TICEES (79 page)

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Authors: Shae Mills

BOOK: TICEES
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He looked at her longingly as he smoothed over her. She had lost the puffiness of the fluid retention acquired through the pregnancy, but her softness had been replaced by a disturbing gauntness as slow emaciation consumed her once-superbly fit muscles. Stose had once again removed the IVs in hopes that she would begin to nourish herself, but Korba knew they would have to be replaced soon.

When he finished bathing her entire body he tucked the blankets tightly around her. He kissed her forehead tenderly and brushed a solitary lock of hair from her cheek. “Come back to me, my beautiful lady,” he pleaded softly, but she did not respond.

Korba sighed. He needed sleep, and he rose from the bed reluctantly. He watched her a moment longer and then began his lonely trek to the security and comfort of his private blue room. He had thought briefly of lying with her, but he did not want to shock her with his presence if she awoke, and so he would sleep alone.

*****

The late evening drifted into night as Chelan’s eyes opened. She took a deep, shaky breath and strained to focus her vision against the dim light. She rolled to her side and pulled a pillow to her chest, hugging it tightly. Tears formed in her eyes, and she began to rock herself.

The hours passed, and she wept, but for the first time since her arrival on RIBUS 7, her tears were rooted in reality. Her consciousness awoke, and she confronted her assailants head on ... covering it all since the beginning. She remembered her family, said good-bye to her home, and relived her abduction. She rehashed her tumultuous emotions over Korba’s departure during the Rigilean mission, lamented her brush with Izan’s disease, and expunged her trial with Solis’ blade.

Then came the images of Fremma with Lena, and Korba with Marri, and the tears continued. Visions and emotions intermingled and clashed until ultimately she was on Iceanea. First Korba left, then Fremma, and then her precious Dar.

Ticees forced his way into her thoughts, looming over her like a harbinger of death, and her heart erupted in a blaze fuelled by hate. She reached for his neck, attempting to squeeze the life out of him, but he flipped her on her back as his image fragmented and dissipated, his essence erased and replaced by Shan. His powerful body washed over her and in her, filling her with their baby. And then she cringed at the loneliness, the loss, the grief, and the shock.

More hours passed, and she mourned silently. Slowly, the images dispersed and faded, and she was left with an overall dull ache, a momentous void, an overwhelming emptiness.

Chelan opened her eyes. She had been alone so much over the past seven Earth years since she’d left her home planet, and she did not wish to be alone any more. She rolled onto her back and looked about the familiar chambers, and her heart was jolted into a spontaneous rhythm. The long-lost familiar pulse of the ship seeped into her soul. “Korba?” she whispered. She reached for a pillow and held it to her face, inhaling deep, his scent the elixir her troubled soul needed to finally heal.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, straining against weak and protesting muscles. She drew the blankets off, and she shivered. But, for some reason, her skin’s responsiveness to the iciness felt good. It was familiar, and it indicated that her body was becoming sensate once again.

Chelan swung her slender legs off the edge of the bed and hunched forward, her world tilting. Her vision blackened, and she held her head until she regained her senses. Carefully, she stood on unsound legs, steadying herself with a chair, and she shivered again. She removed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it tightly about herself, and for the first time in weeks, she took her initial steps into the tangible.

Chelan descended toward the dimly lit Command Center and looked about it. A small tinge of warmth invaded her, and she smiled. “Home,” she whispered, and she stepped away from the wall.

Almost instinctively, she walked toward the workout area. The emptiness of the Command Center did not cause her to panic. Loneliness was now one with her soul, but somehow she knew that she would no longer be on her own ever again. Korba was not in sight, but a comforting semblance about her heart told her that he was near. He had to be. He would never leave her again, and of that she was certain.

Chelan’s shuffle toward the blue room was long and arduous, her weakened body constantly berating her for her neglect. But soon, she reached her destination, the room doors parting silently, and she stepped inside. She squinted, but her eyes were unable to combat the darkness. The doors closed, and she stood very still.

Suddenly, there was motion, and she held her breath. The room lights came up slightly, and before her on the bed sat a cautious and anxious man, her Warlord. Her body began to quiver as she looked into the handsome face, the brilliant azure eyes, and the shimmering, long, blue-black hair.

Chelan took a tentative step toward the frightfully still Commander, her eyes locked to his. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

Korba rushed to her and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, Chelan. I’ve missed you so desperately, and I, too, love you so very, very much.”

Finally, he drew her back and looked down into her warm beauty, her large brown eyes penetrating to his very soul.

Chelan’s slender fingers feathered over the contours of his face, and then she spoke, her soft tone betraying her uncertainty, “Will you take me back?”

Korba moaned and squeezed his eyes tight. “Chelan, in my heart, you never left. I do not have to take you back, for you have always been deep within me.”

Chelan sighed with guarded relief. “But I’ve caused you so much pain.”

Korba shook his head at her. “You did what you felt was right in your heart, Chelan. None of this would have happened if I had listened to your words and your fears in the first place. It is I alone who is responsible for the desperate pain endured by both of us. It has served as my punishment for my abandonment and the brutality mounted against you. You deserved none of this, and you will take none of the blame.”

Chelan looked deep into his eyes, and her heart went out to him. She knew him all too well, and she knew that nothing she could say would lessen the guilt that he had levied against himself.

She broke their embrace and stepped around him. She looked about the soothing room and then moved up to the bed. She drew the coverings back and closed her eyes momentarily. Was she really back? Was he really with her? Chelan opened her eyes as she let the blanket drop. She lay down on the bed, coiling up against the cold, her back to him.

Korba looked down at the small, white form before him, his heart swelling with a love for her so great that it staggered him. He saw her shiver, and immediately he stripped away the confines of his ebony uniform. He moved in beside her carefully, his body tense. He held his breath, almost afraid to touch her lest she dissolve into the night.

He drew the blankets over them and laid his head down. Only then did he realize that he has holding his breath and his chest was aching. He exhaled slowly as his fingers brushed tentatively over her frail shoulders, and he shut his eyes, praying that she would accept him.

Chelan did not hesitate, his light touch beckoning to every fiber of her being. She rolled to him, pressing her porcelain body into his tawny flesh, and Chelan slept peacefully and securely for the first time in years, her Warlord once again by her side.

Chapter 32

The morning light came and went, and soon it was noon, but still Korba did not move. He had been awake a long time, but he was not going to let his sleeping beauty out of his arms. Her head was cradled in his powerful arm, her breath soft on his chest. He kissed her forehead and languished in her familiar alien scent, the soft feminine fragrance unique to her and capable of arousing every emotion he possessed.

He ran his hand down her slender back and winced at her prominent hipbones, the result of the ravages of grief, depression, and isolation. Suddenly, she stirred, and her eyes shot open as she gasped for a breath. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her motions frantic. Every muscle in her body was rigid.

“Chelan,” he whispered as he stroked her face, and immediately she relaxed, slumping against him.

It had not been a dream. He was with her, and she hugged him close. After a long interval of gentle caresses, Korba looked down at her. “Are you up to walking, or do you wish to stay here?”

“I want to be with you,” she whispered.

Korba smiled. “I’m not letting go of you, Chelan. If you want to stay here, then I will also. It’s just that I think you have a very anxious and attentive visitor lurking somewhere outside.”

“Fremma,” she breathed, and Korba smiled.

Chelan’s eyes sparkled, and Korba kissed her pretty lips for the first time. He moaned in ecstasy at the simple yet so intimate touch of love. He looked down at her, her face alight with renewed life, and he sat up. “If you wait a moment, I’ll get you some clothes.”

Chelan smiled and nodded as she hugged his pillow to her. She watched as he slipped his hard, masculine body into his military uniform.

He paused, soaking in the visage before him, his angel once again by his side. She flicked her hand in his direction, shooing him away, and he obeyed. Korba ran to his chambers, grabbing her white gown. Then he slammed his hand down on the security switch.

“Lazen, my Lord.”

“Lazen, find Fremma. Tell him to come to the Command Center immediately. Tell him that there is someone here who would like to see him very much.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Korba returned promptly to the blue room and found Chelan exactly as he had left her. He sat down on the bed and helped her sit up. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I think I’m in dire need of a long bath, not to mention an entire overhaul.”

Korba’s eyes gleamed. “Nonsense. I have tended to you myself over the past weeks, and you have met my every stringent criterion.”

Chelan looked at him in surprise. “Weeks?” she repeated.

Korba smiled. “As usual, my Lady, you know how to make your man wait.”

Chelan smiled back, her angelic beauty aglow. “Was it worth the wait?”

Immediately, Korba’s face grew serious. His fingers smoothed over her cheek and to her pretty pink lips where they lingered. “You’ll always be worth the wait, my Lady. Always.”

Chelan blushed and then reached for his hand, kissing his fingers gently and hugging his hand to her.

Korba felt like putty, his heart still not fully comprehending that the gorgeous flower that bloomed before him was back. When her large, fawn-like eyes opened to him, he reached for her gown. She raised her slender arms for him, and he slipped the fabric over her, watching it coat her like sweet cream. As it whispered over her full breasts, he felt a longing so deep within him he ached.

Korba stood and helped her up, letting the gown fall over her lithe body. Chelan looked down at the beautiful white dress and smiled at Korba. “You kept it,” she whispered.

Korba smiled. “Of course. I had to keep a part of you with me always.” She smiled at him, warming his heart but sobering his thoughts. He looked at her carefully. She had lost muscle mass and definition, but it had been replaced by even more feminine softness, her seductive sensuality maintained even through her ordeal. The gown still hugged her full breasts and slender waist, but it was her arms and face that truly betrayed her struggles, and Korba felt a lump form in his stomach. She had been through so much.

Chelan looked back up at him, her features aglow. “Thank you.”

Korba melted. She was the lightning within him. She was still beautiful, and even if she hadn’t been, he would have loved her every bit as much. Finally, he offered her his arm and escorted her out into the workout area, then into the Command Center.

There, she turned and faced him. “It’s a dream come true,” she uttered. “I’m home again,” and before Korba could respond, she stretched up and took his lips.

He felt his knees weaken, and for the first time he admitted to his inflamed desire for her. But he knew that she needed time, possibly a very long time, and he would wait until she came to him, even if it took forever. And even if she never sought his bed for more than sleep, her mere presence would be more than enough.

Then Korba’s heart blistered as his hands surrounded her tiny waist and he noted her small, wispy frame beneath his powerful hands. How could a man as large as Ticees force himself on such a fragile and defenseless being? The man was a barbarian, and yet, he was even less. No punishment that came to Korba’s mind truly befitted his vile and violent crime, and Korba felt his eyes burn. He could visualize Ticees looming over her and tearing into her delicate body, crushing her, forcing her to endure his ruthless and savage entries, and Korba felt like crying out.

He wanted to kill the man with his bare hands. He wanted to tear him apart, bit by bit, casting him into the pits of oblivion as Ticees had done to his woman. But Korba’s emotional and physical control was at the pinnacle of development and refinement. Although he held Chelan next to his heart while his mind raged, she would detect nothing. It was this supreme control that was going to afford him the advantage he needed. He was the best, and as far as he was concerned, he was better than Ticees in every way, and someday soon, that would become dramatically clear.

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