The Roswell Affair by Anne Bordeaux

Author:Anne Bordeaux
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-04T17:07:42+00:00

Chapter Three

Love. Love. Love. Love. All night, Breccon lay in his prison, looking at every angle of love. They had a word like it in Rune-Yonian, a word he didn’t know if Katharine was ready to hear. Ress. When two warriors were joined, their spirits were consecrated in the spirit of ress. Literally, it meant something like, to catch the blade. In practice and by lore, it meant that a Rune-Yonian would only declare ress if he loved his mate enough to sacrifice himself in battle for her alone.

Breccon compared the two words. Katharine was his salvation, his protection from the monsters with their guns and masks and the woman who would rescue his people. Could she be his ress? His love? His heart knew the answer, and when she entered his hangar, once again dripping from the decontamination shower and carrying an archaic, rusting metal implement over her shoulders, he couldn’t help himself from shouting her name.

“Katharine!”

“Breccon.” She dropped her pack. Did he imagine that she sounded as happy to see him as he was to see her? He focused on the heavy metal tool she carried and his hopes soared. Unless she was planning to bash him with it, the only task he could assign it was breaking his chains. Freeing him at last. Twice a day, his captors drugged him and let him stand, clean himself and relieve himself, but now, he would be free. He could touch her.

She made quick work of the chains, humming to herself as Breccon watched her work. The song carried on her breath, an unfamiliar melody that lodged itself into Breccon’s blood, passing through him like life-giving oxygen. His right hand went first, then his left. As she worked on releasing his ankles, he rubbed at the sores cut into his blue carvings. He wanted Katharine to kiss the wounds, to heal him like she healed that enemy warrior in her story.

“There. All done—”

No sooner had she clipped the final link of bondage than Breccon was on his feet. Her declaration got lost in her throat when his strong arms encased her, pressing her every inch to his in a chaste embrace.

At least, as chaste as he could manage wearing nothing but his baltea. As chaste as he could manage as he reacted to her fragile, humanness locked in the protective hold of his strength. As chaste as he could manage when he wanted to pin her against the nearest wall and show her how warriors treated their ress. As chaste as he could be with his hard cock straining to taste her wetness once again.

At first, Katharine stiffened under his embrace. He balked in reply, afraid his sudden fervor had frightened her off. Little by little, she relaxed, tucking her head into him, tightening her arms around his waist. Breccon breathed in her scent. There was nothing like her on his home world. He knew not how to name the smells that swirled around her; they didn’t exist anywhere but here.

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