Skye
Entering the clearing in the woods, taking care to make sure that I’m not being followed, I stop every few feet listening. Continuing on hurriedly, the snap of a twig stops me in my tracks. My heartbeat racing, I step behind a tree as a figure emerges onto the path. Taking a deep breath, I pick up his scent.
Balen’s tall, dark-haired, has beautiful brown eyes and is handsome as hell. He’s making his way down the path, and a warm sensation slowly washes over me. The memory of our last meeting’s still fresh in my mind. The feel of his hands as they roamed my body. His lips, his tongue stripping me of every...
“Skye?” Interrupting my thoughts, Balen has stopped right beside my tree. He’s fast. His hand around my throat cuts off my airflow.
“I love it when you play rough,” I make out.
“I could have killed you.”
Ignoring his reprove, I sneak a quick kiss. I’m turned on by his scent, and my feral nature takes over.
“How’d you do that?”
I’m on my way to being stark raving mad with need when his hand making contact with my wrist forces me to yield to his will.
“I didn’t know that I was doing anything,” I snap, releasing myself from his grasp.
A mixed-breed part Centaurian and part human, we lack the qualities of our superiors, the blood survivors as we call them.
“You camouflaged. I couldn’t scent you or hear your heartbeat.”
“Yet you knew that I was here.”
“I could still feel your energy.”
His irritable tone does nothing to deter my need. It’s been a while since I’ve felt his touch, and I’m craving his bite.
“Playtime’s over.”
Stroking the back of his neck, involuntarily his eyes close, reveling in the pleasure. Leaning in, my lips gently touch his, and he responds frantically, pulling me even closer. Straddling his waist, my kisses become urgent and needy. It’s been weeks since I last was allowed to see him, and I want him badly.
My breathing becomes heavy as his lips move down to my neck. Aware that he can smell my arousal, his skin becomes noticeably hotter.
Pausing, fangs protracted, he hungrily bites into me. Clinging to him, my sharp intake of breath forces him to soften his bite. Drawing hungrily and too deeply, it doesn’t take long for my vision to start to blur.
“Balen...” I whisper, trying unsuccessfully to push him away. He’s taking too much, and my physical attack of pummeling him with my fists isn’t working. “Balen!” I manage, and with the last of my energy, I force him off of me. He’s lifted off the ground and knocked back into a tree with such force that it shakes.
On the ground, on my knees, I try to regain my senses, my eyes never straying from him. Unsuccessfully, I try to use my power to keep him pinned to the tree, but I’m too weak. A feeding frenzy usually only happens when they’ve been deprived of blood for a while.
“Is there something that you want to tell me?” he asks from beside me, his quick movement startling me.
Helping me to my feet, I’m beyond annoyed. Standing on slightly shaky legs, I somehow manage a weak grimace that I hope resembles a smile.
“You’re angry,” he says, placing his hands on my waist to steady me.
“I’m not angry, just a little... disappointed.” Trying to move from his embrace, he stops me. Removing his hands, I test my sea legs, walking a short distance. “You see, I’m fine.” He’s watching me intently, I can feel him probing my mind, and in my frustration, I block him.
“If there’s something that you need to tell me, I suggest that you do so now.”
“I have nothing to tell,” I retort.
“I’ve let you have your secrets, as is your human nature, but this I can’t ignore any longer. You’re to report to the genetics lab tomorrow; you’re long overdue.”
I was supposed to have my genetics tested and recorded as soon as Balen brought me here, but I managed to get Balen to postpone it. “Yeah, right. I am not going to the healer to be probed, prodded, and perused. Professor P doesn’t have a gently, empathic bone in his body.”
I think that he’s a racist, hates us humans.
“You will, or I’m taking you there now. You’re due a genetic exam,” he says with finality.
“I told you that I feel fine,” I state, upset that I used my powers of stealth for this shit. The quizzical look that I’m given lets me know that he’d picked up that last quip.
I’m a different breed of half-breed, per my mother—gifted with powers no other half-breed or pure-blooded Centaurian has, and because of this I am to keep these powers hidden, never to use them, but obedience was never my strongest trait. The ability to read minds, move things with my mind, and to not be detected by the senses are my gifts, endowed upon me by my father. To touch someone and to be able to see into their past and at times the future—this was passed down by my mother, as she had psychic abilities.
How a half-breed can do these things, my mother knew not as my father left us behind, and my mother had nothing more to tell me of him before she passed. “You’ll meet others like you, but one in particular you must not engage. You’ll know him when you see him. His scent will call to you, and from him you must run, fight him with everything within you, because he will bring sorrow and death to you. I’ve seen it, and so it will be.” These were her last words to me, she died in a nuthouse raving about her alien lover, my father.
Our supposed-to-be-romantic interlude is interrupted by a loud explosion, and Balen’s in front of me in a blink, shielding me. “What was that?” I ask, watching as fire consumes a building.
“Come on, we have to get you back,” he says, taking my hand.
I pull away from him. I’ve violated the order requiring all humans on base to be indoors between dusk till dawn to be with him. I can’t incriminate him. “I’ll be fine. If they notice you’re missing...”
Another loud explosion stops me from finishing my sentence. What in the holy hell!
An irritated huff from me, and he gets the message, giving me a quick kiss. A reminder of what I’ll probably have to wait another few weeks for, so I’m not letting him off that easy. Pulling him back to me, I stroke his neck again. I’m in love with this man, and my need for him has reached its limits. He’s brought me to sexual fulfillment many times over, but he has yet to give me what I desire.
“I want to stay, but I can’t,” he says.
My hand drifting lower, I make contact with his manhood. Stroking him through his trousers, my heart flutters as he lets loose a low growl, abruptly pulling away from me.
“I’ll come to you as soon as I can,” he states, trying to leave, but I refuse to let go of his hand.
