Light Can Be Gentle

Luminance Prophecies

Nina S. Gooden

Published 2012

ISBN 978-1-59578-905-1

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Nina S. Gooden. All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

Created by desperate scientists within the Forgotten Colonies, Ligers were

engineered for the sole purpose of reuniting humankind with its home planet, currently
overrun by vicious creatures, known as Nihil. However, when an unexplained explosion
forces the debilitated weapons to flee to the arms of their enemies in the military, they
quickly realize they will not be saving the human race anytime soon.

Hagan has always known he was different. He did not belong in the human world but

could never be a part of the struggling Lige. This all changes when a mysterious man
appears, claiming to have what both groups need in order to overcome the creeping threat
of the Nihil.

“Come with me. Trust me. I need you.” His dark, libidinous voice calls to Hagan

from the depths of his psyche. It pulls him forward through an existence he does not want
toward a destiny he fears he cannot fulfill.

It is Hagan who must bridge the gaps between worlds. There is a power hidden

within him, a power that can strengthen the weakened Lige and protect the remainder of
humanity. He is the only one who can fight off the threats they do not see coming and the
extension of both races, but only if he is willing to trust the stranger with his heart and
body.

Dedication

For my daddy, who never flinches when I tell him what I write, as long as I do. You

dared me to try, dared me to succeed, and dared me to write out of my comfort zone, and
though you’ll refuse to read it, I know you’ll follow every review.

Chapter One

Reach for me, I’m here. I’m yours, if you’d only see me.
Hagan stretched his arms out to the voice, the same one he’d heard every night in his

fitful sleep for what seemed like years.

Take me.
“I want you. I want this,” he replied, knowing his husky responses wouldn’t reach

past his nose before being swept away, absorbed into the darkness that blinded him.

I’m here. I belong to you.
Frustration beat at his mind even as the black void pressed into and under his golden

tea-brown skin. Invisible fingertips teased his flesh, pulling and stroking until he was
groaning, begging for the release always just beyond his reach.

You belong to me.
Beads of sweat broke out over his body and he sucked in a violent breath as the

blackness began to shift and swirl into something else. Slowly—painfully slowly—his
eyes adjusted to the changing color and the miasma turned into a mist of gold dust. It
danced across his lips, caressed the smooth, sensitive skin of his back and butt.

Do you want this? Are you sure? Can you handle it?
A familiar, low voice continued to caress him. Warm, sweet breath cascaded over his

body with no true point of origin. He trembled in the air, suspended by invisible hands
that ran down the ridged panels of his abs. Phantom fingers tunneled through his thick
dark hair, leaving his scalp tingling as surely as the rest of him.

You smell good. I wonder if you taste just as nice.
Another kiss was pressed to his neck, hot and promising, only this time he felt the

glide as lips were parted and a tongue stroked along his skin. The breath he was about to
take caught in his chest and morphed into a throaty moan. He reached out to touch it, to
pleasure it in kind, but it slipped against his palms like beads of silky water.

Hagan. Will you find me? Can I touch you?
He gasped into the mist, taking it into his lungs. There had always been this frantic

energy, this desperate tunnel of heat and need he was wrapped around now. But the mist
had never spoken his name; had never known it. Those magic fingers found his nipples
and ran hard knuckles over them until he was pumping his hips into the air.

“Please,” he croaked, all thoughts of pride washed away by the pleasure racing

through his body. “Please, just do it.”

A chuckle thrummed in the air around him and he felt his face flush with heat. So

sweet. Begging, so pretty.

The fingers at his nipples trailed down to where his twitching cock was wet,

glistening at the tip, and he held his breath, waiting for that moment of sweet contact.
Every inch was sheer torture of anticipation and he found himself whispering words of
praise and promise, anything to keep them moving.

“Almost.” He panted, every muscle strung tight as a bow. “Almost.”
The intercom near Hagan’s head burst to life and he hit the hard springs of his

mattress with a violent thud. Digiscreens he had been studying before falling asleep
bounced in the air and landed with displeased whacks around his room.

Stunned and still painfully aroused, he listened as the mechanical summoning droned

on, a rhythmic intrusion to his erotic fantasy. The voice still echoed in his head, filling his
blood with hot fever, but the alarm continued, forcing his eyes to the clock.

Bright green lights blinked slowly, telling him it was after three in the morning. He

had just decided to ignore the blasted intercom when the privacy light blinked from red to
green.

“Subject 01H, you are needed in Limbo. You have fifteen minutes to get down to

Two-Way or a soldier will be sent to retrieve you.” Hagan’s ears rang with the sharp
command from Captain O’Connor. “Hurry up if you don’t want any casualties.”

Dragging himself out of bed, he lumbered toward the seemingly blank wall on the

other side of the room. A quick slap of his palm against the cool surface opened the
operations panel.

“Shower,” he muttered to the neon lines as the system lit up. The wall obeyed

immediately, shifting seamlessly to reveal a black glass steam shower. “Ten degrees
Celsius, almond oil dispense.”

The blast of frigid water chased away the lingering warmth of the dream. He

shuddered under the freezing water, shaking out the cobwebs of yearning it left beneath
his skin.

He stepped away from the shower just as the intercom began a second round of

annoying beeps. “You have five minutes left.”

“I’m coming, damn it.” He growled to the empty room. “It’s not like you would

actually kill one of your precious Lige members.”

As he pulled on a pair of jeans, he got the distinct feeling the room didn’t believe it

any more than he did.

Standing in the welcoming space of his room, Hagan took a fortifying breath.

Leaving his room always made him flinch and this time was no different.

The moment he stepped free of the threshold, he heard the locks click and his heart

rate sped up. He was half tempted to turn right back around, but two soldiers garbed in
black uniforms appeared in the residential hallway.

Shuffling to get away from them, before they could do him harm, he made his way

toward Limbo. The ship was the largest in the fleet hovering above the now uninhabitable
Earth, so he had to pass through a dozen different decks in order to get to the far end
where Captain O’Connor was waiting.

The Mess Hall was full, even at this hour, and he strolled by with an unapproachable

expression. The smells, the clinking of spoons and forks hitting glass, the audible hiss as
the machines rehydrated powdered food, and the incessant hum of low conversation all
made him sick.

He couldn’t stand the thought of forcing himself through another awkward attempt to

acclimate to life on the Nautilus, not that it would help. The soldiers all knew he didn’t
belong. He was different, and they took every opportunity to remind him.

A chill ran up his spine the instant he stepped through the sliding black glass doors

of the deck they called Limbo. A pair of well-armed guards checked his retina scans as
well as his recorded image before letting him through to the frisk. He bore it all with stoic
discomfort, but today there was an additional precaution.

“Just put your hand on the scanner, please,” the attendant for the newest insult of his

personal space muttered when he hesitated. “If you are concerned with the pain, I can get

a numbing spray first.”

Hagan folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve been poked and prodded by you people

enough. I’m not giving you any more of my blood.”

The attendant frowned for a moment before reaching for the phone on her desk.

Before she brought it to her mouth, the cloudy glass separating the security checks from
the observation deck, or Two-Way as it was called, opened.

“What took you so long?”
The attendant snapped to attention when the big man pushed through the opening.

Garbed in the standard black for all soldiers, Captain O’Connor was a formidable man.
Hagan was sure he had some kind of shiny medals that were supposed to be pinned on his
shoulder, but he never wore them.

The hassled man shifted carefully, unable to keep the belligerence out of his voice.

“Well, you know how it is, O’Connor. Nonstop parties and beer make it hard for me to
drag myself out of bed.”

If the captain thought his sarcasm amusing, he was careful not to show it. Instead, he

nodded slightly to the attendant and turned on a heel, fully expecting Hagan to follow.

Limbo was a set of rooms separated by precious clear glass. Hagan bunched his

shoulder uncomfortably, looking down a hallway and straight into each individual room.
They were each built the same way, and each made him a little bit more wary.

Uncomfortable seating lined one wall, and a hovering screen was pressed to the

opposite side of the room. The screens offered some form of illusion that allowed the
viewer on this side to watch what happened in the room on the other side of the panel,
without being seen.

The rooms on the other side were connected by a single hallway with one door set in

the center of them. It was the only visible way into the observed rooms.

At the moment, only a single scientist, easily discerned by her navy blue uniform,

was gazing warily at a monitor, scribbling on a laser tablet.

Unease skittered through Hagan’s body the moment his eyes followed her gaze to the

second set of screens. “They have been calling for you for almost an hour,” she muttered
without looking his way.

He tried to shrug, but his mind was already working in overtime. The figures on the

other side of the glass shouldn’t have been there. Of all of the survivors, they were the
most protected. It had been one of the stipulations his mother had required before
bringing the Lige to their natural enemies. If they were here, whatever they wanted had to
be serious.

Captain O’Connor was talking again. “They’ve agreed to lower the barrier early so

you can go through.” He hesitated slightly, as if debating on continuing. “I suggest you
hurry, 01M is getting particularly anxious.”

Hagan would have responded but the captain had already turned away, signaling to

the scientist. The woman tapped a series of spaces in the air in front of her, and the
viewing screen shimmered like the surface of a body of water. After several minutes, a
door with a heavy bolt across it appeared.

Swallowing hard, Hagan waited while a hulking man on the other side of the door

glared at him. The ripples continued to move over the screen as the intensity of that gaze
hummed in his bones, threatening to turn them into mush. Hagan held his breath for
several seconds, refusing to look away. Finally, the man nodded and the bolt slid open.

“You sure took your damn time getting here.” The man growled. “Did you have

something better to do with your fellow humans?”

Hagan dragged his gaze over the familiar figure before him. Raimi was muscular but

sleek, every motion he made reminding those around him of a cat. The shock of his short
red hair was interrupted by streaks of black that ran all the way to his jaw line. At first
glance, one may have thought the black markings on his skin were ink. His jaw flexed
angrily and the barbs of the birthmark shuddered and caught on the planes of his face,
revealing the true form of his Ligurae.

“It’s nice to see you too, Raimi.” Hagan dismissed him with a cocky smile that didn’t

quite reflect what was going on in his head. He turned toward the other people in the
room stiffly.

Persinna was one of those women who commanded attention the moment she

stepped into a room. Her tall, generous frame was packed with curves that hid her
considerable muscle mass. She was known as the priestess, and leader of the Lige.

Beside her, the small form of Nadira almost broke Hagan’s heart. She’d been one of

the last experiments, a glowing success by all accounts. Her violet eyes swallowed up the
delicate span of her face, and if she hadn’t been a child, the sole survivor who wasn’t an
adult, the shock of her wine-red hair would have been obscene.

“Thank you for coming, nephew.” Persinna’s usually mellow voice was charged with

worry.

He nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the girl. She took a step toward him

and he almost hissed in fear, knowing how Raimi would respond.

She stared at him with black tears swimming in her eyes. “Hagan. Are we going back

to the surface yet?”

The loss in her voice tugged harder at his already quivering heartstrings. Across the

simple room they stood in, there was a wall-to-ceiling window which looked out across
space.

It was easy for him to forget at times. They were orbiting a planet. Outside of the

window, though, there was an ocean of black. Pricks of stunning color dotted the
seemingly unending blanket of darkness. Space, in all its uninhibited glory, was beautiful.
Breathtaking, even.

This made it much more difficult to shift his attention downward to the rotting earth.

He’d seen pictures of what the planet used to look like. All of the greens and blues had
been erased. The spinning mass was nothing but brown and red now, broken. The
atmosphere choked what little air there was left, painting the wisps of dust and debris that
hugged the mountaintops with a gray brush.

“There’s nothing down there for you or any of the others.” He tried to keep his tone

even but it still trembled.

Nadira continued, her soft voice filled with knowledge she shouldn’t have had. “We

have to fight them. We have to help Sister.”

No one knew if the Nihil caused the destruction of the planet or if the planet created

them with its dying breath, but humanity scrambled to survive as they poured out of the
cracks left by the weeping Earth. Most were killed within the first three days of the
spread. After only a week, there were nothing but pockets of humans left.

Desperation forced the survivors to band together under one umbrella and the World

Military Force was created. Platforms were built high above the crumbling surface of the

planet. Originally, the plan had been for civilians to remain on the platforms alongside
soldiers from the combined New Nation.

Instead, after almost a hundred years, humans had opted for doing what they do best:

adapting. The space stations were created in order to protect the scientists and military
personnel, scrambling to find a way to defeat the Nihil and reclaim Earth. All the while,
life had continued. Small, fragile and unstable, the people living on the various platforms
found a way to go on.

Eventually they’d found a way to fight back. The platforms, now called the

Forgotten Colonies, had their own scientists, self-proclaimed Catalysts, and though their
methods were desperate and unethical, they’d created the first Ligers.

There’d been more failures than successful attempts, but at the literal price of blood,

sweat and tears, the scientists created life.

He cringed in sympathy. “Nadira, there’s nothing you can do…” He reached out to

pat her tiny shoulder.

He didn’t even get a chance to bring his hands up in defense. Raimi was in front of

him, a massive forearm pressed against his throat. The brute held it there just long
enough for him to stop struggling before hissing in his face. “You show respect for the
Oracle, Perfidy.”

With the oxygen being cut off from his lungs, Hagan couldn’t tell him exactly what

he thought of his slur, but spitting in his face was a good second option. The roar Raimi
let loose vibrated in the glass wall Hagan was pressed against and he watched as
narrowed eyes housed pupils that shifted into catlike slivers.

“Raimi, enough. We need him, for now, so let him go. I really don’t want to have to

redo my manicure.” The priestess sounded vaguely bored as she issued her command but
he would have needed to be deaf to miss the steel behind the threat.

When it looked as if he would ignore her it was Nadira who gave him pause. “Please,

Bulwark. It is I who has need of him.”

Raimi slowly released him but not before he made sure black dots were swimming in

his vision. A low growl emitted from his throat. “You don’t belong here, human. Do your
shit and get out.”

Panting as he was, the best Hagan could do was a cocky shrug in between gulped

breaths.

The Liger spun on his heel, marching angrily toward the end of the room, but there

was no doubt he wouldn’t go far. He’d been created for the sole purpose of protecting the
important members of the Lige. He wasn’t about to leave them unattended with a human.

It was a struggle for Hagan to maintain his hold of his shaking until Raimi was

across the room. He loosened the tight control he had on his body. Bravado crumbled and
he began to tremble violently as he coughed. Rubbing his bruised neck, it was all he
could do to fight the tears of fading adrenaline.

The priestess shifted to shield his deflation from his attacker, though Nadira was

wise enough not to move. “Why do you do things like that, Hagan? It never ends well for
you.”

The last of the fear drained from his figure in painful bursts and he dragged his hands

through his hair roughly. “If I don’t, he’ll think he can walk all over me. Lige only
respect strength. You of all people should know that, M’fal Persinna.”

He used her rightful title like a weapon but even he knew what it meant. The

priestess, with her wheat-colored hair and eyes the color of cold honey, may have looked
like an easygoing porn star, but he knew better. The lean muscle corded throughout her
body was used, and used often.

She was the Goldemane. It was an honorific won through violence and

determination. She was respected for her ability to lead, and feared for her swift and
deadly retribution against those who attempted to harm anyone under her protection.

“I never said I didn’t understand what you’re doing, nephew. What I don’t get is the

why.” He opened his mouth to explain, but she continued. “Are you not satisfied with
your human life? You have your mother’s sharp mind, even if you lack the brawn of the
Lige. I was pleased when you were made our ambassador.”

He remained silent this time, knowing she would let him speak when she was ready.

It was true, when he had been informed of his new position, the priestess had been as
close as proud as she was going to get.

It meant the Lige would have a trusted speaker on retainer; someone with the

training humans could provide who already knew their secrets. An inside man, so to
speak. Still, even with such an important task, he was an outsider. A human.

“What your mother did…” She paused, drawing in a breath. “What my bondsister

did was unforgivable. You’ve paid the price for her weakness but it will never change.
You cannot be a member of the Lige. Why put yourself through such hardships?”

He reminded himself that for all her tough talk, the priestess loved him. She wasn’t

saying any of this to bring him pain. His hands seemed to fist of their own accord. “She
deserved better than what she got.”

“And you deserve to be a Liger. You were born with us, raised with us, but for some

reason you weren’t altered. Yesha did many of us an injustice with her choice but she
paid for it with her life.”

He didn’t have anything to say in response. Ten months ago, his mother had put the

remaining Ligers in deep sleep and brought them here. It was against their will and not all
of them had woken up. In fact, within the three that had, one was only able to remain
conscious for six hours in a day. He looked over to where Nadira watched him.

“Hagan.” Nadira moved forward and tilted her head back to look up at him. He held

his breath, seeing the violet in her eyes bleed white. Her sweet, childlike voice deepened
with second sight. “The Lige has been cut off from its power source for too long. We
were created to fight, to go to the surface and defend the human race from the Nihil.”

He swallowed, unable to do anything more than to acknowledge the truth. “Yes.”
“We can be reactivated, Hagan. No, don’t shake your head. The answer is here. The

humans have it. The Lige needs you to find it.”

Her tiny hands came up and framed his face, and a shudder ran through him. Each

Liger had a power, though none of them had been able to tap into theirs since Yesha had
taken them away from the laboratory. They blamed their unnatural sleep, as well as their
inability to get in touch with their inner animal, on her.

Hagan fully believed his mother had done everything in her power to save the

struggling species after the Catalysts had been killed in an explosion. That same
explosion burned all of the research as well as the majority of the fully awakened Lige.

All that was left was a small group of Ligers who had never been activated. They

lacked the existence of one of the Aurorae, something none of them knew anything about.
After a year of searching, the only thing they had found out about it was obvious: it

would allow them to use their powers—if it hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion.

“You think the Nation’s Army has the Light?”
A low chuckle was pulled from her lungs. “I know they have something we need. I

know you need to find it.”

“You’re asking too much, Nadira. They don’t trust me any more than the Lige does.

I am between—nothing.”

“You will do this. Ask to see the Ouroboros.”
She was the oracle; he knew it was pointless to argue with her. Even now, with her

palms pressed against his cheeks, he could feel the power struggling beneath the surface
of her skin. There was so much of it that it spilled out, even without the help of the Light.
For the first time he wondered what it would be like if she had full access.

Raimi stepped out of his shadows. Hagan could hear his teeth grinding and quickly

stepped away from Nadira. “It’s time for you to go, human. You heard her. Go find what
we’re looking for.”

Hagan’s eyes flashed with anger a moment before he allowed his most arrogant

smile to spread across his face. “Maybe I will, Subject 01M. Or maybe I’ll just go back to
sleep.”

The glass behind him slammed open and Hagan was pushed through the provided

portal before this Liger could respond.

Chapter Two

Hagan didn’t expect a moment to gather his thoughts, though it would have been

nice. Captain O’Connor was waiting for him on the other side of the glass, with hands
clasped behind his back. “Report.”

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know. Have you and your people figured out why the

two-way communications stop working when I pass through?”

“Give him your report, 01H.”
Frustration bubbled up in his chest. “Why don’t you just ask them what they want?

They’re right there.”

“You know we are unable to do that. Now give your report.”
He rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. “They think you have something of

theirs. Subject 04F wants me to ask for the Ouroboros.”

Years of military training had given O’Connor an exceptional poker face. Even so,

the moment the sentence cleared Hagan’s lips, his face was a vision of shock. A
shuddered mask of distance slammed over his eyes almost instantly, but it was too late.

“You know what I’m talking about.”
Another calculating look spread across the captain’s face. “Follow me.”
The Nautilus was separated into a number of different decks. Each group of decks

made up a larger area, called Halls. There were Halls Hagan had never been into, ones
which were strictly for military personnel. The captain led him through various doors and
chambers, each with heavier security than the last.

Hagan quickly got lost in the maze of smoke ash doorways made with two-way

glass. Every painting and window was placed strategically along the walls, boasting
perfect symmetry. Clean, no nonsense lines were offset by bland minimalistic color.

“Ten months ago I hadn’t been promoted to captain yet. You may already know this,

but I was Yesha’s handler.”

Hagan gave a shrug, keeping his attention focused on making sense of where they

were going. This was old news, something he had known before he’d stepped foot on the
ship.

He could still hear his mother’s soft, charged voice. “Griffith O’Connor is a good

man, Hay. You can put your faith in him.”

He couldn’t remember what had spurred her to make the declaration, but it had been

before—before their lives had been shattered. She’d made him memorize the name,
would ask him sporadically what it was and scold him if he couldn’t remember.

When he’d asked her why it was so important, she’d grown silent and shook her

head. “I hope you never have to know, love.”

“The day your mother initially contacted the WMF, she was met with disbelief.”

Suddenly, the captain was volunteering information he’d never offered before. Hagan did
his best to maintain an air of disinterest, but in truth, he was starving for the knowledge.
His mother had gone through great lengths to keep him in the dark about her plans.

“None of the officers she reached wanted to believe the disadvantaged ‘scientists’ on

the middle-grounds could or would do what she claimed.”

The captain waved him through another door, this one taking a record of their retina

imprints before allowing them to continue. They moved down another corridor, this one
with no doors or windows Hagan could see. It was shorter than the rest, only as long as
three or four mess hall tables.

A blinking screen asked them for security, and when the captain recited a long list of

letters and numbers, the seemingly dead end slid open to reveal a narrow lift.

Hagan crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t know exactly what was above and

below the residential floor, but he knew it was nothing a civilian wanted to see. “Where
does it go?”

O’Connor didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he put his hands behind his back, an

annoyingly militant action. “One of the higher ups demanded proof. She was asking for a
great deal, as you’re aware, and no one was going to just give it to her without some
guarantees.”

Hagan’s arms unfolded. He remembered the months before the explosion that had

wiped out most of the Lige. His mother had always been warm to him. She was kind and
protective, perhaps overly so. He hadn’t understood it then, but it was probably her way
of apologizing for the fact that he was the only human child in a camp filled with
supernatural beings. It had alienated him in more than one way, and he thought she might
have tried to make up for the harsh treatment by loving him as much as the others hated
his efforts to fit in.

For those months, though, she had grown distant; anxious. She’d been easily startled

and had snapped at him for sneaking around, on more than one occasion. Innocent pranks
had become terrorist attacks. It was probably stupid, but he’d just turned sixteen and the
differences between him and the others had been made clear by then. He’d never admit it
might have crossed his mind that she had begun to hate him too.

Hagan’s gut clenched at the reminder of his selfishness. His mother had probably

been suffering, and he’d been hiding in his room crying over the loss of his only friend.
“Why was she so desperate?”

The question must have shocked O’Connor, because he answered without his

ingrained vagueness. “She knew something was going to happen, Hagan. She wanted to
ensure everyone she cared about was taken care of. That included you.”

There was nothing Hagan could do but nod and clear his throat. His eyes began to

sting and he quickly turned to get on the lift. “You said she had to prove it?”

If the officer noticed the hitch in Hagan’s voice, he didn’t let on. Instead, he

followed, punching in a destination when an automated voice asked where he wanted to
go. “Yes, I did. She claimed to be the doctor to a band of genetically engineered
humanoid weapons. We asked to meet one of her patients.”

Hagan stepped off and into a hallway identical to the one he’d just left. A second

retina scanner blinked in welcome before the doors at the end of the hall opened. A pair
of male soldiers dressed in black stepped out of the narrow opening and saluted. “Sir.
Subject is resting quietly, stable but unchanged.”

They said it in unison, creeping Hagan out.
“At ease, gentlemen.” They immediately widened their stance, something he

wouldn’t have believed possible in such a small amount of space. When O’Connor
continued, there was only a moment of stunned silence. “I want clearance for Subject
01H entered into the computer within the next sixty seconds.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

One of them dragged a digiscreen from the air while the other pulled several Eyes

from one of the dozens of pockets covering his body. A visor made out of the same laser
blue nonlight as the screen framed his face, allowing him to work with the gadgets. The
Eyes were palm-sized spheres that whizzed through the air. With no direction, they
surrounded Hagan, puttering in circles for several seconds before aligning at the top of
his head. Their shiny surfaces hummed as they worked, scanning every secret crevice of
his body.

The soldier with the digiscreen had nimble fingers. He recorded the data the first

provided, never once having to look at the keys.

“Why are you giving me clearance and what are we doing?”
O’Connor smiled again and Hagan reached up to swat at one of the Eyes. Damn

thing almost blinded him.

The first solider snapped his fingers, his task completed. The Eyes zoomed back to

him, nudging his pocket open without his aid. They settled in while the man fought to
keep a grin off his face. A crisp snap of the second soldier’s arms signaled his own
mission complete. Both of them kept stoic looks on their faces, though their eyes sparkled
with pride.

“Thirty-five seconds. Impressive, both of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They exchanged salutes and the pair stepped to one side, vanishing into the walls.

Hagan could have groaned, having been fooled by the holograms.

“They’re good, aren’t they, 01H?”
“What are we doing here, O’Connor? It’s not like you to waste time.”
The pleased smile fell off his face and he gave a sharp nod. “Your mother did as we

asked, more or less. She informed the officers she couldn’t bring them one of the Lige.
Instead, she brought something else. She brought us a living, breathing Homunculus.”

Homunculi. Hagan closed his eyes against the horror he felt. The Catalysts hadn’t

stopped at merging the DNA of various animals along with that of humans.

The Lige were mostly animal, despite their human appearances. As far as he

understood, they were a combination of lions and tigers, two of the most powerful
creatures left alive, though endangered, with the destruction of Earth. They’d only been
given human bodies as an afterthought, a way for them to hide from the WMF.

But Homunculi were the exact opposite. They were mostly human. Unstable and

powerful, thanks to Liger DNA.

O’Connor continued. “He was a special case, according to your mother. They were

going to destroy him but she’d decided to keep him instead. She said he was important.”

“When did she say this?” He couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. “Why haven’t

any of us heard of him until now?”

“The last time your mother was seen, she brought back the sleeping forms of nine

weapons. Six males and three women. It happened before schedule. The WMF was
planning to come and extract everyone she’d asked us to take the very next evening. No
one knows why the rush. When we attempted to question her, to help her, she fled,
injuring several well trained guards in the process.”

He stopped, leaning against the wall in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “Half

the base was working to contain her packages. No one thought she would try to leave
again, she was an ally.”

Hagan’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. He’d heard snippets of the story about the

night his mother went missing, but not like this. He’d awakened a few days later,
disorientated but having no memory of the incidents leading up to being on the Nautilus.

O’Connor’s voice was low, his tone laden with the burden of leadership. In that

instant Hagan liked him a little more, maybe even saw a bit of what his mom saw in the
officer. She’d trusted and respected him. That much was obvious.

He waited patiently for him to continue, counting each of his excited breaths until

they slowed back to a normal pace. It seemed O’Connor did the same thing, for when he
continued, his voice was clear and even again. “Less than ten minutes passed before a
young man appeared in the base. Somehow, he had infiltrated without being detected. He
broke into the command station and addressed me by name.”

Memory wavered in Hagan’s mind, shimmering but without form. He vaguely

remembered a man … his hair. “He has blue hair, doesn’t he?”

O’Connor looked up sharply. “Is your memory coming back, then?”
He tried again to focus but nothing came out. He sighed, giving a shake of his head.

There was nothing there and no matter how many times he was hypnotized or drugged,
there was no budging.

The only thing he could remember had been already reported and documented. It

was little more than a broken image, impossible and annoying in its refusal to bring about
any helpful information.

“Damn shame.” O’Connor turned away, gesturing back toward the door. “At any

rate, the Ouroboros has been held in this isolated room since he arrived at the station. He
is carefully monitored. From this point on, you will be able to visit at will, but don’t
expect much. He hasn’t opened his eyes in all of this time.”

Shrugging, Hagan stepped through the door. A cold wash of light scanned him as he

moved past the threshold. He knew without having to ask that if he hadn’t been an
authorized person, the light would have prevented him from continuing.

Two things hit him immediately. First off, O’Connor did not join him in the

doorway. Instead, he stood off to the side almost in … reverence. Before he could process
the curious bit of information, his gaze landed on the man within the room. For the
second time in so many hours, his breath caught in his lungs and held.

The room itself was little more than a luxurious cage. Though military furnishings

were usually bereft of any luxuries at all, it was obvious someone had gone through a
great deal of trouble to ensure it was a comfortable cage, at least.

The air was a nice temperature and lightly perfumed with the incense sitting on

nickel side tables on either side of the bed. The metal was picked up in the small, circular
table across the room, as well as the set of dining chairs that graced it. Fresh fruit and a
pitcher of sparkling water balanced on the inviting surface. Across the room, a navy blue
sofa promised a warm, safe nap.

Dark blue satin sheets crumpled and hedged, covering a simple nickel bedframe and

mattress. There were half a dozen fluffy pillows propped up against a padded headboard
and draped against them was a beautiful, black and blue young man.

Hagan took all of this in within the span of two heartbeats, which was lucky because

he wasn’t all that sure the organ kept working when he realized what was on the bed.

“Great Sun.” He breathed the prayer unintentionally, taking a step into the room. The

man was nothing like Hagan expected. He had delicate features. Pale skin smoothed over

graceful muscle.

Curiously, he found himself slightly disappointed there was a sheet draped over an

elusive lower body. Hagan ignored the feeling to focus on what he saw. His eyes were
closed and dark lashes fanned an exquisite face of soft, curving lines and generous lips.
“Blue. His hair is midnight blue.”

From outside the room, O’Connor cleared his throat. “We’ve done extensive testing

on him. Even though we are well aware of his status there is little to nothing on the
molecular level, which distinguishes him from a human.” He paused. “Beyond his
coloring, he could pass as one of us easily.”

Hagan shook his head, honestly amazed. For Homunculi to truly appear human was

incredible. To be able to pass genetic testing was nothing short of miraculous. And this
one was beautiful.

The temperature in the room spiked as he moved forward. Hair the color of twilight

sky, kissed by moonlight, fanned out across one pillow. On second look, he decided there
was something harder to his appearance. Something like iron wrapped in velvet. There
was danger in his straight nose and worn hands. Promise.

Hagan was at his side, marveling at the sheer perfection of his body when he noticed

the heavy manacles strapped to his wrists and ankles. Bloodied, raw flesh peeked out
from under them, an obscene marking of ideal skin. The fog of appreciation he seemed
lost in slowly lifted like a shimmering curtain and he saw the damage that had been done
to this sweet, sleeping angel.

Bruises marred the creamy color of his skin; dark splotchy blots of purple and black.

A few of them were healing nicely but he frowned at the implication of those blemishes.
Fists and shoes were used to hurt him, but what’s more, Hagan saw the unmistakable
ruination of teeth marks. None of the wounds had been inflicted with the mind to be
permanent, but for some reason he was healing at a sluggish rate. None of which changed
the fact that this man had been mauled. Brutally.

“What happened to him?” Hagan was shocked at how harsh and angry his voice

sounded. He’d seen plenty of these sorts of injuries while living with the Lige. Some
young cub would pick a fight he couldn’t win and pay the price for it. But somehow, this
felt personal. It felt … wrong.

He moved to the other side of the bed, never once taking his eyes off the bit of

sleeping perfection. There were gashes and ribbons of torn flesh all over him.

Hagan couldn’t explain this … tentative attraction, and honestly, he didn’t really

want to look too closely at it. He told himself he only wanted to help, to do as Nadira
asked of him.

He’d almost forgotten he’d asked a question. When O’Connor answered, he almost

jumped out of his skin. “We don’t know. He carried the injuries when he appeared. They
simply haven’t healed.”

“Bring me a med kit.”
The captain gestured lightly, and one of the holograms appeared next to the bed with

a kit in hand. He dropped it without a word and vanished, leaving Hagan to care for the
man.

Hagan shuddered, running his fingertips lightly over a particularly ugly gash. It was

still bleeding sluggishly and would need stitches. “I should check the damage to the rest
of his body.” Did I just say that?

The sheet bunched in all of the best places, giving him an outline of strong legs and

impressive proportions. He leaned in slightly, his hand trembling as he prepared to move
it. When he realized his breathing was hitched and his heartbeat was slamming in his
chest, he jerked back. What is wrong with me?

His every thought seemed to be centered on seeing this guy naked, but he couldn’t be

interested in that. For one, the man was injured. Secondly… he was a man. Hagan steeled
his nerves, burying his self-disgust, and pulled the cover down.

His patient may have been asleep but if Hagan had to make a wager, he’d guess the

dreams he was having were pleasant ones. His legs were nicked and scraped in various
places, but what drew his eyes was the bulge stretched out along his stomach, pointing to
his face.

Hagan sucked in a breath, unwittingly comparing his length to what stirred in his

pants. The unconscious man was definitely thicker than anything he’d ever seen, not that
he had a great deal of erections saved in his mind.

As he sank into the mattress, his shoulders slumping in awe, his tool twitched as if

feeling his gaze and Hagan shivered uncontrollably. This was a man, for sure, someone
powerful and filled with wicked needs. Just for a moment, he let himself fantasize about
what it would be like if those needs were met by his hands and body.

Floored, he jerked the cover back over the warm body, scrambling off the bed and

away from the spell it was weaving. There were other wounds that could have used
bandages and maybe a little antiseptic but Hagan couldn’t bring himself to touch him
again. Not when he felt the shame of having his own body respond.

Confused and more than a little revolted with his train of thought, he stepped out of

the room. The air was instantly cooler and he was able to breathe again without the
aching arousal he’d felt before.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but I get the feeling he will be opening his

eyes very soon. You might want to take those shackles off. He’s bound to be cranky if he
wakes up that way.”

Hagan didn’t wait for a response, bolting toward the transport. A groan of thanks

ejected from his lips when he realized the commander hadn’t followed immediately.

The screen in his room was simulating a rising sun by time he punched in his

breakfast request. The priestess had already issued a second summons, demanding his
presence immediately. Hagan lay down, pressing his face against his too-cool pillow and
ignored it.

He fell asleep before the artificial coffee finished brewing.

Chapter Three

Needless to say, Hagan was cranky the next day. He rolled back out of bed a few

precious hours later, rubbing grit from his eyes and cursing women who couldn’t make
up their minds. The priestess had the habit of wanting her cake and eating it too, but he
wasn’t ready to face her just yet. It was time to hit the gym.

He couldn’t get the Ouroboros out of his head. What little sleep he did manage to

steal had been plagued with visions of him. The feel of silky skin sliding against his,
husky breathing painting a warm body, and the weight of heavy hands pressing him
against a soft surface echoed in his mind. Sensation chanted his name constantly,
relentlessly, loudly.

Hagan grunted, pulling hard on the weights that defied gravity above his head. The

burn in his muscles screamed. He was pushing too hard, he should take a break, but he
powered through the grueling workout in an attempt to purge the Ouroboros from his
mind.

“Hagan? Hagan? Are you even listening?”
“Oh, what? Sorry, Hope, I spaced out for a second there. What were you saying?”
“Do you have a minute? I wanted to go over some of your labs.”
Hope tilted her head to the side and gave Hagan an impish look, pushing any

thoughts of him to the back of his mind. He didn’t have any outstanding lab reports. “Oh,
right. Has Dr. Selby decided what she wants next?”

“You know; the same old, same old. Blood, sweat and tears.” She leaned onto the

bench where his legs were spread apart. “Looks to him like you have the second one
down, but I think we can do much, much better.”

A slow smile spread across Hagan’s face. This is why he liked Hope. She was

uncomplicated and only made the right demands. No games, no expectations, just good
fun without the whispers and speculation. She wasn’t the brightest, but she was gorgeous,
and could stand a little roughhousing. And the first time she’d hit on him, she hadn’t
known what he was—or wasn’t. “Is that so?”

Without another word, she stood up and sauntered over to the Wet Rooms, a section

off the side of each gym offering steam and sauna options.

His abused muscles didn’t make one pinch of protest when he got up to follow her.
“Do you want to mess around?” Her playful voice muttered the same phrase she’d

used originally, the moment he was within reach.

He started to reply, but she pulled him into a black glass steam shower and dragged

him to the back of the stall. She was reaching for his zipper before her feet stopped
moving.

Hagan laughed, winding his fingers around her wrists easily, preventing her from

continuing. “Hope, you’ll get another demerit if you’re caught fraternizing.”

“I know for a fact that this room won’t be used again for another forty-five minutes.

The way I see it, we have plenty of time to play a little bit.”

Her mouth connected with his neck, and he swore playfully. Her satin skin slid over

his Adam’s apple, teasing his sense of contrast. She hadn’t turned the steam on, but in the
warm environment, her usually chilled body felt even more so.

“I’ve been waiting to do this all morning.” Her voice dropped an octave as she

leaned up and pressed her breasts to his chest. Rubbing herself up and down, she teased
her nipples into taut peaks underneath cool, white cotton. “Please, Hagan, we’ll make it
quick, I swear.”

He was a sucker for begging. After another strained minute of her soft pleading, he

stopped struggling, slipping into the dynamic she usually liked. A dynamic where he was
the controlling factor.

He yanked her wavy chestnut hair out of the ponytail she had high on her head, and

growled when the curtain fell. Flipping her around so he was on top, he pressed her
against a slick wall where knobs and switches sat watching. The moan of pleasure she
poured over her shoulder flooded his mind and shot an arrow straight to his cock,
pumping it full of hot blood.

Squirming against his chest, she continued to rock her nipples against him, silently

urging him to give them some attention. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, tasting
the wildflower soap that was her favorite. Footsteps sounded outside the stall and she
started for a moment, only to be dragged back down by his voice. “Don’t worry about it,
just focus on me.”

He reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head.

The cotton little bra she wore was barely an A-cup but he marveled at how perfect she
was. All white skin and freckles, her skin goosebumped when he ran his tongue down the
side of her neck and over her collarbone. She tasted like soap no matter where he put his
mouth and he nipped her with his teeth, drawing little hisses of praise from her worried
lips.

The uniform skirt she wore wasn’t as short as he would have liked, but he ran a hand

along her thigh, taking his time before he found out whether the panties she wore
matched her cute little strawberry patterned bra. She mewled sweetly in her throat as he
continued to move his mouth over her sensitive skin, ignoring the way his own heartbeat
slammed against his rib cage.

She wanted it fast and dirty, but he was the one in control and he wanted to make her

beg for it. Hagan wanted her to explode the moment he sank his fingers into her tight
little body. With her back arched invitingly she tried to draw him to her aching nipples.
Avoiding them, he dropped sweet kisses over her stomach and sides, chuckling at her
mounting frustration.

“Hagan, if you’re going to tease me, I’ll just have to tease you back.”
Little minx that she was, Hope knew how to make him wild. She pushed away from

his hold and sashayed to a bench, casting him backward little glances. When he moved to
follow her she shook her head. “No no, you were mean to me, now you’re just going to
have to wait.”

Hopping up, she pulled her panties down over her boots, tossing them his way. He

caught them and pressed the wet scrap of material to his face, groaning as her scent went
straight to his balls. They throbbed with such force it made his dick pump in unison and
he was forced to unzip his pants to accommodate the expansion.

As usual, Hope sucked in a pleased breath as he began slowly stroking his shaft,

trying to relieve some of the pressure she had caused. Her huge blue eyes ate up her face,
and she spread her knees showing him flashes of dripping pink skin. “Are you going to
fuck me, Hay? Or are you going to make me get off all on my own?”

A bolt of cold ran through him, but he viciously ignored it. She knew as well as he

did that he wasn’t going to fuck her. She knew it the same way she knew he wasn’t going
to let her kiss him either.

He stalked toward her, cock in hand, even as she ran manicured fingertips over her

exposed flesh. Her body twitched excitedly when she brushed the pads of her middle
finger over her clit, a breathless little noise filling the small space.

“Anyone could come in here, Hope.” He kept his voice low, pushing her skirt back

further so he could watch the show. “Anyone could open that door right now and see
what a filthy little slut you are.”

She whimpered with pleasure and he let loose a chuckle, removing her hand from her

own body and wrapping it around the base of his cock. Her skin was still cold, but soft
this time and wet from her juices. “Nice and slow, baby. I want you to stroke me until I
come all over your pretty little panties.”

She took the underwear from his free hand and set them on the bench between them,

just like he had taught her to. Then, careful to keep her legs open, she used both hands on
his prick. He groaned, throwing his head back and pumping his hips into her palms,
letting her know she was doing a good job. It had taken her weeks to learn just what he
liked but she was a master when she wanted to be.

Hagan grinned, smoothing a hand over her sensitive breasts and plucking her

nipples. He watched a pretty blush bloom over her face as she continued to move both
hands, twisting a little when she got to the top. His balls tightened and he felt an orgasm
rising up. Carefully, he leaned down, pressing his own palm into her quivering little
mound. Her pussy was so wet she was creating a nice little puddle on the warm surface of
the bench and he could smell that wildflower scent exclusive to her.

“Hagan. Please, I’m so close.”
He let his hand linger for a moment, just getting the feel of her body before he pulled

it away. “What’s the rule, Hope?”

One of her hands left his cock and began stroking his heavy balls. Her touch was

gentle but it scalded him with pleasure all the same. “The rule is … the rule is I can’t
come until you say I can.”

He nodded in approval, leaning down again. Her breathing was coming so quickly he

thought she would faint. He savored the burn of her body and ran his tongue along her
neckline once more, just to listen to her whimper. Her eyes slammed closed and she ran
her tongue over her lips in an effort to control her mounting pleasure.

He replaced his hand, sliding his fingertips along the path she had just created. He

felt her throbbing against him and smiled at her eagerness as he began to stroke her clit
lightly. She quivered, rocking her hips to deepen his touch, even as she increased the
speed of her hands. When he increased his own tempo, her breathing skyrocketed into
gasping little pants and she rolled her head back, exposing a long length of creamy throat
to his eyes. “Hagan, please. It’s so close. I’m going to…”

He rubbed his thumb over her clit, swirling circles over the most sensitive part of her

body. “Go ahead, baby. Go ahead and come for me.” As soon as he said it, she shattered,
her body strung tight like a bow. The sight pushed him over the edge and the heat from
his too-tight balls escaped, hitting her bare stomach and leaving him hollowed out.

They stood there, trying to catch their breaths for several long minutes. Hagan’s

limbs grew heavy from pleasure and he tossed Hope a lazy smile, kissing her cheek.

“We’d better get cleaned up.”

She nodded dumbly, taking her panties and using them to wipe the cooling evidence

of his passion from her skin. Redressing, she started to pull them back on and he caught
her wrist and plucked them from her hands. “I think I’ll keep these.”

Some of the afterglow died from her eyes. “But, Hay, I’m wearing a skirt.”
He took a step back and looked her over. With her shirt back on and her hair back in

its ponytail she looked like she always did: librarian-ish. Her black leather boots stopped
at mid-calf and her skirt was only a few inches higher. No one would guess she’d just
given him a glorious hand job. “You’ll be fine, just keep your legs closed.”

He thought she’d refuse. A couple months ago she might have, but since they’d

started messing around she’d become more and more willing to show her kinkier side to
him. As he watched, her facial expression blanked, leaving a vacant look of subthought.
Finally, she tossed him a sexy smile and nodded. “All right, then, but if something
happens I’m blaming it on you.”

“Then I’ll just have to think of something to make it up to you.”
“You’d better.”
He grinned at her, watching as she freed the locks to the stall. After a quick

inspection, she left without looking back. He lingered in the room, inhaling deeply until
lust filled his lungs. When he quickly grew hard again, he laughed, assured that whatever
had happened between the Ouroboros and him had been an anomaly. This is what he
liked.

Feeling assured, he didn’t even groan when his direct link bleeped angrily. The

priestess was tired of being ignored and had begun promising retaliation for his lack of
response:

Get to Limbo. Now. Don’t force me to let the Bulwark know you’ve neglected my

summons. Goldemane

Still wrapped in his post-sex glow, he hit the reply key, ignoring the tremor of

excitement stomping a path through him.

Chapter Four

The priestess wasn’t the one who stood waiting at the gate this time. Instead, Raimi

greeted Hagan with a dark scowl and an Ecocraft. The small space shuttles were used to
transport up to five people to and from the colonies and the ships. They couldn’t venture
far from whichever ship they were connected to, but the Lige had been given one with
special capabilities. It gave them ability to reach the large satellite base they were
allowed to inhabit, away from the humans they were learning to trust.

Hagan waved at him. “Hi, buddy. How is it going?”
The look he threw at him could have melted glass, but Hagan continued to smile,

even with the abrupt order. “Get in the craft, bastard.”

With a shrug, he got into the carrier. It was little more than a circular seating room,

designed to be comfortable while minimizing the effects of riding in space. Simple black
cushions and blacked out windows were illuminated by globes of soft light. He moved to
one side, careful to maintain as much space as possible when Raimi slid in behind him.
The Liger tapped the barrier to raise the divider between them and the holographic driver
after giving the command to take off.

“Making it nice and cozy, then?” He shouldn’t have laughed when the other man

twitched, all impotent rage.

“Perhaps I simply don’t want any witnesses for what I’m about to do to you. The

M’fal seems to dislike it when I give you what you deserve.”

Hagan leaned closer to him, ignoring the danger gleaming in his eyes. “Do I deserve

a kiss, then?”

Raimi stared at him, so stunned that just for a moment, Hagan thought he might have

forgotten how much he hated his guts. The corners of Raimi’s mouth twitched with what
he could only hope was impending laughter. It smoothed out quickly but a flash of humor
warmed his stiff limbs.

Hagan continued. “You always were such a good kisser.”
A fist connected with the side of his head and he fell against the door. Before his

body finished bouncing, he was flipped over and against the cold glass. The bones of one
cheek ground mercilessly against the unyielding surface, and Raimi pressed his body
against his.

“I told you never to speak of it again.” The low hiss of his voice dragged over his

earlobe. “It. Never. Happened.”

Once again, he was stuck in a position where he knew well and good that he should

keep his mouth shut. He filtered this information before a pained laugh fell from his lips.
“If it never happened, why are you so angry?”

Raimi forced him harder against the screen, his bulkier frame all but cracking bone.

An involuntary breath left Hagan’s lungs, casting a fan of vapor to spread out before his
face.

“Everything you do pisses me off. You shouldn’t be here. The very way you move

gets under my skin.”

“So, stop watching me move?”
Another angry growl filled the small space of the car and he literally saw stars when

Raimi fisted his hand in his hair and slammed him into the window repeatedly. Those
bright, dancing spots begged him to stop, even as the wicked voice in his head urged him
to keep going.

Raimi was so close to Hagan now that he could feel his heart thundering against his

back. He could also feel the bulge of his pants, pressing against the base of his spine
while he held him still.

“You used to wear your boners with pride, Rai. There’s no shame in wanting me.”
With a harsh sound, the Liger pulled his face back and slammed it against the

window. The thick, sturdy glass held under the force.

The stars in his vision swallowed up his consciousness and he plummeted into a

memory he hadn’t examined in years.

* * * *

He’d always loved the night. When the Form went still and all you could hear was

the animals as they hunted, bred and lived.

Even though the days were grueling and long, he rarely slept once the signal for

sleep rang. Everyone who lived on one of the platforms knew they were created with the
same design. Some were bigger and some were more heavily populated, but each of them
was a circular disk with a dome barrier stretched high above them.

In the outer rings of each Form there were military stations, designed to be the first

resistance should the barriers fail. The next rings were comprised of the engineering
plants, which kept the barriers stable. They themselves were powered by the same molten
energy keeping the colonies afloat.

The next ring was planted where there was just enough soil and water for farming

and vegetation to grow. After that, settlements used most of the space. These rings were
divided into sections around a center ring, forming pie-shaped sectors. In an emergency,
these sectors could be vented. Villages comprised of makeshift schools, hospitals and
homes had room to grow and expand on every platform. When one became over
populated, communities were relocated to bigger and emptier surfaces.

At the center of each of these civilizations was a hub of protected vegetation.

Painstakingly rescued and harvested from the barren Earth, they were all that was
keeping the human race from becoming extinct. A rainforest of tropical trees and
creatures provided air for the colonies.

Surrounding the rainforest, without impeding its ability to grow, was the compound.
That’s where Hagan lived, along with the Catalysts and their projects. They were

supposed to be using the information they gathered from the rainforest to help the
military repair the damage done to the planet. Instead, they were doing their experiments.

But at night, it didn’t matter.
While the scientists and the Lige slept, he wandered the circle separating them from

the preserved rainforest. It was protected by the same barriers that kept the Forms safe,
but this one ran on a different generator. Still, if he ventured close enough to the sample
labs he could almost taste the beautiful wilderness.

He did so, taking his time in the one span where he knew he could move unharassed.

The Lige was resting, preparing for another day of training so he wouldn’t be pushed or
spat at for a few hours of blissful peace. He closed his eyes, listening to the echo of
nature from the compound.

The symphony of night was shattered by the screams.
Heart-wrenching shrills signaled a greater threat, a warning that was lost until the

first blast swept through the air. The force knocked him onto the ground, shredding his
palms on impact. Pain radiated over his prone body as a concussion wave swept over
him, thudding against his eardrums.

For a few precious minutes, the ringing in his ears amplified his confusion. Red and

white emergency lights flashed in his face but he was too stunned to move. Waves of
nausea crashed into his head, forcing him to gulp desperate mouthfuls of air.

Someone called his name and he heard it as if from a distance. His ears and mind felt

as if they were wrapped in cotton, and the resulting tone was warped and wrong. It took
three tries for his mother to penetrate the fog. “You have to get up. Now, Hagan, you
have to get up.”

It was the first time he’d ever heard his mom’s voice like that. Fear dripped from

every syllable she uttered and her large dark eyes were filled with worry. He rolled over
as quickly as he could but could tell by her tight expression it wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s happening?” The question was barely free from his lips before the ground

began to shudder with impact. His mother jerked him upright when his first instinct was
to sink to the ground and hide.

“We need to get to the command center. There’s been a Nihil attack. Somehow one

managed to make it through the military barrier. Lige have already been deployed, but
their Aurora is injured. We have to get to them before she dies or the military shows.”

Nothing else she could have said would have gotten him moving faster. The military

was a hated enemy, according to the Catalysts. They couldn’t be trusted at all, and if they
discovered what they were doing—never mind it was all in an attempt to protect
themselves—they would all be executed.

He scrambled up, running beside her even as another blast rocked the foundation

under his feet. The air grew thick with unsettled dust and gravel, making it hard to
breathe and move. If not for the woman beside him, he would have lost his way dozens of
times as they raced out of the safety of the compound.

The closest village was less than a stone’s throw away, little more than a grouping of

huts lounging in the shadow of the impressive mass of brick and mortar. When his
mother scanned her keycard, freeing the doors that led outside, he realized how much
protection the building had truly provided.

The airlock had been released.
By time they stepped into Sector 7, the screaming had died down into a stunned kind

of whimpering each of the remaining settlers felt simultaneously. What little air had
already been repumped into the section was thin and tainted with the sorrow of lost life.
An unsettlingly cold breeze flowed along a predetermined current, carefully replenishing
what had been lost.

“So few.” The pained whisper from his mother’s throat caused a dull ache to well up

in his chest. “There were almost twelve hundred people in this sector. Now we will be
lucky if there are more than three hundred left.”

She shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around her. She always appeared so strong

to everyone else. The Lige thought she was as powerful as one of them, as indestructible.
So much so, she’d been adopted into one of their families. A bondsister, they called her.

But to him, she was only this: a fragile woman who wanted only the best for the

people around her. Tears sprang from her doe-like brown eyes. He wrapped his other arm
around her shaking form, offering what comfort he could to a woman who knew a great
deal of what she’d worked her whole life to build was now lost to the ground below them.

“Yesha. Are you there, Yesha?”
A quick jerk of her head freed his mother of her sorrow. She shifted easily when her

simple communicator watch blinked questioningly. She tapped her fingers to the lit
surface and responded. “Quintisha, you are alive. Are the others all right?”

There was a strained pause before the voice continued. “Asha is dead. Only me and

Dakarai managed to get out of there before the Light died. Panya was wounded and I
can’t heal her without Asha.”

Another tremor ran through his mother and she closed her eyes to hide the hurt in her

expression. When she would have continued, only a sad little whimper left her throat.
Hagan answered for her. “What is your status, Quintisha?”

The hesitation on the line was filled with unspoken disgust. If most of the Lige

treated him with indifference, Quintisha hated him with an unnecessary passion. “We’ve
made it to the compound. We’re in the second wing.”

“Stay put, we’ll come to you.”
He didn’t give the Liger a chance to respond, knowing he wouldn’t want him

anywhere near his wounded. Instead, he switched her communicator off before facing her
again.

Her eyes hadn’t left the devastation of the 7th Sector village. There was none of the

homey touches or lively banners that had existed only a few hours ago. Now there was
only debris swinging in the darkened sky. Only shadows of loss.

“They’re waiting for us.” He herded her backward, using her tag to get them back

into the compound. The moment her eyes were torn away from the bleakness on the
outside, she turned in a circle and began marching toward the second wing of the
compound. The slap of her feet against the cold concrete pounded in his head like the
beat of a war drum.

Emergency lights were still the only things working and the clay walls looked a little

worse for wear. In several places he could see the metal reinforcements were exposed and
bent, showing evidence of a fair beating.

She exploded when they rounded the corner leading to their destination. “Asha!”
Quintisha was a huge man with caramel skin and black eyes. He towered over every

person in the hallway, but he still appeared small when Hagan’s mother skidded to a halt
in front of him. He and another Liger Hagan recognized as Dakarai were protecting the
prone bodies of two females who were obviously in their group.

“What happened? I told you to wait until I got back. Asha wasn’t ready. There was

no way she was going to hold up!”

“The Nihil broke through sooner than we expected, there was no helping it. Asha

demanded—”

The slap rang out like a shot and the Liger never made a move to dodge. “You were

her Ouroboros, it was your job to keep her safe and protected. She trusted you to help her
make the right calls and so did I!”

The big man hung his head. It was the only time Hagan had ever seen a Liger cry. He

hadn’t thought they were capable of the response. Huge, painful tears streaked down his
cheeks and he nodded, his eyes glued to the still body between him and Dakarai. “It is

true. I have failed my Aurora, my other half. But I can honor her wishes here and now.
Please help me, Yesha. Help me heal Panya.”

The young woman lying next to Asha was in dire straits. Her body was bruised and

nicked on every surface he could see. An ugly gash bled sluggishly at her temple, a bad
sign.

When his mother spoke again, her voice was heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, Quint. It

doesn’t work that way. With Ouroboroi and Aurorae, one has the power to heal and one
has powers to destroy. An Auror or Aurora takes emotion from the Lige and redirects it
into Light, through the Ouroboros. You were only able to use her gifts because of your
profound link. Without her, you have no access to restorative powers. It takes both of
you.”

A great cry went up through the compound, shattering what glass remained.
All the while, Hagan stood there, helpless to aid or change any of what happened. He

watched his mother break down when Panya managed to hand her a stone tablet. The
tablet held an ancient prophecy, but he’d never known what it was. No one would tell
him.

All because of the fact that ultimately, he was only human.

* * * *

He tried to shake himself clear of the memories and sticky sadness that came with

them. No matter how much time passed, he was never able to forget how hard Quintisha
had cried, or how broken Panya’s body had been. Without Asha, the source of most of
their powers, they hadn’t been able to fight as they should have. They’d been much like
the remaining Lige members now: impotent.

It was a feeling he was familiar with, an old acquaintance that always recognized

him. Even after years of telling himself, he didn’t need anything or anyone, the truth still
managed to rear its ugly head in the corners of his mind.

He glanced at Raimi, as he had hundreds of times before. He’d been a childhood

friend at one point, but now he was an enemy who had hit him so hard he saw stars.

As if suddenly aware of the damage he could do, Raimi pulled away with a growl.

“Don’t fucking look at me, human. I’ll snatch your eyeballs right out of your Sundamned
skull.”

Hagan probably shouldn’t have pressed his luck but old hurt forced him to respond

in his snarkiest tone. “If you weren’t looking at me in the first place you wouldn’t even
be able to tell I was looking at you.”

It was childish, but unfortunately the best he could offer with unconsciousness still

spinning at the edge of his vision. For once there was no retaliation, just blatant dismissal
as only a cat could muster. Eyeing the Liger’s averted profile, Hagan was painfully
reminded of how much he’d really liked him in the past.

When he was completely honest with himself, not even he knew why he hadn’t let

Raimi have him. Back when it may have been possible for the hulking man to keep him
as a pet, he had failed to submit to supremacy. He hadn’t wanted to fight the compulsion,
had wanted the Liger. He admired and enjoyed his strength, even now.

Raimi may have changed toward him after the failed domination, but he still found

himself trying to reach out.

But somehow he couldn’t avoid the voice that whispered, Not right.

The soft insistence continued throughout the entirety of the ride. Even when the car

slid to an easy stop, Raimi refused to look at him again.

Hagan waited for him to say something but when it didn’t happen he was the one

who spoke up. “Raimi?”

A thick swallow caused his head to dip but his eyes remained averted. “Get out.”
“What if I don’t want to? We could just sit here, maybe talk.”
He snarled but didn’t move more than it took to inhale deeply. “You want to talk.

What are you, a fucking woman as well as a human? Get the hell out of the transport
before I throw you out, Hagan.”

The name sounded like a prayer on his lips. Hagan was reminded of how he touched

him in much of the same way. “If you keep knocking me out, eventually I’ll get some
kind of brain damage.”

This time he sighed, the hostility draining from his body. “Just go before I hurt you.”
He said it but Hagan didn’t believe he would … and some secret part of him was

disappointed.

Ten minutes later, he was struggling to focus long enough to report what the captain

had revealed to him. Persinna watched with a curious look on her face, asking few
questions and saying little besides what was necessary.

“What do you plan to do now?” She rested a long finger against her chin, an

annoyingly speculative expression still in her eyes.

“There’s nothing I can do. He’s asleep.”
They were standing in the loading station for the satellite. It was little more than a

warehouse for docking, all grid-shaped boxes and blinking orange lights. The Ecocraft
was primed and ready, waiting for him to pass the doors and reboard. He could return on
his own, and having done as required, he was ready to do just that.

“Nadira said he was important. You owe it to all of us to get the answers she seeks.”
The old frustration bubbled up in Hagan, along with a new and spiked emotion. For

all of their faults and the way they treated him, he had never blamed the Lige for being
what they were. So, this new feeling took a few minutes to identify. Resentment.

“Actually, I don’t owe any of you a damn thing. You’ve done more than enough

reminding me I don’t belong, so why would you expect me to want to help you now?”

He saw the priestess’s surprised face as he rushed past her. He was all the way down

the ramp and almost in the door before her quick, no nonsense voice cut through his mess
of a thought process.

“Hagan, wait.” Forced to pause, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He

didn’t have to turn around. She was standing beside him before he could take another
step, her honey-colored eyes flashing with interest.

“So, what did you think of the little Ouroboros?”
He tried to shrug, keeping his eyes turned away from her. He knew what she wanted

and wasn’t in the mood to play her games. Not when she was so close to being right this
time. “Being such a gift, he should be able to heal himself effectively.” She paused,
drawing out the assessment. “Even if he were unconscious, it’s not too far removed to
think his body would take care of him, so there’s no real reason for you to be taking care
of his wounds.”

Hagan cringed, cursing himself for mentioning the seemingly harmless little detail.

“Yes, well, I know what it’s like to wake up surrounded by nothing by military figures. I

thought it would be nice to visit him.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes sense. But why tend to him during your visits?”
He didn’t like the purr in her voice. When he moved to take another step forward she

reached out, wrapping iron fingers around his upper arm. “You know, Hagan, you
weren’t the only human who lived in the compound with us. There were almost half a
dozen, and while they didn’t have our gifts, they did have one thing in common.”

Shrugging uncomfortably, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes,

M’fal, you have told me.” He uttered her title like a curse this time and she knew it.

“But here you are, telling me you don’t feel the thrall.”
“You mean do I, like so many other young virile men, need sex? Yes, of course I

do.”

The way she laughed grated on his nerves. “You know it’s more than that. The thrall

is a ritualistic need. It goes deeper than blood, and if there’s one thing you have plenty of,
it’s good genes.”

“Please get to the point, Aunt Persinna,” He kept his voice low, turning to face her

for the first time since leaving the Ecocraft with Raimi. “I’m not a Liger. I’m a human;
therefore I have human responsibilities and a check-in to be at in just a little while.”

Persinna nodded and took a step closer to him, her blonde hair tickling his nostrils.

She inhaled deeply, pressing her nose against his shoulder. “My point, dear Hagan, is
simple. I can smell your desire.”

Jerking away from her wasn’t a smart move. First of all, she was a high-ranking

Liger who could have snapped him in two if she wanted. Secondly, he knew she was still
well guarded, even if he couldn’t see them. Her back connected with the door he’d been
holding open and a soft hiss escaped her lips before she could hold it back. Shocked, he
stuttered through an apology, waiting for the inevitable counterattack.

When the blow never came he let himself relax just enough to open his eyes. The

priestess stood before him, hand raised to stop the holographic guard from taking his
head off. It seemed to be a habit he desperately wanted to break. It was never wise to
taunt beasts in their own home.

“You feel shame where you shouldn’t, Hagan. You wanting this creature only proves

what I have said all along. You have a spirit, just waiting to connect with you. If you’d
only reach for it…”

He cut her off, again inviting trouble. “I don’t want to reach for it. M’fal, I am happy

with my life as it is. You said it yourself, I don’t belong here. I never did.”

She lowered her hand slowly and crossed it back over her impressive bosom. “If that

is so, why are you lusting, even now?”

He shook his head in denial but they both knew he was lying. Even with the fear and

confusion running through his body, he was struck with the taste of arousal. Even now,
thinking about the blue-haired man, his blood heated, leaving him aching and needy in
places he shouldn’t have been reacting at all. “I’m straight, Persinna. Straight.”

She smiled, seeing through his desperate refusal to the core of his struggle.

“Straight? Gay? Those are human stigmas attached to sexuality. When you think as a
Liger there is no sexual orientation, only sex. When you are in thrall you cannot take the
time to discriminate between one warm, willing hole and the other.”

“I am human.”
She laughed again and waved her hand to the guard who quickly approached him. He

thought they would punish him for taking a swing at the priestess, but instead they simply
opened the door again and gestured for him to leave. He began in the direction of the
Ecocraft.

The last thing he heard before they shoved him into the awaiting transport was the

priestess calling out to him, “You’re no more human than I.”

Chapter Five

Raimi and Persinna stayed on his mind until the moment he was standing in the

hallway leading to the Ouroboros’s room again. The ever-sweet smell of fresh water
slammed into him before he could even open the door. He realized his palms were
sweating when the hologram lifted an eyebrow at the wet handprint he left on the
digiscreen.

He’d been there the past two days, tending to injuries that never should have needed

assistance in order to be healed. Captain O’Connor had been surprised when he’d
reported some of the gashes and cuts had begun to look better after he’d started to take
care of him. Since then, Hagan had been assigned to tending the coma patient at least
once a day.

There was an audible click when the barrier was shut at his back, leaving only him,

the sleeping Homunculus, and his raging hard-on. He shook his head, trying to clear his
mind of the sudden excited buzzing filling it. The closer he moved to the bed, the louder
it became until it drowned out the incessant beat of his heart. The moment he touched his
skin to a white shoulder, the sound jerked to a stop, silence hitting him like a hammer.

Hagan forced himself to take inventory.
Most of the bruises and scratches were healed, leaving puffy pink skin to outline

their previous positions. The fever painting a flush on his ivory skin was lessening,
leaving him soaked in sweat but otherwise intact. He sighed with pleasure as he began to
bathe his patient, carefully running a damp cloth over what exposed skin was on display.

At some point Hagan must have stopped, his face inches from his, because when the

man opened sleepy eyes, their shimmering depths clashed into his.

“I’m sorry, I was just—”
“Where am I?”
The smooth, musical tone of his voice was soft and laced with venom. Still, Hagan

shivered with pleasure, unable to do more than flap his mouth open and closed. The
curious smell of clear, fresh water intensified as the man took in his surroundings,
bathing him with his scent. Chains he couldn’t get permission to remove clinked together
and bedding ruffled. “I’m a prisoner.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a clear and concise statement. “N-no, you’re being cared

for by the military. The Catalysts…” His entire body went stiff and Hagan couldn’t
finish. The sleeping beauty was an engineered human. He was used to the violence and
trauma that went with bearing said burden, but when mesmerizing eyes widened, Hagan
felt captivated and unable to go on. A second passed in pained silence.

He was close enough to see pupils expand as the stranger took him in. His irises were

a beautiful dark blue, like sapphires gleaming under white light. On instinct, Hagan
pulled back and away from him, stammering an apology he quickly cut off.

“Will you release me, then?”
He hesitated just long enough to watch those eyes harden into midnight onyx. He

knew the answer before Hagan was able to open his mouth to respond. “I can’t, just yet.”

“Of course you can’t.” With that, he dismissed him as if he were little more than a

fly on the wall. Shifting into a sitting position, he lifted his hands and feet, testing the

weight of his chains.

Hagan was held immobile and silent by the sight of his graceful movements. He

should have been choppy. His muscles should have been weak and shaky from disuse but
he held up the heavy manacles as if they were bracelets made of string.

When he flexed one arm, Hagan saw what he had assumed was lean muscle bunch

and pull with effort. The bed frame screamed as he bent the metal, and he gasped when
one powerful arm managed to snap almost free. As amazing as the view was, he didn’t
miss what the effort cost him. The soft, pink flesh that had been stretched over his
wounds ripped, and blood ran down his chest from his shoulder.

“No, don’t!” Without thought, he flung out his hands to stop him, touching bare skin.

A low hiss told him he wasn’t the only one who felt the instant electricity travel through
his body. Like sticking a fork in a socket, he was flung in every direction his body could
manage but unable to let go. Purple smoke filled the air and his vision, sliding through his
nostrils and invading his lungs like phantom snakes. He gasped aloud, the violent
pleasure of the act bringing his body to life against its will.

The Ouroboros went still and though his eyes were closed, Hay knew he was feeling

something close. The world narrowed until only they existed in it and for a split second it
was as if their souls united and flared.

Hagan knew his thoughts. Felt terrible sorrow originate in the part of his mind that

knew his secrets had been betrayed. He felt hatred born of being separated from his
birthplace. Flickers of beautiful landscapes and golden towers that glittered under the
light of double suns flashed behind his eyelids. Hagan couldn’t shake the feeling he knew
the places he saw, recognized the feel of this otherworldly sanctuary.

The Ouroboros raged against being forced to be seen in his present state of

weakness. Beneath all of the anger and shame, Hagan knew him. He knew the truth
behind the courageous, kind, strong man who was more than his birth circumstances. He
knew why the powers that be coveted him, for there had never been a Homunculus with
as much power as this one.

He panted against the deeply personal knowledge he was absorbing by accident,

knowing the other was also feeling it. For every tendril of fact he discovered about the
stranger, the man knew something intimate and dangerous about him.

Hagan’s body continued to jerk, though the intensity had lowered as if the attack was

winding down. Still, he shook against the bed, somehow vaguely aware of the fact that
the Ouroboros was now holding him, pressing him against his chest.

Tears flowed down Hagan’s cheeks and he wondered if the blue-haired hunk was

seeing his weakness. The deep sense of loss he kept hidden under his bravado and
sarcasm.

Finally, though it felt as though hours had passed, he was released from the forced

contact. He flung himself back and out of strong arms, hitting the ground hard. “W-what
the hell was that?”

The Ouroboros shook his head, and again Hagan was bombarded by the maddening

smell of clean, pure water. His skin felt stretched too tight over his skeleton. He ached in
places he wasn’t willing to examine and his fingertips tingled with the need to touch the
man again. He swore mentally. Whatever had just happened, whatever had passed
through them, Hagan didn’t want to experience it a second time. He would never again
touch him willingly.

He made to stand, but his legs were shaky and weak. Knocking knees gave out and

he toppled over. His face hit the ground, though his knees refused to slide out and he
connected to the ground with a sickening thud. Face down. Ass up.

His stomach might have rebelled but there was no way for him to throw up with the

lump in his throat, so he simply lay there, panting and dizzy. He couldn’t even work up
enough give-a-shit to worry about his compromising position.

“It’s going to take a minute for the effects to wear off.”
The Ouroboros sounded so smug and sure, Hagan suddenly wanted to punch him. If

he could have managed it, he would have lifted his head to respond in his usual fashion
but his body felt too heavy. Even after Raimi’s worst beatings he usually managed to
offer his opponent something to let him know he hadn’t been broken, but right now he
couldn’t have done more than roll over and piss himself, so he didn’t bother.

The creak of springs let him know the Ouroboros had managed to get out of bed. He

started to ask how he managed to break the chains, but honestly, at this point he couldn’t
care less. The man leaned over him and he could almost hear the stranger assessing him
in his mind.

He must have painted a nice picture, lying on the ground with his ass in the air.
The sapphire gaze scorched a path over his body, and he shivered, even though he

couldn’t actively see the person looking at him. He knew the moment the Ouroboros
leaned down and held a hand over him because wherever his shadow landed, he burned.

“You’re a … human, then?” It wasn’t what he said, as much as how he said it that

made Hagan sigh.

If he had said it as an accusation or with disgust, he wouldn’t have answered. The

sweet curiosity in his tone made the usually ignored question worth answering. “That’s
what they tell me.” Without another word, the Ouroboros lifted him up and tossed him
face down onto the bed. After a second of watching him attempt to breathe cloth, he
flipped him over. “What?”

“You certainly smell like a human. Are you not even part Liger?”
Having found his voice and calmed the frantic beating of his heart, Hagan was able,

at the very least, to infuse his tone with bite. “Nope. Don’t want to be one either; I’m too
good to walk around covered in fur.”

A blue eyebrow shot upwards but the Ouroboros didn’t respond in anger. Instead a

cocky smile lifted one side of his mouth. “Oh, is that right? I suppose you think needing
to layer on bundles of various cloths to keep one warm is a better alternative?”

Hagan blinked, stunned at the casual response. He continued to watch, clearly

expecting an answer. “Hell yeah, at least I can wash clothing. Have you smelled any Lige
lately? Maybe a dip in the local watering hole wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Ah, I see. So you think they smell bad, then? As if there are no poorly kept humans

walking around, begging for change.”

“Psh. You want to measure us by the most unfortunate link in our chain? We can as

well, because I’m sure you’ve met a member of the Lige after a good tryst. They’re
covered in every liquid that can come from a body—be it human or Liger.”

An elegant finger tapped against strong, smooth skin and drew his eye. He couldn’t

stop his gaze from framing the perfection of his face or the lush invitation of his lips. His
body stirred, even with the odd circumstances. He wondered what his fur would look
like, were he to complete the transformation.

“Don’t look away, human.” The Ouroboros had the audacity to laugh at him when he

averted his eyes. “I saw you. Perhaps you don’t mind the way the Lige fights as much as
you say you do.”

“N-no, I do. It’s just … maybe not all fur is as bad as all of that. I’ve never seen one

shift before.”

He leaned over Hagan’s prone body and smiled. Strong, white teeth flashed and he

couldn’t even begin to explain why he found them so arousing. “So, you’re willing to
admit you don’t mind the smell of a Liger. Perhaps you like us a bit more than you
think?”

He sputtered for a good second, completely disgusted with himself. Here he was,

lying all but helpless and unable to focus on a good insult. He didn’t know what was
happening to him but he knew enough to recognize he didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
“Not likely. What are you doing for hygiene, licking one another? How is that clean?”

The Ouroboros threw his head back and laughed. The sound shot an arrow through

his body and found its mark right at the tip of his dick. If he hadn’t been on his back
already, that’s where he would have landed when his knees gave out this time.

When his mirth subsided, the man nodded once as if confirming an answer to a

question he’d never heard. When his gaze settled back on Hagan, a lump formed in his
throat. At that moment, there was nowhere he’d rather be than pressed to that mattress.

“You won’t know until you try it, human.” The sapphire depths of his eyes lit up

with the power of his Liger.

Hagan shuddered, though he knew the movement wasn’t from fear. Something deep

inside him purred with pleasure when his captor stuck his tongue out and bent his head.
The moist, pink organ wasn’t normal. It was raspy and soft all at the same time, like
sandpaper covered in hot silk. It stretched several inches longer than it should have been
able to reach, and it dawned on him that Homunculi were more in touch with their cat-
partners. They could borrow and trade bits of themselves on a general level, but he’d
never heard of anything like this.

His rough tongue scraped over his shoulder, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t!”

Another one of those lilting laughs slammed into him as if he could literally get off

on making the man happy. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t touch me like that!” His voice came out rough and low, the voice he usually

reserved for sex and dominance. The voice he used to make Hope do whatever he
wanted. Somehow the authority had been stripped from the sound, leaving it deep, hard
and borderline desperate.

“Was that an order? I think you’ve got the wrong idea if you think you’re in charge

here.”

Hagan would have scrambled away from the ominous statement, but when the

Homunculus bent his head again and touched the two-toned pad of his tongue to his jaw
he all but whimpered. His body turned to jelly and every stroke brought back the memory
of the electricity he had first felt when they touched. “I’m here to help you.” He
whispered it, trying to keep his tone steady. “I was checking your wounds.”

“Mmm. You taste like fear and lust. Open your eyes and look. You’re calling my

Lightning all on your own.”

His eyes popped open of their own accord, unable to deny a direct order from the

object of his twisted desire. The voice always sitting at the back of his mind almost
giggled with glee and it was all he could do to keep from screaming at it.

Because that would have made him look like a lunatic.
He dragged his head up and looked at his body. Every place the man’s skin hovered

over his, little bolts of white light bridged the difference. It didn’t matter that he was
wearing clothes and the Ouroboros was, for the most part, naked. The “Lightning” as he
called it, jumped from one body and flooded his, leaving behind tingling skin.

Hagan whispered in awe. “That is truly an amazing thing for even a Liger to do. It is

unheard of for a human to call the cat so strongly.”

“My cat? Is that what you think you’re summoning?”
Without waiting for an answer, he pressed his body against Hagan again, using his

teeth to free the horizontal buttons holding his shirt closed. His pants suddenly felt much
too tight, and it took him a minute to realize what the man was doing.

The stranger dragged his hair over every inch of skin that he bared with his

movement, drowning a bewildered Hagan with his watery scent. He was marking him as
if he were planning to take him. To claim him.

His lust-laden body finally agreed to react the way he wanted it to and he jerked up

in surprise. He was thrown off balance and landed beside the spot where he was laying,
before he hit the ground. “What are you doing, are you insane?”

The Ouroboros turned to him slowly; his eyes still alight with his power. “Get back

to the bed, human.”

“Hagan! My name is Hagan, and like hell I will.” He shouted his answer, forgetting

there were a number of antsy holograms standing guard outside. When the Ouroboros
moved he could have cursed himself twice a fool.

Eyes called out, “Is everything okay, Subject 01H?”
He flinched and the Ouroboros saw it. “Subject? You are also a prisoner here?”
“No.” He shook his head as hard as he could. “I’m a human. There is no reason for

the military to hold me captive.”

Again, the Homunculus shrugged and rushed him as if nothing he had just said

mattered.

The Ouroboros should have been disgusted, he should have refused to stay in the

same room with him, let alone touch him. Instead, he slammed Hagan back against the
bed and pressed his mouth against his.

“Wai—”
The stranger took full advantage of his alarm, invading his mouth. His tongue swept

across Hagan’s and over his lips before he could gasp out a refusal. The sound of his shirt
rasping against his skin as he jerked it up only fueled the fire. Hot palms pressed against
his belly and giving him a direct injection of the lightning he was talking about before.

It swept into Hagan’s blood and traveled to his heart before he could take in another

breath. He shoved at his chest and the hands gripping him, his efforts as half-hearted as
they were in vain.

“Don’t fight me, Hagan. I want you and I plan to have you.” He continued to kiss

him as he spoke, pressing his lower body against the increased pressure of his erection.

Shock blasted into the back of his head and Hagan couldn’t have taken another

breath if he wanted to. He forgot to worry about O’Connor in the wake of his absolute
and utter disbelief. He didn’t care he was a human? Didn’t even seem to care he was

about to commit a grievous crime against the Lige. Instead, all he seemed to care about at
the moment was the fact that he wanted him.

Hagan didn’t know why tears sprang into his eyes or why it touched him so deeply

when the Ouroboros wiped them away. “You will stop crying, right this instant.”

The soft command dried his tears immediately and he sat stunned for a moment.

“Did you just…”

“I sure did. You are mine, human, and I plan to keep and train you as thus.”
His hands were shifting before Hagan realized what happened. Their long hard tips

were sinking into his skin.

“What the—” The heavy door of the room slammed open and he heard Captain

O’Connor biting off clipped orders. The Ouroboros was lifted off him and slammed back
onto the bed. He didn’t bother to struggle, just watched Hagan with unwavering blue eyes
as they produced additional chains to bind him with.

Hagan’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He couldn’t look away from the man, thanks

to his supremacy. He had completely dominated him and he trembled with the
knowledge.

As did O’Connor. “…you should leave.”
There was a beat of stillness because he couldn’t respond. He couldn’t move until the

Ouroboros smiled. “All right, you can go.”

Hagan’s feet moved forward on their own accord, and the sound of O’Connor’s hiss

assaulted his ears as he moved pass him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement
but was unable to turn his head.

“Oh, and Hagan? Come back and see me in two nights.”

Chapter Six

Hagan dreamed again, only this time he wasn’t suspended in the air and touched by a

formless body. Instead, when the heavy darkness of the waking world cleared, he found
himself in a very solid place.

The room was large and lined with the thick pillowed fabric he imagined they used

for padded cells. Only, these walls were blood-red, promising sin and excitement. The
floor was cold cement, as smooth as it was hard.

The bottoms of his feet complained royally, and he attempted to shift in order to give

them relief. His body refused to obey him. Startled, he tried again and panic set in when
he realized he was restrained. And naked.

Smooth, white rope wrapped around his body. A seamless pattern crisscrossed over

his joints and creased in a way that made every effort to move pure torture. He wiggled
and sobbed against the bindings until his arms were pulled painfully tight behind his
back. The bones in his wrists ground together even as he was forced to his knees by the
cord that connected them to his ankles. A lasso of rope wound around his balls and the
base of his cock, forcing a painful erection to bounce and jerk in step with his pounding
heart.

He tried to speak but found his mouth covered with a red leather strip. A zipper

slapped against his cheek when he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge it, and even
such a simple motion pulled the white cords tighter until he was left panting and
stimulated, afraid to breathe too deeply.

Slow minutes passed, and through them, he was forced to admit the pressure felt

good. From his crouched position he could see the intricate patterns of clear space around
his pecs, forcing blood toward his nipples until the taut nubs burned pleasantly.

An intentional shudder dragged a groan from his belly and sent it out through his

muffled mouth. One of the silky knots had slid from his lower spine and was inching
toward his exposed anus. The same cord was strung between his legs and wound around
his thighs. He whimpered when they tugged, the rope mimicking the attention of dozens
of hands on his shivering skin.

The ropes were strong, even with as fragile and giving as they looked. They held him

still and helpless, but he wasn’t afraid. Instead, he was filled with a hot sense of burning
anticipation. Questions raced through his mind but he ignored all of them, focusing on the
sensation the instruments made him feel. He didn’t realize how deeply he was
concentrating until he felt a hand on the back of his neck. The sudden contact caused him
to jerk but he couldn’t lift his head. The ropes were too tight now.

“They’re jute, you know. It’s a great material for this kind of thing. Beautiful, sturdy,

and it catches on itself masterfully.” The soft, musical voice struck him to his core and he
began panting against his gag.

He was here.
A casual hand ran through his hair as if this were the most common situation to meet

someone. The Ouroboros touched the back of his neck and sighed a little. “You managed
to make a little mess of yourself, Hagan. You really should have just sat and waited for
me to come to you. Now you won’t be able to watch what I’m going to do.”

Hagan’s face was about a foot away from his own twitching member at this point.

His shoulders were drawn together, his elbows inches apart behind his back. He was
kneeling in a shameful position before the Ouroboros, unable to do more than keep his
balance. In that moment, he was glad for his flexibility, but the strain the position put on
his muscles was nothing to sneer at. He burned and tingled on every plane of his body,
and he got the distinct impression the man before him knew it.

The Ouroboros continued to move around him and he got a glimpse of large, white

feet that led up to the powerful legs he remembered. He moved in front of him, and
Hagan wondered if he was just as naked as he was. The man reached out and put his hand
on his chest. A finger trailed over one of his nipples, and sharp pins and needles struck,
making him gasp against his gag. His dick trembled, squeezing out a drop of pearly
liquid.

“Does it hurt, my pet?” The voice was like musical bells singing in his head. Hagan

couldn’t answer. The man was turning slow circles around him, pinching and pulling at
sensitive folds. Each touch felt like agony and revelation, melted into each other and
poured over his body like liquid chocolate. Decadent, sinful pleasure scraped against the
hollows of his mind.

The Ouroboros moved back, making a small displeased noise in his throat. Hagan

frowned, trying to figure out what made him stop, only to flinch when he moved out of
his frame of vision. Hagan heard rustling as if something were being pulled free of a
swath of cloth.

He would have asked him what was going on if he could have spoken. He would

have asked him any number of things but the gag over his mouth held him silent.

When the first crack of leather hit his skin, he was too stunned to respond. His body

gave an involuntary jerk, causing the ropes holding him to quiver with malice.

He cried out against his gag when the second blow landed, waking all of the nerves

that were slowly going numb thanks to his struggles. The force of the blow pushed him
forward and his forehead struck the cement. His bottom hung in the air as a perfect target,
which the Ouroboros didn’t waste.

Strike after strike fell onto his ass until he knew it was as hot as an ember. The

stinging blossomed into outright agony, the burn traveling up his entire prone body until
he was flushed from head to toe. The cement felt like ice where his forehead and knees
touched it, and he couldn’t help the tears spilling out from his eyes and dropping to the
ground.

Then, just as swiftly as it began, the blows stopped. The Ouroboros put his hand on

the abused flesh he had created, and Hagan moaned with pleasure. Cool, white skin was a
soothing balm to his, and when the man bent his head and licked the welts, he shuddered.
Pleasure and pain were a living entity in his body, and the voice that usually screamed at
him was silent and satiated.

When the Ouroboros spoke this time, his musical voice had been dragged through

gravel. The usually lilting tone was deeper and harsher, grooved like cracked glass. The
tainted purity excited Hagan further and when he heard him moan against his butt, his
cock wept with excitement.

“Let’s try this again, all right?” With a strength that reminded Hagan he was a

human blended perfectly with a Liger, he lifted him up and righted his position so he was
again kneeling before him. He struggled to catch his breath for several seconds, knowing

the man was watching him with that intense gaze of his. After a moment, he put his hand
on the back of his neck once again. “Does it hurt, my pet?”

The gag was pressing into his lips. He could feel the cold metal of the zipper along

his jaw, and the ropes made every motion a thousand times more difficult. Still, he
nodded and forced the sounds to pass his lips. They were muffled and pitiful, more
buzzing than words. “Rresh ut hurrrtz.”

The Ouroboros laughed that beautiful, happy laugh of his and patted him on the

head. Hagan didn’t know how to explain what rushed through him at that moment. His
body was throbbing with pain and his shield, the object of his personality he had built his
entire sense of self-worth on, had been dashed. Still, he was … happy. Glad.

The Ouroboros knelt before him and he found himself staring into the warm, healing

puddles of his eyes. Hagan sighed, a strangely wistful sound.

The man was as naked as he was, his body every bit as delicious as he had hoped.

His cock was cradled in a nest of hair a shade darker than what was on his head, and
every bit as blue. It was long and thick, decorated with a slight curve and a generous pink
head.

Hagan swallowed audibly as he took him in, and the Homunculus laughed, catching

the glance he had thought was very subtle.

“So, you like what you see, then?”
He quickly responded as he had previously, and the man smiled his approval. “A

quick learner. I like that as well.”

He lifted himself up, and the tip of him swiped Hagan’s nose with the movement.

His skin smelled sweet and clean, just as he had expected. When the pressure of some of
the ropes suddenly gave, he almost collapsed forward. Steady arms held him up, rubbing
careful hands along his back. Blood rushed back into extremities he hadn’t known were
starved for it and some of the heat of his skin drained away into a more appropriate throb.

“There, now.”
The Ouroboros kept Hagan’s arms behind his back, but loosened the top so his

shoulders weren’t quite so strained. His legs were still bound and the cord teasing his
asshole remained as diligent as ever, but he could breathe and straighten. He did so
slowly, finally getting to see all of himself as he stood. His body shivered uncontrollably
and he was amazed to see the cords hadn’t dug into his skin, leaving no unsightly marks.

His confusion must have showed on his face because the Ouroboros gave a little

shrug. “Another advantage of using the jute ropes. You see,” he gestured towards the
remaining cords wrapped around his legs, “the pressure comes from the ropes moving
against one another, rather than actually tightening over your skin. The patterns are as
beautiful as they are ingenious, aren’t they?”

He swallowed again, quickly responding with a nod of his head and more of the

muffled speech.

The Ouroboros smiled cheerfully, the gleeful expression on his face stealing away

Hagan’s breath. He really was a beautiful man. “We don’t have much time left. Would
you like to continue?”

Something passed over his face but it was gone before Hagan could analyze it. It

might have been hesitation. He stood in front of him, suddenly holding a red leather cat-
o’-nine-tails. Hagan flinched, remembering the beating his ass had taken minutes before,
and wondered if he had done something wrong again.

This time the blue-haired man didn’t move to punish him for his hesitation, just

stood there, waiting for him to decide.

Hagan knew in that instant, if he had said no, the Ouroboros would have untied him

and let him go. It was written there in his mind. He wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want
him to. A hidden part of him swelled and glowed upon the realization. He nodded, doing
his best to smile at him. To let him know he was more than willing; he wanted this.

He wanted him.
The man returned his covered smile, for a moment his own need shining in his face.

Then, as quickly as the joy had sprouted, it was gone and a stone-faced warrior stepped
forward. Hagan expected to be made to bend over, but instead the Ouroboros pulled
another cord from thin air. He set the cat-o’-nine-tails on the ground for a moment and
vanished behind him.

He was pulled tight, the gag at his mouth secured by a rope of its own. That rope was

then tied to his ankles, forcing him to arch his back slightly. The position was confusing
but not uncomfortable. He could move a few inches without toppling over.

“Brace yourself, pet. If you lose your balance it will displease me greatly.”
He wasn’t sure what was about to happen but he knew without a doubt he didn’t

want to displease the man in any way. He nodded his understanding as best as he could
and told himself he would remain absolutely still no matter what happened.

The cat-o’-nine whistled in the air the moment before impact, and he held his breath.
It was a breath lost in his chest the moment those leather thongs connected with the

exposed flesh of his cock. He whimpered as pain slammed into his body from his dick.
His balls sought shelter within his body, only to find no place was safe. The Ouroboros
raised his arm again and again, hitting him from various angles with no tempo or reason
to the blows.

Endorphins flooded Hagan’s body making him light-headed with pleasure and pain.

His cock sang a low song of agony, even as it oozed pre-come.

He found himself lifting his hips slightly, begging for the next blow. He whimpered,

this time the sound completely born of fire-laced desire. His balls tightened again,
warning him, incredibly, he was about to explode.

“Do it, Hagan. I want you to cover every inch of your stomach in jizz.”
His voice, the sweet water smell of him, and the picture he painted fisting his prick

while he whipped his. Hagan sucked in a desperate breath and was able to taste him. The
top of his head blew off and he came in scalding ropes. The second pump of his balls sent
the warm liquid shooting so hard it hit his chin.

He saw stars, his mind shorting out until all that existed was the ongoing violence of

his orgasm. As if from a distance, he heard the cat-o’-nine hit the ground. The Ouroboros
was beside him, furiously jacking off. His seed hit Hagan’s skin, mixing with the puddles
he had already left, and he gasped as another wave of pleasure hit him low in the
stomach.

Hagan fell backward, magically unbound. The ropes melted away, and as giant

pillows spread out around them, they both fell backward. Their breaths mingled in the air;
they panted with the aftermath of the earthquake they’d created.

Lethargy slammed into Hagan’s limbs the moment he could breathe again. He smiled

stupidly, insanely relaxed. The Ouroboros spent valuable energy lifting himself on one
bent elbow so he could look at him. “I was right. You’re mine.”

He looked so smug Hagan’s first inclination was to say something snarky. Instead,

he continued to smile, finding his ever-present sense of defensiveness strangely absent.
The voice in his mind fairly purred in agreement.

The man shifted slightly, and Hagan thought he was going to kiss him. His usual

aversion didn’t rear its ugly head. In fact, he leaned in, anticipating the brush of his lips
across his own. He wanted him to kiss him.

A warm, familiar tongue swiped at the trail of semen at his chin. Shock registered in

his mind, and the Ouroboros laughed. “You’re absolutely adorable, human.” He paused
for a moment before nodding. “My name is Sekai. Remember what I said, you are to
come to me in two nights.”

Hagan shuddered, strangely touched by the fact that he gave him his name. Even he

knew this was a gift and he treated it as such. “Thank you, Sekai. I will come to see you.”

He grinned again and this time when he nodded Hagan noticed he was shimmering.

His edges were fading away. “You had better.”

Chapter Seven

Several messages from Hope awaited Hagan, growing more annoyed with every

hour that passed without his response. He decided to ignore them. Hope was a good girl
but he wasn’t fit for conversation or company. She’d thank him, if she knew what was
going on. Not that he knew himself.

An automatic message from Dr. Selby let him know he had missed his latest check-

in. She also sent him a more personal email, asking what was up. Again, he decided to
ignore her.

The real world could wait. Right now his only thought was in seeing the Ouroboros

again. Sekai. Hagan shuddered as the word bounced around in his head, soft and sultry.

He didn’t care about the Lige, he wanted nothing to do with them, or so he told

himself. Still, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t interested in him.

The sticky remains of his dream told him he wasn’t going to get away with such a

blatant lie. If nothing else, he was willing to take a closer look at what he wanted from
the Homunculus. Maybe then Hagan wouldn’t feel as if he were going to crawl out of his
skin if he didn’t see him.

He ran his hands through his hair, snagging them on the kinks and knots. A shower

would probably be his best option before going anywhere. After all, he’d made a promise
he planned to keep.

* * * *

The holographic guards informed him Sekai had been moved to a different section of

the ship. In fact, he had taken over one of the empty chapels that had been added to an
upper deck.

The entire floor was swarming with soldiers by the time Hagan exited the sliding

metal doors leading to Sekai’s new quarters. Another pair of identical holographic guards
had come to meet him when he rang in. Until yesterday, he’d never been able to enter any
of the sectors requiring clearance, and now he’d be allowed entry with no physical guard
at all. He decided to ignore the implications of the development.

“Hagan, what are you doing here? Now isn’t a good time.” His jaw dropped when

the priestess appeared almost as soon as he set foot in the foyer.

Her normally impeccable appearance was a little frazzled today. The sleek, blonde

hair she usually kept carefully groomed now stuck out of her French braid in mutiny. Her
normally flawless pantsuit was smudged with a dark stain, and the high, gleaming heels
wrapped around her feet were scuffed.

“I can see that,” he offered, eyeing her clothing pointedly. “Why are you here?”
She gave a lazy shrug that somehow managed to make her look like a queen even in

her ruined garments. “We’re having a little trouble containing a … guest.” Those honey-
colored eyes flickered away for a moment, and he blinked in confusion. Before he could
ask, she continued. “The admirals have decided on an impromptu meeting.”

Hagan’s back immediately went up and he looked around the spacious hallway,

expecting to be attacked at any point. “Is that right? Have they decided to string me up,

finally? Maybe a nice draw and quarter?”

Persinna might have laughed if they weren’t surrounded by soldiers. As it were, she

steeled her shoulders and slapped him. Hagan had no doubt she could have done real
damage, but he managed to skate by with little more than a split lip for his insolence.
“Mind your manners, Hagan. You were hardly a blip on the docket.”

He grinned, tasting the coppery tang of blood against his tongue. “Which means I

was under discussion? So, tell me what was decided.”

“You managed to get to this floor alone and they’re gathered here. You should have

figured it out by now.”

He should have been happy, but for some reason her answer caused him to swear in

his mind. The only real reason he’d be allowed to come up on his own is if he weren’t
considered a threat.

The admirals—the upper level officers who oversaw the five ship captains—had

decided he was indeed a human, or at the very least, something below their monitor. He
would be allowed to come and go at the whim of the M’fal and Captain O’Connor, as he
was no threat to the people he was working for. That’s what it all boiled down to, more or
less. He was considered little more than a servant.

“At any rate, you should be happy.” The priestess continued to speak, though he had

a difficult time hearing her over the gritting of his teeth. “You’re no longer under any
threat of emulsion.”

He couldn’t stop the scoff from leaving his lips. Emulsion, the fancy name they’d

given to killing any subjects from the Catalysts experiments who failed to stabilize.
“Lucky me.”

“Hagan—”
The priestess lifted her head as a deep roar pounded into the air. The sound

shuddered around them, shaking the glass in the frames of the doors and the panels of the
hanging security frames. He sucked in a harsh breath, hissing out his name on instinct.

“Sekai.”
Hagan took off in the direction of the sound before anyone around him had a chance

to react. The priestess called out to him but he couldn’t keep his feet from moving.

“Airmen, stop him.” O’Connor’s voice sliced through the air.
Hands appeared almost from nowhere, reaching out to stop his mad rush toward the

continued roaring. He pushed through them, ignoring shouts of warning and challenge.

It wasn’t until Raimi appeared before him, hands folded over his chest as usual.

“You can’t go this way, Perfidy. Why don’t you turn back before someone is forced to
teach you a lesson about where humans belong?”

Hagan’s heart was slamming against his chest, bruising his ribs from the inside out.

Sekai’s roar of fury rent through the supercharged air again, and he leapt forward, unable
to bear the sound.

Raimi caught him easily, flinging him back against a throng of bodies. Others rushed

up to hold him still and out of the way, even as Persinna swept past him. Her eyes
snapped to attention when a number of well-dressed officers slid into the narrow space.

“Subject 02F—M’fal Persinna, what is happening here?”
It wasn’t lost on any of them that one of the highest ranking military personnel had

just used her name as well as her title.

There were three of them and Hagan’s limited knowledge of military ranks told him

they were upper rear admiral, vice admiral, and lower rear admiral of the World Military
Force.

The lower rear admiral was a short but athletic woman with thick black hair and

almond-shaped eyes. She had to be in her mid-fifties but her face was only lightly lined.
Dressed in a uniform much like the other soldiers, it was the stripes on her sleeves that
marked her rank.

Whatever answer the priestess may have tried to give was swiftly cut off when Sekai

called out again. The lower rear admiral gave a low hiss, probably realizing who was
making the commotion. She moved swiftly, ducking around the growing crowd as she
zeroed in on the noise.

Hagan’s already hammering heart just about burst when she cleared a set of silver

doors he’d never seen. A low moan slipped past his lips before he could catch it.

“By the sun!” The lower rear admiral may as well have said nothing for all the

attention anyone paid her. Everyone in the hallway was focused on the gruesome picture
framed by the silver columns of metal.

Sekai huffed with exertion; the simple white clothing he wore hanging over his lean

body in tatters. Bruised and broken bodies littered the ground around him, each
displaying a dark uniform covered in bolts of moving light. Several soldiers managed to
remain standing after what seemed to have been a violent struggle. Chairs were toppled
over and what might have once been a beautiful vase was now scattered across the
ground in woeful pieces.

Sekai and the standing soldiers ignored the newly opened doors. They were focused

on the battle still very much underway. There was a gruff-looking soldier within the
room.

He stood off to the side, but Hagan could feel the agitation Sekai threw off while his

gaze bored into the man. He didn’t recognize him, which meant either he must have only
recently been initialized or was part of another ship’s register.

“You don’t have a choice, Sekai.” His voice was deep and sorrowful, a low march

through the air. “You have to do it.”

Sekai hissed something, and Hagan jerked in surprise. The music in his voice was

long gone, leaving nothing but ice-cold steel. “The lot of you allowed our Sister to be
killed. Why the hell should I do anything for you?”

The remaining soldiers flinched but none of them backed down. The one who’d

spoken continued, his sad voice laced with more pain than Hagan thought was possible.
“How could we have saved her? It was too late. Just like it is now. All we can look to at
this point is the future. One only you can guarantee. Shinah would have wanted that.”

The moment the name left the man’s lips, Sekai moved. He exploded in the air like a

rip in the cosmos, sweeping up debris from the ground and flinging it violently to the
walls. The double doors clapped against the walls, and everyone moved to respond.
Black-clad soldiers and the two Ligers moved to apprehend. They threw shaking hands
up to protect their exposed faces, but quickly realized it was a hopeless gesture.

The wind was as sharp as whips, cracking through the air with lightning fingertips.

The shock began to wear off on the people around him. The lower rear admiral growled a
swift order and more soldiers, these dressed in silver colors, began to pour out of the door
they’d exited. It was the first time Hagan had seen the personal guards do anything but
hover around the officers, but they moved with such surety he understood why action

wasn’t frequently called for.

They rushed the door, only to be stopped when a barrier of lightning formed in

midair. The first man to reach it was given a powerful jolt, which sent him flying back
into the arms of his fellow operatives.

The lower rear admiral cursed under her breath, leaning toward the other admirals.

Hagan caught one of her whispered lines but it was hard to hear over the violent wind.
“Get a dart.”

“Do not concern yourself, Admiral Cano. I will be leaving shortly.” Sekai’s voice

boomed out of the small space like a clap of thunder, echoing as it touched everyone it
came in contact with.

When Hagan swept his gaze back to the door, Sekai was again focused on the man

who was speaking. The barrier he’d created was startlingly strong. All around him, the
members of the Lige as well as the military hashed and scrambled to get out of the way.

Even within the ranks of the compound, there weren’t many Lige who could handle

lightning. And it was rare for anyone to use it with such skill.

“The WMF only wants to find out what your purpose is. It’s obvious you can do

fantastic things, but when you were brought to us originally, it was as a member of the
Lige. You have to go back,” the man tried again, his voice shaking with his awe.

“Yes, I heard you. What for? So you can use me and my abilities for your own

greedy purposes? I will not play messiah to a band of cowards.”

“Do you not want revenge for what was done to your Sister? Whoever killed her may

well still be alive. You and the last of them could be in danger!”

Sekai shrugged, but Hagan knew his rage was growing. Deep in the shadows of his

heart he saw something stir in his eyes, something gleaming and dangerous.

“What do I care? I know I can stop a killer if he should try to raise a hand against

me. The only ones I see who actually need me to do anything about this, are you and
yours. You and the surviving Lige who let the killer take power in the first place.”

“That’s not what happened.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses!”
Something went off in Hagan’s head. An explosion, but with the air. Everyone was

thrown backward, including the admirals. They hit the ground in a graceless heap.

Sekai seemed impossibly strong. His aura smothered everyone in the room. He

clapped his hands and lightning danced in the air without the aid of clouds. “I’m not
going back. I will never go back.”

“Your Sister—”
“You know nothing about Her!” The soldier couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.

Sekai was on him in an instant, his eyes blazing with a blue sickness. The barrier of
electricity crumbled and crashed to the ground, opening up the room.

The lower rear admiral was the first to recover. “Stop him.”
Hagan held his breath as the guards rushed in, tackling Sekai from the side. They

pulled him off the man he was choking, completely ignoring the funnel of wind that
hugged his struggling body. “I’m never going back! Never!”

Hagan watched them struggle to hold him down, wrenching his body across the

room and slamming him onto the cold floor. Sekai hissed and spat, jerking in defiance
even as they wrestled him to the ground. His eyes were blazing blue, his power erupting
and going wild. He thrashed furiously and refused to stop, even when his jaw slammed

against the ground and blood began to trickle from his mouth.

Watching the struggle, his world tilted on itself. Sekai roared violently, refusing to

be held down. Hagan’s eardrums vibrated with the weight of the displeasure in the room,
and the thrumming continued throughout his body. A harsh hand pinned the Ouroboros to
the ground by his shoulder and Hagan felt the answering bruise on his own skin. He
cursed violently, the words coming at as little more than a growl of his own.

He started toward the thrashing heap of arms and legs but Raimi caught him. “Don’t

get close to them, Perfidy.” The Liger sneered the low words, and for once the slur struck
him. Hagan’s oversensitive body continued to thrum with the violence on the floor.

“Let go of me, Raimi.” He managed the words through clenched teeth. His ears rang

with the implied threat but he couldn’t snatch the words from the air.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Raimi puffed up his chest. “Or what?”
Instinct took over and Hagan leaned away from him, just far enough to get a decent

amount of leverage. Muscle he didn’t realize he had swam just below the surface of his
skin, smooth and well oiled. He struck out, his fist whistling in the air like a sword.
Raimi’s eyes widened with surprise, though Hagan would never know if it was because
of the speed of his blow or the power behind it.

All he knew was that one moment Raimi was standing in front of him, as smug and

huge as ever. The next second he was across the room. His limp body flew through the
air like a stone and slammed against the thick black glass on the other side of the room.
The viewing squares vibrated, threatening to break.

Hagan shuddered, swallowing hard. His vision sharpened and he took in his

surroundings with new eyes. Literally. Half of the room’s occupants were still watching
the struggle between Sekai and the guards. The others were staring at him with shocked
expressions painted over their faces.

He ignored them, moving to where Sekai lay on the ground. He continued to

struggle, his eyes unfocused and narrowed as if he hated everything and recognized
nothing. When he leaned down, the Ouroboros managed to get one arm free and take a
swipe at him. If Hagan had been in a better mood he might have understood. The guy was
having a terrible day and now he was being held against his will.

Unfortunately for him, Hagan wasn’t having the best day anymore either. He slapped

him as hard as he could, his hand spilling beads of blood out across his shirt. “Sekai.
Stop.”

For a heartbreaking second, nothing happened. The Liger before him continued to

snarl and hiss, and he let his shoulders slump. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but
he had thought…

“Okay.” The voice was so soft he could barely hear it. He would have assumed that

he had imagined it, if the body before him hadn’t stopped fighting. He went still, his eyes
slowly bleeding away their unnatural light. “Okay, Hagan. I’m done.”

A laugh fell from his lips in response to such a simple response to the last few

minutes. It was so absurd he didn’t know what to do. He reached out to stroke Sekai’s
cheek where he’d hit him, but one of the guards beat him to it. A big fist connected with
the back of his head and Sekai slumped over, unconscious. Fury burst through Hagan and
he almost jumped at the guard who dared to knock the Ouroboros out.

The priestess was the one who stopped him, her hand coming to land on his shoulder.

“Hagan.” Her voice sounded so soft and sad. “We have to talk.”

His hands trembled with the need to lash out. He glanced down and blanched. His

fingers had curved into razor-sharp claws. A Liger was trembling under his current form,
a skeleton under the one he wore now. He watched them realign into human fingers with
disbelieving eyes. “Persinna?”

For once he wasn’t punished for forgetting to use her proper title. Instead, she helped

him stand and spun him around. The admirals were waiting, each of them wearing a
different confused expression. “Now, Hagan. We have to talk now.”

They moved through the crowd silently, and he did his best to ignore how everyone

parted eagerly to get out of their way. He was shocked when the priestess led him to the
room where the admirals worked.

As far as he knew, no one was allowed into this room except for the officers

themselves. It was a closely guarded center of the Nautilus.

He should have been honored, but mostly he was trembling with fear. The room was

huge and oval, a whitewashed sphere of dizzying proportions. There were two levels, the
second lined with plush cushions that allowed the seated to peer over a low half wall in
order to see to the bottom. There were only two doors, the one they’d entered and one on
the far end of the other room, marking the radius of the circle.

He gasped when he looked up. The ship was only five or six decks high, not

including the engines and command center. Somehow, all of the white gave the ceiling
the illusion of never ending. It was painted the same bone white as the walls and
cushions.

Everything in the large space was white but for a floating square hanging over their

heads. He couldn’t see how it was hanging there, but it spun in the air lazily, four screens
reflecting the white of the rest of the surfaces.

The priestess led him to the middle of the room. She gestured for him to stand, and it

wasn’t lost on him that he was placed directly under the spinning square. When she
turned to leave him there, he couldn’t keep from whispering his confusion. “What’s
going on, M’fal Persinna? What just happened with Sekai? Why am I here now?”

The priestess turned to him, and he was again struck by how sad she looked. She

looked much older and more weary than he could ever remember her looking before. His
alarm increased tenfold when she took a step closer to him and pressed her mouth to his
forehead. She was rarely nice, never mothering, but the action managed to bring tears to
his eyes.

He barely caught her hushed whisper. “Don’t worry, Hay. I won’t let them kill you.”
He stood dumb, unable to ask another question. Instead, he watched the officers file

into the room slowly and take various seats throughout the second floor. Each was joined
by their Muril, and it was all he could do to keep from squirming. The men who were
chosen as Muril were legendary.

More than the guards, these individuals kept close, often personal, tabs on the

officers. They protected the admirals from plots and potential dangers from inside the
ranks.

In fact, it was said the Muril were the only surviving evidence of the military’s own

attempts at genetic engineering. The project had been abandoned decades ago, after the
subjects had massacred their doctors.

It seemed like it took hours but when everyone was finally in position, they began to

call out their names. “Vice Admiral Dubois, Captain of Demeter, standing in attendance

with Muril Butler.”

“Lower Rear Admiral Cano, Captain of Argo. Standing in attendance, accompanied

by Muril Otieno.”

“Upper Rear Admiral Cameron, Captain of the Fuwalda, standing in attendance.”
“Captain O’Connor, Base Commander of Nautilus, standing in attendance.”
“Persinna, M’fal of the Goldemane, standing in attendance alongside Raimi of the

Goldmane.”

The priestess’s voice was laced with steel. He almost opened his mouth to speak, but

Persinna cut right to the chase. “This impromptu meeting has been called to decide the
fate of one Hagan Golde, son of the infamous Yesha Golde, previous M’fal of the
Goldemane.”

Her voice was devoid of any emotion but he still flinched. All eyes settled on Hagan.
Cano cleared her throat. “We previously passed him as a human. We thought we’d

leave it at that, but apparently, the boy isn’t what he seems. He obviously has some
engineered abilities.”

The silence that stretched through the space was all but tangible. Upper Admiral

Cameron cleared her throat. “You’re laying down quite the accusation. Do we have any
proof to back it up? It seems like only this morning we’d decided he should be given free
access to our newest development.”

The lower admiral scoffed. “I saw him throw a full-grown male across a room only

minutes before. He all but shattered the viewing screen.”

The disdain in her voice brought his head up. He immediately knew he didn’t like

her. She and her Muril were glaring daggers at him and he didn’t know why. There was a
distant roaring in his head when his gaze landed on her protector. He was … ordinary.

It wasn’t a kind thing to say about a military man but there was nothing special about

him. He stood a little shorter than expected. His build was neither lacking nor
spectacular. His hair was on the lighter side of brown, an almost forgettable tan. His
narrowed eyes seemed familiar, but Hagan couldn’t figure out where he’d seen him
before. He couldn’t help the dismissive way he shifted his gaze away from him. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw the Muril lift his lips in a sneer, but he refused to
acknowledge his contempt or challenge. He just wasn’t worth the time or effort.

His battle of wills had gone unnoticed. In fact, it seemed as if the admirals hadn’t

even cared he stopped paying attention to them, which was probably a bad idea since they
were talking about him.

“M’fal Persinna. We have granted you certain rights in an effort to more seamlessly

blend our … recourses. But, if it becomes apparent you cannot control your people, any
privileges you’ve been given will be revoked.”

The priestess didn’t rise to the other woman’s temper. She brushed a bit of lint off

her shoulder before bothering to answer. “Does it look like he is struggling? Perhaps you
don’t remember what just happened clearly, what with your advancing age. It was he who
managed to stop the Homunculus.”

The lower rear admiral bristled at the mention of her age. “I remember him just fine.

I also remember the damage done while he stood around just as shocked as the rest of
us.”

“Well, at least you’ve gotten one thing right. You freely admit, then, he couldn’t

have had anything to do with this incident.”

“If that is so, how do you explain the strength he showed? The claws? Or are you

going to tell us his shifting eyes were a trick of the light?”

Persinna opened her mouth to retort, as cool as ever, but the vice admiral cleared his

throat. “I would very much like to know the answer to this myself, M’fal. Did you not tell
us there was no way the boy was Liger?”

The priestess frowned thoughtfully before leaning into Raimi. The scowl he shot her

was borderline belligerent but he nodded stiffly. “There is no way the boy is a part of the
Lige.”

Dubois continued, “I believe what you say. I’m sure you would recognize your own

people. But you can’t be sure he’s human either, can you?”

Again, Hagan was completely lost. He didn’t know what was going on, but he did

recognize a victory. Dubois was vice admiral, and outranked the others in attendance. If
he had decided to believe the priestess, there was no way around his final word without
calling in bigger guns.

Cano let out a displeased noise, which was ignored by all. Her Muril shifted and

whispered something in her ear and she quickly nodded. “You’re right, Persinna. The boy
was able to control the outburst by the Homunculus. But how are we to know if that was
just a fluke? Maybe he can be contained by anyone who will slap him hard enough. There
is no proof it was because of him in particular.”

The priestess narrowed her eyes, seeing where this was going, even though Hagan

didn’t. “This is true.”

Triumph spread over Cano’s face like poison, making him severely wish he could

jump over a few levels of white furniture and punch her in the face. He reminded himself
he didn’t care what she thought.

She cast him a fake, cheerful smile. “Then it’s settled. He will prove to us by the end

of this quarter he can control the Homunculus for testing. If he cannot, he will face
emulsion as an unknown and unclassifiable entity.”

The other officers in the room murmured in consideration.
Stunned, he looked to the priestess. The flick of her eyes was barely perceivable, but

it calmed him immediately. “You’re wasting your time, Cano.” Her voice was casual,
almost bored, but no one missed the scathing lack of title. “What happens to Sekai is a
matter of Lige territory. As I explained to you this morning, only we can possibly
understand what he is going through. Without us, he is just another liability for you.”

“Even if that were true, you seem to have forgotten you are here and safe, under the

expectation of helping us toward common goals.”

Again there was disinterest in her voice. “And who gets to decide where those goals

are set, hmm? Face it. The WMF needs what we have to offer. Don’t think because we’re
animals, that we’re stupid. We’re the only hope you have to defeat the Nihil, so maybe
you should start acting like it.”

The punch of shock shuddered through the air was thick enough to slide through the

glass. Hagan lifted the edges of his mouth in a smug smile when their hot gazes fell onto
his skin.

Upper Rear Admiral Cameron was the first to break the spell of surprise. “Are you

threatening us?”

The priestess gave a casual little shrug. “Absolutely not. The Lige want to complete

our mission. It is why we were created and why so many of us are waking. We’re more

than prepared to do our duty—we’re eager. But at the same time, we’re not willing to be
used. Please keep that in mind.”

Vice Admiral Dubois nodded. “That is understandable and reasonable, M’fal. Only

please keep in mind, as humans, we are a fragile and distrustful people. Your Lige are
stronger, faster and live longer. We are only attempting to ensure our own safety with
these measures.”

There was a beat of silence before Raimi bent down to whisper in her ear again. She

tilted her head to the side as if considering something before she turned back to the
officers. “Then I suppose we have a deal. Hagan will work with Sekai.”

The leaders in the room knew there was nothing left to say. Hagan, however, had one

distinct thought echoing in his head: Persinna knew how to get the best out of every deal.

Unfortunately, that didn’t do anything for his frayed nerves.
The priestess was the last to leave the room, taking her time before setting him free.

The moment the glass slid up, he lashed out. “What the hell was that about? They were
going to kill me!”

Aunt Persinna ran her hands through her hair. “I did the best I could, given the

situation, Hay. They would have had you emulsified immediately if I hadn’t agreed to the
bargain.”

He straightened, suddenly ashamed of himself. The priestess had stuck her neck out

for him and he was repaying her by being an ass. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

A sharp nod covered what might have been a blush. She shrugged, turning her back

away from him. “It wasn’t only for your benefit, you know. The moment the
Homunculus awakened, the Lige felt … something.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “Something?”
“Yes. Nadira knew the moment he opened his eyes. She smiled and said ‘It has

begun.’ Ten seconds later, each of us was hit by a bolt of invisible lightning.”

He swallowed, shuddering. Lightning. “So he could be the answer to your problems.

Maybe he has the power to restore you to your battle states.”

Persinna shook her head. “I had hoped so, but Nadira was adamant. He’s only a

piece of the puzzle and not even the most important part.”

“Then what is?”
“She didn’t know. But either way, things are changing. Ligers are getting stronger.

We’re not at our previous strength, but we can feel the chains loosening.”

“And Sekai is a big part of that.”
Something flashed in the depths of her eyes, something clever and scary. A slow,

feline smile spread across her face. “Yes. We have no doubt Sekai is indeed a part of this
process. Only none of us knew him before today.”

The way she led the statement had him putting his guard up. “What do you mean?

You know I barely spoke to him before this moment.”

She turned her head back to the door where Raimi stood with his hands clasped in

front of him. “Funny, though. While you were giving your report last week, you didn’t
seem to know his name.”

“Because I didn’t know it then.”
“And yet you knew it before that Liger said it. Don’t bother denying it, cub, I heard

you. Before O’Connor gave the order for his airmen to stop you.”

Hagan sucked in an involuntary breath, a wash of disbelief hitting him. She was

right. He had dreamed his name, dreamed him telling him that particular unknown truth.

He knew him.

Chapter Eight

It was impossible.
Whatever was written on his face at that moment was enough to force Persinna to let

him go. Hagan left the admiral’s room in a daze, unsure how to process the new
information as it came to him. He was through the lift and bending over to enter his
requested designation before he realized he wasn’t alone.

Raimi’s large hand closed over his smaller one. He flung it outward and began

pressing buttons, sending the machine to a hover status. It wouldn’t allow anyone to enter
or exit until the maintenance codes were released. In his state of shock, Hagan could only
stare at him. “Why him?” His gruff voice shattered the silence with heavy accusation.

Hagan trembled while trying to maintain a casual shrug. “I don’t know what you’re

talking about.”

All too quickly a powerful hand was around his throat. If he needed any proof there

was more power flowing under Raimi’s skin, it was found when he lifted him clear off
the ground. He gulped against his hold, refusing to struggle.

“I can smell it on you. Give me a Sundamned answer! Why. Him?”
There wasn’t enough air in his lungs to gasp an answer. He brought his hands up to

his, trying to pry them away from his airway when his lungs began their familiar burn.
Raimi shoved him back against one of the cold metal panels, allowing some of his weight
to be braced. He hissed choking dioxide and kicked out at him, trying to catch his chest
with his heel.

“You should have chosen me. I could have protected you.” Raimi’s furious

declaration pumped ice into his veins. Those grated words chilled him even more than
when the hulk hauled him back up and slammed hard lips on top of his.

Hagan shivered, fighting the pull of powdery white frost fluttering through his mind.

Tongue mashed against his teeth, wet and angry. He gagged, even as he was pressed
against a warm body and the cold metal of the wall. Memories flashed in his mind,
tainted by the sound of fangs extending from his attacker’s gums.

Hagan remembered…
Half a dozen steps past imposing industrial doors, he stood in a lobby of sorts. It was

the exact opposite of what he was expecting. Inviting cream-colored furniture and a plush
white carpet softened the rough architectural details of exposed brick and ductwork. This
was a part of the compound he wasn’t familiar with.

Sparkling lights on low settings painted the room with a brush of faux candlelight.

On the other side of a built-in digital pond was a reception desk, staffed by a pert blond
with a ponytail draped low against his shoulder. “Welcome back, Mister Raimi. Are you
here for a party?”

Hagan followed him as he made his way toward the receptionist, a grin stretched

across his handsome face. Gliding across the carpet, he realized there were recessed
doors pressed into each wall.

“Yeah. Is my room ready?”
“Absolutely. Please go right ahead.” The blond paused to wink at him. “Have a great

time.”

The lobby melted away and Raimi and he were moving through a long corridor with

more of those recessed doors. The tightening in his stomach bottomed out the moment
the door clicked behind him. It was as if the hallway itself had been holding its breath,
and the second they were secure it blew it out.

The first thing he realized was that the barrier had been soundproof. Standing on the

other side of it, his ears were assaulted. Pained whimpering danced in the air alongside
startled gasps of pure erotic pleasure. Dozens of voices clung moist and quivering in the
air; their cries of pleasure soaked into his skin and weighed him down like heavy rain.

He opened his mouth, though he had no idea what he was planning to say. Raimi

paid him no mind, dragging him over the threshold of what may as well of been a
swirling blue portal to another dimension. The atmosphere crackled with a muggy
yearning. His pores felt clogged with it, his every breath saturated.

Gasping, he stumbled, each beat of his heart pushing more of the airborne fire

through his veins. Beside him, Raimi took a deep lungful, shuddering with pleasure.

“It’s good, isn’t it? The Curtain is the only thrall club worth a damn.”
He managed to drag in enough air to clear the rushing in his ears. “Thrall? This is a

thrall?”

Raimi stopped walking abruptly, and Hagan slammed into the unforgiving force that

made up his back. Before he could right himself, the hulking man spun around, strong
arms creating bands of steel around his waist. The Liger’s head dipped until his face was
inches from where Hagan was pressed against his massive chest.

“Don’t worry, cub. The others—they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re

a Liger, same as me.” A canine dragged over his earlobe and sent heat spiraling toward
his already throbbing shaft. “You have the thrall, I can feel you trembling. We just need
to wake it up.”

The bruises painting his skin pounded beneath the clothing Raimi loaned him. Hagan

was young but that didn’t mean the others had gone easy on him after he failed the Shift.
He’d probably be dead now if Raimi hadn’t championed him. “Unlike the rest of you, his
eighteenth year only started four hours ago. He still has time,” he’d said, daring anyone to
raise an objection.

He pushed him away and down the corridor once more, where they passed the doors.

In each darkened depth, Hagan saw squirming bodies pressed together. Wet, noisy kisses
and peppered moans filled the space between his ears and behind his eyes. When he was
jerked to a stop again, he was flanked by two identical doors. One was empty, a single
low light lit over a simple bed. A chest hugged the far wall, the only other furniture in the
small room.

The other room held two naked Liger males on an identical bed. The larger of the

two was a chiseled warrior older than Raimi. He had dark eyes and mocha latte-colored
skin that contrasted with the smaller man, with his freckled skin and bright green eyes
who was pinned against the unused sheets. Both boasted the jet-black manes of the Ash,
though the warrior had the long, healthy hair that came with age. The other man had his
hair in short spikes, signaling his youth. Their lithe bodies locked in silent combat. Lean
muscles bunched and stretched until a sheen of sweat clung to the shadows of each
rippling plane.

The smaller man hissed low in his throat, wide sea-green eyes focused on the slow

grin spreading across the warrior’s face. He used powerful legs to hoist himself high in

the air, effectively flinging the bigger man off and away. With barely any recovery time,
he flipped up and lunged forward, fist clenched and teeth bared. The blow clipped the
bigger man in the jaw, too slow to connect fully. Never dropping his grin, Mocha-latte
returned the attack, hitting Green-eyes so hard his lip split.

Hagan’s own beating was still fresh in his mind. He took a step forward before he

could form a second thought. Raimi caught him, holding him still as the fight continued.

“You don’t want to join the fray, sweet cub. Just watch.”
“He’s going to beat the hell out of him.” His voice felt harsh with strain, as

conflicted as his body.

“He’ll only hurt him as much as needs to; now be quiet and watch.”
The smaller man managed to straddle the first and Long Hair let out a gruff moan of

pleasure. Thick, callused hands settled over slim hips and the smaller man stilled for a
moment.

“Enough, yearling,” the warrior whispered, his soft deep voice charged with the

power of his Liger’s roar. “You will fight well when the time comes, but for now we will
feed your thrall.”

He moved so fast Hagan couldn’t track the movement with his eyes. One moment

the boy was sitting on top of a solid mass of dark delight, the next he was on all fours
with his face pressed against the mattress. The warrior now faced the open door, his
lower body pressed firmly against the wiggling buttocks of the freckled man.

Hagan sucked in an involuntary breath when his gaze landed on him.
Slowly, so slowly, the warrior ran a sharpened claw down the back of Green-eyes,

his own never wavering. Hagan was close enough to see goosebumps pebble over the
exposed skin, even as the younger man continued to fight. He bucked uselessly, the steel
band of fingers at his neck keeping him from moving.

His gut clenched when the boy’s voice punched through the air. “Please.”
Dark eyes flashed above him and the warrior grinned at Hagan as he lined himself

against Green-eyes’ trembling ass. He must have seen the confusion in his expression,
before he pressed the hand no longer wrapped around the base of his cock into the
smaller man’s hair.

“Blaine, tell the cub what you want.” He jerked the delicate strands and the boy let

out a soft little whimper of pain. For the first time, that green gaze meshed with Hagan’s
and widened as if he’d just noticed he was there. A pretty blush spread over his pale
cheeks and his red lips pressed together in embarrassment.

The warrior shifted behind him, dragging his body against white skin again. He

licked the ridges of his free hand, wetting the tips before they vanished between them.

A pink tongue flashed over that red mouth and the lump of apple at Blaine’s throat

bobbed. “I want you, Alan. I need to feel you inside…” The words trailed off until it was
nothing but a whisper, and Hagan missed the rest of what he said.

He’d all but forgotten Raimi was behind him, but the air trembled with his pleased

laughter. “Just give it to him, Ashmane.”

Alan, the dark-skinned warrior, moved his hands to hold slender hips, a quick and

aggressive jerk of motion. From where he stood, Hagan couldn’t actually see the moment
he slid in to the hilt.

He didn’t have to.
Blaine lifted his head, eyes and mouth wide. His fangs flashed and waves of tightly

coiled pleasure slammed into his muscular frame. The light whimpers caught in his
throat, swelled into a healthy mewl. They filled the air, joined the symphony of erotic
voices wrapped around Hagan. His tool twitched wildly, jerking with every thrust of
Alan’s thighs.

When Raimi pulled him back into the other room he barely managed to hold in his

own moan. His touch felt like fire crashing into his balls. Warm hands lifted the hem of
his shirt and traced the grooves that lay at his abs. Hagan burned; his erection so intense it
hurt. Raimi’s hot mouth touched the top of his ear, and he took in a shuddering breath,
letting his eyes slam shut. Hagan was half out of his mind with lust one moment,
drowning in the thrall clinging to his skin.

“You are mine, Hagan.”
With the next heartbeat, he turned cold.
His body flashed like ice, his penis went flaccid. The tight skin of his sac relaxed and

sagged as if he’d sprayed it with cold water. Even the pounding in his chest slowed as the
ardor cooled.

He was acutely aware of the moment Raimi sensed the change. He went still as a

board, a disbelieving breath held in his chest. “Your thrall. It’s gone.”

Hagan hiccupped, as confused as he sounded. The thrall, Raimi had explained to him

before, was an ingrained need of all male Ligers. Their cats demanded frequent and
intense sexual satisfaction on a regular basis. Once the thrall was initiated, it couldn’t be
stopped before release. Even now he could feel the Bulwark’s own need pressed against
the small of his back.

“Are you really human?” The question came out as a sneer. The thrall was almost

contagious. Humans as well as Ligers were touched by it, but it was only those who were
truly incapable of connecting with the Catalysts that were without drive. They couldn’t
offer as much physical and elemental stability to the Lige.

Emotional and physical fulfillments were the only way to honor the Liger.
The vision shattered, and Hagan was back inside the elevator, standing precariously

in one corner. Raimi was as far away from him as he could get and still be in the cube.
Pain throbbed along his jaw as he grinned.

Even now he could feel the heat from Raimi’s gaze. Lust and disgust blazed through

the air, striking him with open-palmed viciousness. The Liger had been furious, maybe
even hurt, by his flash-freeze. It’d been all the priestess could do to keep him from killing
him outright. Instead, she’d fallen back on the lesser of two evils and had him
unofficially marked as a human.

“If he were a human he would have fallen to my supremacy immediately!” Raimi

had railed against the ruling, thrall still high in his blood. Even after taking a surrogate,
he’d wanted Hagan. Lust hung around him like a cloud.

The priestess had seen and used it against him. “Perhaps it isn’t Hagan we should be

examining tonight. You are the one unable to control his needs, Liger. It isn’t unheard of
for a mixed-blood human to be gifted with certain catlike abilities, even without the gift.
It is up to us, as Lige to exhibit caution with them.”

Chastised and put in his place, Raimi had nodded, his head bowed in submission. He

was on his way to being a commendable fighter, but he was still lower on the hierarchy
than the next in line to be M’fal.

She’d saved him but the bittersweet victory had come with a price. Shame sunk into

Hagan’s mind and heart. That’s why he couldn’t have Sekai. Why would he subject
himself to such earth-shattering rejection again?

He fled the lift as soon as his vision cleared, ignoring the unconscious mass of

Raimi’s body. Muscle pounded under the stretch of his skin, and he knew he’d hit the
Liger but couldn’t remember doing so. Panicked, he began moving his feet blindly until
he reached a destination.

He could have used the com but he knocked on Hope’s door. The jarring impact felt

good, echoing through his body like so much emotion clogging his mind. Punishing
metal connected with the thin skin stretched across his knuckles. He grunted in pain,
relishing the momentary distraction. Gritting his teeth, he banged harder, trying to force
the image of shimmering blue eyes out of his head.

Raimi’s accusations pounded their way through his skull. He’d denied it, but there

was no way he could lie to himself here with only the drumming of his fist against metal
to break the heavy silence of his thoughts and the screaming of his body.

He wanted Sekai. He wanted him desperately, even if he could never have him. He’d

have to settle for something else, someone…

“Who the hell is it?” Hope jerked her door open angrily. She drew up short when she

saw him. Wrapped in a sheet, her skin slightly pink, and her hair smelling lightly of wild
flowers, she’d obviously rushed from her shower.

He ignored the voice in his head that said she smelled wrong—what he really wanted

in his nostrils was rainwater and spring.

“You’re bleeding.”
Her soft, feminine voice irked him somehow and he dropped his fist, attempting to

smile. “Can I come in?”

She hopped backward, ushering him through the hallway leading to her living room.

Her place was much nicer than his, and she kept all of the walls up, separating the huge
space into bedroom, living room, bathroom, kitchen and dining room. She also decorated
tastefully with loving pastels. The same gray walls were warm and charming, thanks to
art and photos. Her floral scent clung to every surface, subtle but still overwhelming.

“Is everything all right? You look a little frazzled.”
He didn’t answer her. The playful expression she’d adopted slowly bled away into a

sort of bland confusion. Her head cocked to the side in a face he’d seen a hundred times
before. It reminded him of a hunting hound waiting for a command.

After a couple minutes she smiled, slower this time. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t given

any indication he’d heard her.

To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing in her rooms. The longer he

stood there, the more agitated he felt. He wanted to purge himself of his confusion,
eradicate the sight of midnight-blue eyes.

Sorting thoughts from emotions, he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. Hope

appeared to be waiting for him to make a move, and suddenly he wondered. Was it really
Sekai turning him inside out?

“Kiss me.” The demand felt like sand coming out of his throat and he coughed

violently, trying to clear it from the air. It refused to do so, clinging stubbornly to the
tangible discomfort.

“You want me … to kiss you?”
He couldn’t blame her for the disbelief in her voice. It was a longstanding rule, one

he used to keep an emotional distance between them. “Do you want to or not?”

She bobbed her head eagerly, keeping a hand pressed against the front of her sheet.

The way she moved close to him immediately put his hackles up. She crept, as if walking
on eggshells, as if approaching a wild animal.

He knew the moment her fingertips brushed his chin. It wasn’t going to work. Frosty

tendrils of anti-heat formed quickly. When she leaned forward he could almost see the
mist from her breath.

The Freeze.
He pushed her away as gently as he could without burning his hands with the intense

cold. “I’ve changed my mind.”

If she had been any other woman, he thought she may have been angry, offended or

hurt. As it was, Hope just adopted her horribly blank look and nodded. He bit his tongue
to keep from shouting at her, to keep himself from telling her how much he hated the
things about her that weren’t like him.

He was backing up when Dr. Selby opened the door. “Oh, Hagan.” Her husky voice

was spiked with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He swung around, coming face to face with the tall brunette. She was everything

Hope was not: statuesque, chiseled and dangerous. Her face reflected the sharp lines of
her intellect and he always felt a little foggy when she looked him in the eyes. If he had
believed in reincarnation, he would swear he knew her in a past life.

“We were just talking. I had a few questions…”
He knew the excuse sounded as lame to her as it did to him. She raised an eyebrow

before shifting her gaze to Hope. “You had to ask questions while she was in her sheet?”

He shrugged, muscling as far away from both of them as possible. The doctor was

blocking the door, eyeing him much like she did when he was in the examination room.
“I stopped by and she happened to be in the shower. There’s nothing to it.”

The doctor laughed. “I’m just giving you a hard time, there’s no need for you to look

quite so uncomfortable. At any rate, she needs to go over some reports with me, and then
it’s time for her to retire. Isn’t that right, Hope?”

The blank expression was gone in an instant, replaced by a giggle. “Of course, Dr.

Selby.”

The voice in his head mewled with untranslatable opinion. He gave a quick nod

before sliding as carefully as he could out of the room.

Chapter Nine

Hagan didn’t remember stumbling back to his own rooms, but the trek cost him. He

was still shaking with fire and ice when he stepped into the dark space.

For several minutes he just focused on breathing. Slouched against the closed doors

of his rooms, he did his best not to pass out. There was no question anymore. No lying to
himself.

He needed Sekai.
Maybe he had always needed him, had explained away other suitors with the freeze.

Even Hope, who he had slowly allowed to touch him, to share his body, he had restricted
from the most intimate forms of sex. He kept her at bay with his rules, while still feeling
he had accomplished something by being with her.

He programmed the kitchenette for dinner in an hour and dragged his feet toward his

bedroom. A quick nap and a shower, and he figured he’d be good as new. The exhaustion
clouding his mind was pretty strong. Still, it wasn’t so thick he didn’t notice his usually
wide-open room was now sectioned off by solid walls.

For several minutes he simply stood before the opening panel, simply preparing for

whatever shock awaited him. He figured he could handle anything at this point, what with
the day he’d had.

“Open bedroom door.” The panel slid to the side with soundless precision. The

minutes of preparation were immediately found to be woefully lacking. His stomach
dropped out toward his feet, leaving him gasping for breath.

“Good evening, Hagan. Or is it morning by now?”
Sekai was settled in the space between his bed and the digital window he usually

kept closed. One leg was tucked casually under his form while a long, graceful arm rested
on the other raised knee. He was naked from the waist up, dressed only in the clinging
white pants he’d been wearing earlier today. He tossed his head playfully, sending blue
hair cascading down his back.

“It’s morning. Early.”
He nodded as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, the movement making

the laser manacles keeping him tethered to the wall glint with agitation. “That’s to be
expected. She said you probably wouldn’t return for a while. Stress makes you weak.”

If Hagan had had the energy to ask him why he was chained up in his room, he might

have done so. As it stood, he moved carefully to the end of his bed and flopped down on
it. “Weak, huh?”

The intense blue gaze tracked him as he moved. He felt everywhere it touched him

without having to see it. “Yes, they think you are weak. That you drown who and what
you are in … distractions.”

It was his turn to stare at him. With the open screen casting orange light through the

room, he looked like a vision. A specter, come to haunt him while he drowned in shame
and confusion. This morning there had been nothing he wanted more than to see Sekai,
and now all he wanted was for him to go away. He fell back against his pillow and
cradled his head in his arms. “What distractions?”

If he thought Sekai couldn’t get any more attractive, he was wrong. The blue-haired

sculpture tilted his head back and inhaled deeply. The lines of his bare chest flexed, and
Hagan struggled to keep his own from rising and falling too rapidly. “The female you
attempted to take tonight. I assume it didn’t go well?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised, having seen so many of the Lige pull the same

trick. They had powerful noses and could use them to “see” what others wouldn’t be able
to garner even with 20/20 vision. He sat up slowly. “Why would you assume that?”

Blue eyes glittered with amusement, which he chose to ignore. “You’re still tense, so

you couldn’t have found much by way of release. Unless … she just wasn’t any good.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if the jealousy he heard in that sing-song voice was genuine

or a product of his hopeful imagination. Still, he laughed, pleased he cared. “What would
you say if I said she was good, hmm? The best I ever had.”

Any laughter his gaze held died instantly. A dark frown creased into Sekai’s face,

showing him more of the steel he perceived under his originally unconscious skin. “I’d
say you were a liar.”

“And how would you know?”
The smile he offered told him two things. One, he had no intention of answering the

question. Two, he had an answer and it was irrefutable. Shaken, Hagan decided he didn’t
want to push him for an answer he might not be able to handle. Shrugging, he changed
the subject. “Before, you said ‘they think you are weak.’ Who did you mean?”

“You’ve got a good memory.”
“Yes. I do. Who?”
Sekai shrugged this time and Hagan was more annoyed by the glint of his restraints

than he was by the nonchalant action. “The Ligers who brought me here. They think you
are weak, simple.”

“Ah. You must mean Persinna and Raimi. Did they say anything when they dropped

you off?”

“Oh yes, they had a few choice words for me, but nothing worth mentioning for

you.”

“I find that difficult to believe, since you just appeared in my room. They would

offer some kind of explanation.”

He paused. “They said … to keep me. You are required to actually agree to this

arrangement. Admiral Schneider herself will be contacting you in a day or two. If you ask
her to, she’ll have me removed back into military custody.”

Something about the way he said it made Hagan uneasy. “Somehow I feel like that

was a threat.”

The sapphire in his eyes sharpened like unforgiving jewels. “I won’t leave your side.

Not in one piece.”

A deliciously wicked thrill skittered through his stomach and he looked away, to

prevent it from being seen and identified. “And what agreement is this? What exactly, is
it I have to say yes to?”

“You will agree to see I am properly trained. You will also see what my primary

purpose was as a manufactured human for Sister.”

“Sister. You said that before. Do you mean one of the Catalysts is your sister?”
He tilted his head to the side, seriously considering his question. “No, your

assessment isn’t exactly true. The provider of the human DNA used to create me is not
Sister, though I do have a sister. She is Sister.”

Hagan pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, unwilling to delve any deeper into

the double “Sisters.” “Then will you tell me the reason you were created.”

“I cannot tell you just yet.”
“Then what can you tell me?”
“You will keep me.”
Hagan blinked, sure he’d heard him incorrectly. There was no mistaking the steel

lacing his voice, and this time he would have had to be blind to miss the hardness hidden
under his smooth complexion. His entire body undulated with raw surety, for a
microsecond splitting the layers of skin that kept him within form. Hagan thought he
caught a glimpse of something shimmery but it was gone too quickly. His lips parted in
awe. “What are you?”

He shrugged and the effect was gone so completely Hagan thought maybe he had

imagined it. “I am the Ouroboros.”

The timer on the kitchenette told Hagan his food was up. He stood and left without

saying a word. The panel was quietly closing behind him before his knees turned to jelly.
He carefully slid against the only wall available, ignoring the beep reminding him the
meal was done.

Sekai was here. He was restrained in his bedroom, asking—demanding—to be kept.

And the way he looked at him. A flash of heat crept up his neck, and he fought down the
urge to rub his cheeks with his fingertips.

No matter what he dreamed, this was a man who had been in a relative coma for ten

months, only to wake and find himself behind enemy lines. He didn’t need him drooling
over him. He probably needed a good meal.

Fueled by the thought, he stood and moved back to the kitchenette. The rehydrated

food was of standard fare. He hadn’t wanted to wait for anything nice to cook, so all he
had prepared was a bowl of steaming beef soba. He frowned at the meal, knowing it was
nothing like the real thing.

In the Colony, they’d grown enough to forgo the synthetic meals on occasion. Here

in the ship there was little of that, and mostly they lived with processed vitamins and
minerals shaped into pleasing forms and flavored accordingly. It wasn’t bad, but there
was something to be said about tasting the Earth in the infrequent meals. It kept them tied
to the lost planet.

He ordered a second bowl of noodles and grabbed a pair of black glass chopsticks

and a bottle of water before returning to the room where his prisoner waited patiently.
Sekai’s eyes tracked over him as if he’d been gone for hours.

Hagan silently cursed himself for having to fight the heat rising to his face for a

second time. “Have you eaten?”

The smile Sekai offered him was much too easy. “Not since I awoke.”
Hovering at the door, holding food while the guy starved to death, seemed … well,

stupid. Hagan hesitated just out of his reach before stepping into the radius of the chains.
It turned out that as long as he was on the bed, Sekai’s hands were held immobile. He
huffed when the fission of control flexed, keeping him still. “Looks like I might need a
little help.”

A hysterically high-pitched laugh bolted through the little room. Surely it hadn’t

come from Hagan.

He could have dropped the bowl and stepped back outside, but he didn’t want to.

Instead, he scooted across the floor on his knees until he was inches away from Sekai.

His voice sounded a little gruff when he made a halfhearted attempt to complain.

“The design on those cuffs seems a little flawed to me. How can I do anything to get you
to trust me, if you’re tied up the entire time?”

“Oh, I won’t be tied up for long. When the admiral speaks to you, if you offer to take

me under your wing completely, they’ll let me out of these.”

This time there was no way for him to hide the feverish hue of his skin. He sank the

sticks into the bowl as he spoke. By the time he was finished with his sentence, he’d
brought them up.

Sekai leaned forward as much as the light bangles would allow him to and parted his

lush lips. Hagan moved closer so he wouldn’t have to strain and held his breath when he
wrapped his glorious mouth around one wiggling noodle. Sapphire depths winked with
knowing guile.

He hiccupped, pulling the sticks from his mouth, unable to ignore the contrasting

colors. Glistening black slipped from raspberry lips and he felt blood rush from his brain
and land somewhere decidedly lower.

It would be the same, his eyes whispered. I’d leave you just as wet.
Gulping, Hagan pulled away carefully. Sekai watched him with such intensity he had

to look away. He had to look anywhere at all as long as it wasn’t at him.

“It’s good.” The Ouroboros whispered it softly, nothing more than a caress against

his already frayed nerves.

Hagan swung around—to confront him, to yell at him, to kiss him—he didn’t know.

Whatever it had been, his intent changed the moment he saw the soft affection in his face.

Sekai smiled, a genuine, pleased expression, and he suddenly felt as if he were in a

dream again. As if he would do anything at all to make him happy. “Only, it’s a little
hot.”

He smoothed out his nerves and moved back into a position to feed him. This time he

brought the sticks up to his own mouth first, blowing on the steaming ends. It wouldn’t
actually help, he knew, but it was an effort and seemed to be enough for him. He ate in
silence, finishing that bowl before reaching for the second one Hagan had made for
himself.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
Hagan’s stomach clenched over the little pout that creased his mouth, thrusting the

bottom lip out enticingly. He shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Again the Ouroboros shrugged, settling in to devour the food with gusto. He watched

him take every bite, his throat and cheeks working beautifully as he sucked down the
noodles and swallowed. He refused both piles of meat, offering them to Hagan instead.

“You probably need the protein more than I do, Sekai.”
He grinned, all sated contentment. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name

tonight.” Hagan growled to cover his embarrassment, and he blew him an infuriating kiss
before continuing. “I don’t eat meat.”

Biting back the first childish response pressed into his tongue, Hagan shoved the soft

artificial beef down his own throat.

Sekai smiled, and he cursed himself for what must have been the hundredth time that

night for having to look away again.

Chapter Ten

Hagan didn’t expect sleep to come at all, never mind swiftly.
Sekai made an unconcerned noise in the back of his throat when he asked if he

would be comfortable sleeping in a sitting position. He tilted his head back against the
still-raised wall he was chained to and closed his eyes; silently telling him what he
intended. He watched him out of the corners of his eyes until the rise and fall of his chest
grew steady.

Quickly stripping off his shirt with a strange thrill of exhibitionism, he climbed into

his too big bed. The lights dimmed on their own after a few minutes but he lay still,
keeping his back to the other man by force of sheer willpower.

The threat of emulsion was nothing to him in that instant. He didn’t care about the

Lige, the military, or the Catalysts. Instead, his entire world was centered on Sekai and
his soft breathing. He closed his eyes, allowing the sound to dance over his prone body.
Slowly, with agonizing stillness, those simple breaths morphed and turned into a
desperate rasp.

“Hagan.”
He smiled into his pillow, enjoying the sleepy weight of his muddled consciousness.
“Please. Hagan.”
He bolted upright, realizing the voice wasn’t from one of the lovely dreams he’d

been having lately. The lights clipped on at his vocal command and he turned to face the
object of his rampant fantasies.

At some point during the sleeping cycle, Sekai had awakened. The digiscreen had

bled blue, signaling the early hour. Hagan had slept for less than six hours, but his brain
snapped to attention without question when a soft moan of discomfort trembled against
his ears.

He rolled to face him and sucked in a hazardous breath. The creamy skin that

stretched over his muscles shuddered with tension. His head had fallen forward, casting a
blue curtain over his beautiful form. The strain was evident in that stunning body sucked
the air from his lungs. Every haggard breath he managed to make, felt as if it had been
ripped from the bottom of Hagan’s stomach.

Sekai was naked, panting and painfully, obviously aroused. “Help me.”
The command-plea shot through Hagan and he gulped. Shaking limbs reached out

and he was powerless to stop the draw of his body. He fell to his knees before him, his
heart thundering an answering cry to his.

Sekai had never fought the chains after they’d been slapped on him. Besides their

first meeting, when he hadn’t known what was going on, he’d given no indication he
minded the various methods of holding him immobile. Now, though, Hagan watched him
work against the invisible lasers that refused to let him budge. They would remain tight,
so long as Hagan stood close to him.

“Are you in pain?”
A ragged laugh dragged out of his battered form. “I am in agony.”
Hagan didn’t realize how deep pain could run until he reached out with a trembling

hand and placed it against his shoulder. He hitched a scattered gust of air into his lungs

and felt his muscles bunch in an effort to get away from the relatively mild contact. He
jerked his hand away as if it were on fire and watched tears race silver tracks down a half
hidden face. “What is hurting you?” Hagan whispered, his own throat choked.

Sekai might as well have punched him in the gut. His sweet water and sunshine scent

bathed his figure as he fought for just enough leverage to lift his head. Sapphire jewels
glittered in his face when he whispered, “You.”

“I’m hurting you?” When he nodded, he continued. “Do you want me to leave? How

am I causing you pain?”

The desperate non-motion he was trapped in caught Hagan unaware for a moment.

He watched him struggle as another wave of pain crashed into his body and took its time
running a sadistic course.

“Don’t leave.”
Shaking with the aftermath of his discomfort, Hagan nodded, resting on his haunches

in front of him. Time ticked by slowly while he sat in confusion, watching him gulp in
fortifying air. His naked form glistened with sweat but Hagan forced himself to keep his
eyes on what of his face he could see. Strands of blue hair stuck and clung to his skin,
darkened by heat and perspiration.

“You don’t know who I am.”
The words came so softly Hagan almost didn’t recognize his voice. The soft, musical

lilt was gone, reminding him of the incident in front of the admirals. He sounded like a
different person, and he could have laughed at his foolishness. No matter what he
dreamed, what he thought he knew, he’d only had one half-conversation with this man.
He didn’t know him at all, how would he know what he should sound like? The old
sarcasm bubbled up before he could stop it. “Not even a little bit.”

Sekai surprised him by laughing, the sound almost impossibly laced with the level of

discomfort he was experiencing. “But you should.”

Hagan sighed, aggravated now by how worried he was about him. “Why the hell,

should I do that?”

“Because you and I were meant to be.”
His stomach bottomed out so fast he was pretty sure he was going to throw up. “You

barely even know me.”

Sekai turned his head slowly, and he saw the effort cost him. By the time he was

focused on him, veins stood out in stark relief on his neck. “I know a great deal about
you, Hagan. I know what you think, what you want, your secret thoughts and desires. I
know more about you than you do.”

He should have left. Sekai was in terrible pain and possibly a little psychotic because

of it. Maybe if he hadn’t moved to see him, he would have been able to. Instead he was
rooted in his spot, pinned by the weight of his gaze. “How do you know any of that?”

He smiled and it was sweet and genuine. “Because I was made for you. Just for you,

Hagan.”

His heart stalled. He knew it was impossible, the chains should have held him

immobile, and he wasn’t able to move with that amount of pain in his body. Still, the
man’s mouth pressed against his, just enough to make him sigh wistfully.

Hagan slid closer to him, enjoying the strength he felt under white skin. Sekai

dragged his mouth along his soft, dark flesh, teasing and nipping. His teeth sank into the
delicate skin there, and he drew back, drawing blood before he was satisfied.

Sekai groaned against his mouth, held still—as still as he always should have been—

by the wristbands. Hagan didn’t know what was happening, not really, but he felt some of
the Ouroboros’s pain bleed away from him and into him. He licked him, tasted him, and
with every caress some of the burden eased.

Hagan ran his tongue over the planes of his hard chest, sinking deeper and deeper

into a haze of lust. Just above his right nipple, a circle shimmered with the crackle of
electricity. Hagan watched with wide, disbelieving eyes as a tattoo with no raise
appeared. It bled with vibrant color, a blue and white illustration of a snake eating his
own tail. It spun before his eyes, lighting white skin with power.

“Touch it. He’s yours…” Sekai whispered the command, pulling the raw words from

the bottom of his stomach.

Hagan reached up slowly, the contrast of his darker skin pleasing him aesthetically.

The mark spun beneath his fingertips, a playful, moving entity all of its own. It watched
him with calm, intelligent eyes before lying back against Sekai’s skin, comfortable with
his touch.

Hagan saw red and smelled water, all the while tasting his musk. His heartbeat

hammered out a desperate message and he slid lower down his body to see if his
responded in kind. When he found the frantic answer of stiffened flesh, a dark thrill raced
up his spine.

Sekai sat still. His bindings made it so he was only able to watch as Hagan continued

to move over him. “More.”

He pushed him with his voice, shivering gratefully when he used the pad of his

tongue against the base of his neck. “Yes.”

Bolts of electricity coated Hagan’s mouth, making him feel as if he were sucking on

a star. He saw flashes of brilliant lights and they warmed him, even as they burned with
mellow fire. Low in his belly he tamed that energy, claiming it as his own and dispersing
it to the cosmos.

Pressing his open mouth against Sekai’s neck, he couldn’t help but close his eyes in

wonder. “You taste even better than you smell.”

The way his voice sounded was strange, but he couldn’t force himself to care with so

much excitement clogging his brain. Sekai’s throat worked up and down as he
swallowed, and he let his eyes drop downward when he bent over to bring a small, flat
nipple into his mouth. Flicking gently, he bathed him with his breath before dragging his
teeth over the taut flesh.

His cock jerked in appreciation. Hagan didn’t know who was panting harder, Sekai

or him. With every taste, he drew more of the delicious power into his body. He nibbled
his way across defined abs before he realized what he was about to do.

He was inches away from Sekai’s dick. His hands were resting at muscular sides,

and he was almost laying flat on the ground in front of him. Shock vibrated through his
body to the man he held intimately. He knew the moment Sekai realized he was pulling
away because he used more of his precious willpower to meet his eyes.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
The way he looked at him turned Hagan’s insides to sticky mush. Suddenly, he

didn’t want to pull away anymore. A deep sense of belonging and safety filled the cavity
in his chest he always ignored. He smiled because even if he didn’t fully trust this man,
he knew there was no icy freeze stopping this. The cold he always feared when facing

intimacy was blessedly absent.

The tightly coiled muscles of Sekai’s legs were screaming with every bit of pain as

the rest of his body. Hagan held his breath and wrapped his hand around the thick length.
The guttural noise the Homunculus made went straight to his own, and he grinned in
appreciation, giving it a quick pump with his fist.

Tight balls jerked in response and he quickly let go, unwilling to let the contact spur

an orgasm before he was ready. Sekai groaned a plea, and this time the desperation in his
voice made him smile.

Leaning over slowly, he brushed the tip of him across his lips. Sekai whimpered

softly, and he rewarded the sound with the edge of his tongue. Salty, musky man flooded
his senses in a way he’d never imagined. He tasted like ecstasy and felt like pure silk. He
slid him deeper into the depths of his mouth, eagerly drawing the head over his tongue.

His hips strained against the invisible barrier, aching to pump, even with the pain

assaulting him. Hagan slid down, his jaw protesting the thick girth even as he tried to
relax. He could only move along a few inches but did his best to mimic Hope while he
took him as deep as he could.

Sekai pushed him harder without moving, murmuring praise and pleas, but Hagan

gagged the moment it touched the back of his throat. He jerked back and the hard length
fell out of his mouth with a wet pop.

The Ouroboros made a strangled noise in the top of his chest while Hagan

hiccupped, clearing his throat so he could try again. Before he was ready, hot ropes of
come hit his chin and chest. He gasped and a line pressed into the corner of his lips,
flooding him with a more direct taste of what he’d been hinting at.

He swallowed without thinking, measuring the sweet taste in his mouth. It was bitter

but pleasing, and he ran his tongue along the seams to pull in more.

“I’m sorry. I should have given you some warning.” Sekai’s skin was painted with a

light pink blush. He kept his eyes averted in embarrassment for several minutes while he
sat there taking in what just happened.

Hagan stood without speaking and went to the bathroom to clean up. Once he was

safely away from him, he leaned against the first object sturdy enough to hold his weight.
Adrenaline thundered through his body, making him tremble violently. None of what had
just occurred made sense to him. He swallowed back a residual thrum of excitement and
pressed a palm against his own throbbing dick.

It came away sticky with pre-come but he couldn’t bring himself to rub away the

mounting ache. A confusing, loud voice in his head told him it was for him to do. For him
to relieve. Another voice replied in the negative, but the harder he worked to focus on the
exact reasons and explanations behind the denial, the harder it was to garner them.

Hagan left the bathroom shaky but clean. The panel leading back to the bedroom slid

open with a welcoming voice. He’d been far enough away from him so Sekai had been
able to readjust his position. He’d moved off his knees to sit with his legs crossed instead.

Hagan noted with some ridiculous amount of disappointment that he had retied his

pants. He’d gotten over his embarrassment at some point within the last couple of
minutes because now he watched him with steady blue eyes.

If Sekai hadn’t said something, Hagan might have continued to stare at him for the

rest of the approaching afternoon. “If you stand here, I’ll … return the favor.” His
stomach did a weird little flip but he didn’t agree. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the

bed, careful to stay far enough away that he would be able to move if he so wished. His
question lodged in his throat, but he pushed it forward. “What is it about us?”

Hagan knew instantly that he knew what he meant. This attraction between them

wasn’t normal—if anything connected to the Lige could be referred to as normal—there
was something pulling it. “O’Connor told me you’d lost some of your memories, is that
true?”

Hagan blinked at the change in subject but nodded. “Do we know each other, then?”
There was a flicker. He couldn’t describe it any better. He looked into his eyes and

saw a flicker that told him the next thing he said wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth
either. “We aren’t acquainted, no.”

He digested the carefully worded answer for a moment before nodding. “But we

know each other.”

“I know you and you know me, yes.”
The way he was saying simple things in a complex way irked Hagan. He shrugged

angrily, unwilling to pry answers from a reluctant source. Somehow he felt strangely
betrayed by his refusal to answer him openly. “I get enough cryptic shit from Nadira,
thanks. If you’re not going to tell me what I need to know, don’t open your mouth.”

Sekai’s ripe lips folded into a thin, displeased line. “I am telling you what you need

to know. You’re simply asking the wrong questions.”

“Right. What the fuck just happened? Why were you in pain and why did I…”
Sekai smiled when his question faded off, unfinished. Hagan had to grit his teeth to

keep from calling him an asshole before he could respond. “The pain is part of my
design. It allows my user to monitor and ensure I will complete any mission given to
me.”

“That sounds barbaric as shit. I don’t remember the Catalysts doing anything so

heinous.”

He felt as if he could always read something in his eyes. Whether it was in the form

of a light or a flicker, there was always something for him to decipher, if he so wanted.
However, the moment the statement left his lips, all content was wiped from his face. A
mask fell over his expression, making him unreadable. “You’d be surprised by the
lengths some beings will go to in order to achieve their goals, Hagan.”

He shifted, uncomfortable with his sudden change. “I doubt it. I’ve known a few

influential people in my life.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, I suppose you have.”
His icy demeanor froze Hagan’s train of thought. He hadn’t missed the double edge

in his words but couldn’t figure what it meant. He decided it would be wise to focus on
something else. “And us? Why did that happen?”

“Because we want one another.”
“I’ve wanted other people. It’s never felt so… possessive before.”
He shrugged and cast him a dreamy smile. “Maybe because you know that between

the two of us, it’s going to be explosive.”

He wondered if it could be so simple. If the depths of what he felt in the moments

Sekai was writhing in pain could be attributed to simple lust. He shuddered again,
remembering his taste in his throat. He doubted that too.

He opened his mouth to ask for a more specific answer, but looked up only to find

Sekai had gone to sleep. He had managed to soundlessly curl into a fetal position on the

floor, facing him. His expression was strangely peaceful, as if even with the
circumstances he’d fallen asleep with perfect trust. Hagan smiled, enjoying his boyish
face for a moment before turning over.

There would be no going back to sleep for him. Not if he wanted to get anything akin

to a real answer. He grinned. “You’re not my only source of information, Ouroboros.”

Chapter Eleven

Nadira agreed to meet him. It was a little discerning not having to ask a soldier to

summon her. She was simply there the moment he stepped into Limbo.

“Good afternoon, Ambassador. I trust you slept well?”
He eyed her carefully, judging the amused light of her expression. “As well as can be

expected. But you know already, don’t you?”

She laughed. “You are much too suspicious. My Sight doesn’t allow me to see as

much as you would expect. Why don’t we have a seat?”

He sighed, eyeing the black glass he’d walked through only moments before. Lining

the walls were now plush seats in various bright colors. The walls that had separated the
various rooms had been knocked down, leaving an open space.

In fact, the section of Limbo the Lige inhabited looked less like a test chamber and

more like a meeting room. A large round table was set up on the far end of the long room.
Dozens of individual tables were set up, covered with books and glowlights. The testing
equipment had been pushed to a corner, available but no longer intimidating.

“What is all of this?” He sank into a plush seat and had to readjust not to be

swallowed up by the cushy material.

Nadira surprised him with an aggravated huff. She used a kitchenette to order a

steaming cup of green tea and poured milk into it. “The military is trying to convince the
Goldmane that the tests can be done without harm or discomfort.”

He shook his head when she offered him something to eat. “They have to convince

her now?”

“Naturally. They don’t know exactly what Sekai is and can do, but they’d have to be

blind to miss the fact that he’s tied to us. They think he’s the Auror.”

Hagan sucked in a surprised breath. “Are they right? Are the others awakening?”
Nadira took another thoughtful sip of her steaming beverage. “More of the sleepers

are showing signs of stirring. There is a kind of energy moving within those of us who
are already awake. Something we’ve never felt before.”

She set the cup down and took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering lightly. He watched

with rapt fascination as the color bled from her eyes. It was subtle, the difference. He’d
seen the Oracle appear a handful of times.

In each of those times, the iris of her eyes just vanished. The pupil was swallowed up

as she sank into vision and the sight took over. This time, though … Nadira seemed to
hold onto something in her head. The irises vanished, but slower this time. It was still
quick as a flash of lightning, but this time he saw the echo of light seep from the sky.

The thunder voice sent chills up his spine. “It’s close. We’ll be able to fight.”
“What’s close? What needs to happen before you can fight?”
The Oracle looked at him with those sightless eyes. He shuddered when she leaned

over. Her hands were so small but shook with more power than her tiny frame should
have been able to hold. “I don’t know.”

Violet popped back into her vision with a violent jerk. He leaned back against the

plush chair while she caught her breath. When she finally smiled, it was one of the rare
instances that her face reflected her younger age. “Pretty cool, huh? It takes a lot more

energy than before, but I can see much more than I could even yesterday.”

He returned her smile. “What did you see this time?”
Her shoulders lifted up to her ears. “I didn’t see anything. It’s too clouded, too

unsure. My abilities aren’t as strong as I would like.”

“I have to go, then.”
Nadira nodded. “You have to meet with O’Connor before you go back to the

Ouroboros, don’t you?”

He shrugged, trying to hide the discomfort caused by her knowing without him

telling her. “Yeah. I’m told the admiral has a thing about punctuality, so I can’t afford to
be late. She’ll send her goonies after me.”

Laughter lit her violet eyes up. She touched a hand to his shoulder. “You’re a good

man, Hagan. You don’t have to be so fearful.”

He left the room before he was forced to examine the burning in his throat. A

knowing observer stood on the other side of the screens, refusing to look him in the eyes
as he shuffled by. The doors of Limbo seemed to shut with a louder echo.

Making his way back to the admiral’s chamber seemed like an impossibly long trek.

Despite his understandable fear of being tardy, he took his time, passing through several
stations on the way. He’d just left the gym when Hope crashed into him.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you.” She grabbed his hand and, ignoring his

protests, dragged him to a darkened corner for privacy. Her chest pressed against his
suggestively, but he turned his head away. Ice immediately slammed up his spine.

He captured her wrists in his larger hands, dreading even the slight contact. “Sorry

about that, I’ve been busy most of the day.”

She shrugged, throwing her wildflower scent around under his nose. He sneezed,

feeling his brain go a little fuzzy at the scent. “I don’t mind, I just wanted you to know
that the doc wasn’t angry or anything. No one is going to get into any trouble for you
being in my room so late. Actually, she told me to tell you to forget all about it.”

He shook his head, clearing it off the muddying effect she had on him. “That’s good.

I wouldn’t want you to be punished.”

She laughed, ignoring his hold to press against him again. He could barely keep from

throwing her backward when she went up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his neck. It
felt like she was grinding ice cubes into his flesh. A low hiss escaped his lips, and he had
no doubt she thought it was a pleased sound.

He tried to stand still, but when she turned her face against his jaw the cold turned

into a chilling, piercing pain. He gasped, forcefully disconnecting her from his body. He
might as well have slapped her, for her reaction. He was standing at least three feet away
from her, staring at huge wet eyes.

“What’s going on with you, Hagan? This is the second time in a row you’ve…” She

rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she was feeling the chill that had settled into
the pit of his stomach. “Is there something wrong?”

A puff of vapor filled the air under his nose when he released the breath he didn’t

realize he was holding. The lack of heat in his soul was bleeding out of him and thinning
the air around his shivering body. He closed his eyes, trying to center the bizarre
phenomenon and bury it. The freeze was getting worse, almost painful.

He swallowed, unable to ignore the fact that this pain was different to the exquisite

torture he’d been yearning for since he’d left Sekai’s side. It was becoming harder and

harder for him to ignore his attraction to Sekai. Even the thought of his name warmed
him so much the discomfort lessened. He swallowed, sure this wasn’t a good
development in the already deepening pool of his confusion.

“Is it … because of the man with blue hair? The one you’re going to meet O’Connor

about now?”

That snapped him out of the rapidly forming ice block. “How do you know about

him, Hope?”

She flinched at his tone, which was much harsher than he meant for it to be. He

immediately tried to soften the blow with a smile, but could tell it hadn’t exactly helped.
Her voice quavered when she answered. “Dr. Selby was called in to do the initial tests on
Sekai after his explosion yesterday afternoon. Not to mention we were called to pick up
the pieces of the guards he took out.”

He made a conscious effort to smooth down his hackles after hearing his lover’s

name on her lips. He nodded. “So, you met him.”

“Well, not so much. He was knocked out for most of the time I was in the room with

him. Afterwards, I spent most of my time tending to the injured. Dr. Selby was ordered to
see to him personally, so none of us underlings were allowed to do much more than catch
glimpses.”

Hagan’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. Suddenly he was uneasy about the entire

conversation, but he had no idea what was making him so nervous. He shrugged, more
for show than anything. “Well, she did a fantastic job as usual. Sekai was in top condition
last time I saw him.”

Hope’s expression smoothed over to blandness for half a second before she nodded

sharply. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Hagan arched an eyebrow in honest surprise before the blush kicked in. Hope was

rarely a shrewd woman, but she had these moments of clarity that should have worried
him. “Are you jealous?”

The angry thrust of her shoulders couldn’t have been misconstrued as a shrug. Her

bottom lip stuck out further than the tip of her nose and she gave a little snort. “I’m not
jealous, I just finally get it. You can’t be bothered with me because he’s already taking
care of your needs.”

“You’re one to talk. Weren’t you the one who told me we weren’t exclusive when

you were chasing after that new recruit?”

She had the grace to blush. “The way I see it, I kept you both well satisfied. No room

for complaints.”

He pushed past her with no intention of answering. He’d never minded the situation

with Hope. In fact, he had been glad when they’d laid down the line. She’d made it clear
she wasn’t expecting anything more than a good time, and that was all he had to offer.

But adding Sekai to the equation turned his stomach. Something about the thought of

using him the same way made him sick. Like he deserved better, and Hagan wanted to
give it to him. He stopped dead in his tracks, annoyed at the finality of that thought. He
hadn’t realized Hope had followed him until she collided with his back. “You’re still
here?”

“You don’t have to snap at me!” she snarled, rubbing her nose. “I asked you where

you’re headed to now. This isn’t the right way to the captain’s office.”

He pressed his palm to the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m not going to see

O’Connor. It won’t be necessary since I’m not keeping him.”

He’d continued walking by time she’d caught up. “You’re not keeping him?”
Her voice sounded choked with the possibility. He couldn’t tell if she was excited

about losing her competition or horrified that he was just going to get rid of him. “No.”

The little gasp echoing in his head after she stopped walking should have pleased

him. Instead, it made his heart heavy with doubt. The moment he said it, he could have
thrown up. “I’m not keeping him.”

Alone now, he decided to head to the mess hall before he went to talk to Sekai. He

should have gone straight to tell him of his decision, but cowardice and something else
held him back. He attempted to choke down a sawdust meal, but ultimately he sat staring
at a timepiece, hating himself for his own weaknesses.

His entire life he had wanted someplace to feel at ease—a place to belong. That is

exactly what he found when he was near Sekai. Knowing this didn’t make him feel any
less anxious, though. He felt as if there was something pushing him toward the blue-
haired man, pulling him in an unfightable wave to his arms. How could he know it was
him Hagan wanted, and not some man he’d invented in his dreams?

Shaking his head free of conflicting ideas, he stood up. The best thing he could do

for both of them would be for him to let him go to someone else. The Lige would look
after Sekai, and he would still be able to visit him, if that was what he wanted. There was
no reason for him to be the one to keep him. The Ouroboros would just have to
understand.

If only Hagan could understand it himself.
His quarters were dark when he slid the panel open some minutes later. He

straightened his shoulders with determination, his choice made. He wasn’t going to keep
Sekai around. The vicious butterflies beating in his stomach over the anticipation of
seeing him again were enough confirmation. He couldn’t allow himself to be sucked in
by him.

Sekai stood in his kitchenette, dressed as he’d left him. The white material of his

pants hung low on his hips and his chest was bare. He cast him a smile that had those
butterflies doing jumping jacks. “Welcome back.”

Hagan flushed with what he hoped looked like anger instead of arousal. “What the

hell are you doing?”

“Making lunch. I couldn’t wait around all day.” The amusement in his accursedly

beautiful eyes made Hagan grind his teeth.

“How did you get out of your restraints?”
He shrugged, going back to pouring what looked like a tall glass of artificial pink

lemonade. “I shorted them out. It’s not hard to do when you can manipulate energy like I
can.”

The grinding intensified as he watched him chug the glass and order another. “So

you could have gotten out at any point?”

“Sure could have. But then I wouldn’t have gotten to share the room with you. You

probably would have made me sleep out on the couch or something.”

“Damn right I would have made you sleep out on the couch.” Hagan snapped his

answer, though it sounded false in his head. If Sekai had slept out on the couch, he
wouldn’t have gotten his taste of him. Hagan shook his head viciously, but not before he
caught his gaze wandering downward. “If you could get out at any time, why didn’t you

escape and be gone?”

The kitchenette spat out a monstrous bowl of macaroni and cheese as well as a

tofudog before he answered. He stood stupidly, watching the hunk gather his meal before
he turned back to him. “Why would I do that?”

It took him a minute to realize the tiny little table was set for two. Sekai situated

himself across from the chair closest to him, and indicated toward the steaming cup of
coffee meant for him. He cursed under his breath when he realized Sekai had also ordered
him a toasted bagel, smothered with crunchy peanut butter and topped with sliced
bananas.

“It’s your favorite, isn’t it? I thought you might be stopping by earlier than expected,

so maybe you’d like a bite to eat.”

Hagan bit his lip to keep from showing how the thoughtful gesture touched him.

Creepy as it was for another person to know what he liked to eat without him having to
tell them, he liked the thought of someone caring enough to want to take care of him.

Giving himself a mental shake, Hagan sat down. He couldn’t get used to it. He was

going to have the military place him elsewhere in less than an hour. Still … what harm
would it do to enjoy it for a little while before then?

He waited for him to begin eating before he took his first bite. Watching Sekai eat

was a treat in itself. He tried not to laugh when he shoveled the fifth spoonful into his
mouth. “Are you planning to chew or are you afraid someone will come and try to steal
it?”

He shrugged sheepishly, swallowing the mass before taking a more suitable bite.

“I’m always hungry lately. I’m pretty sure my body is making up for the months I spent
sleeping.”

He laughed but stopped mid-bite. “That’s right; you’ve been asleep for a long time.”
“Yeah, I guess. Those first couple of days, I was afraid to close my eyes. Afraid I

would go right back to sleep if I did.”

Suddenly the food in front of Hagan was unappealing. It wasn’t like him to ask

questions. For the most part, he just didn’t care what other people thought or felt. This
time, he had something he wanted to know. “What was it like? Being out for so long, I
mean.”

Between the mountains of macaroni he shoved down his throat he shrugged. “It

wasn’t so bad. I couldn’t hear anyone around me or anything like that. For the most part,
it was just a series of dreams strung together.”

He shifted slightly in his chair, reaching for the coffee. It was just the way he liked it,

milk and light sugar. He envied the easy way he spoke about something so heavy. He
envied him enough to want to know more. “You dreamed?”

Sekai smiled knowingly. “Do you want to know about my dreams, then?”
Hagan snorted, pushing the last bite of bagel past his teeth. “Fuck you, man.”
He got up to leave, but Sekai grabbed his wrist. Almost immediately, bolts of tiny

electricity raced through his bloodstream. He gasped and groaned, though he didn’t know
whether with pain or pleasure. He tried to jerk away, but Sekai leveled that sparkling
gaze on his. “I dreamed of you.”

Protests dried in his throat. Sekai slowly loosened his hold and sat back down, but it

didn’t matter. The Ouroboros still burned him with his touch. He didn’t move for several
seconds, just trying to catch his breath. This was exactly why he couldn’t keep him.

Whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t normal. Nothing was this intense,
nothing good. It would only lead to him getting hurt.

“I’m telling the admiral I can’t do what she’s asking.” He forced the words out, even

though it felt like he was talking with a mouthful of sand in his throat. “You can’t stay
here.” He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t what he got.

Sekai laughed. It was a sweet trilling sound that filled the room and his head. He

laughed until tears sparkled in his eyes and he bent over his now empty bowl.

The contagious music of his mirth flooded Hagan’s body until it hit his heart and

expanded. He palmed the back of his neck, grinning like an idiot over something so
serious. “I’m not kidding around here, Sekai. You can’t stay.”

He hiccupped with laughter, resting his forehead against the table in an attempt to get

himself under control. It took several more minutes, and by the time he was done Hagan
was laughing as well. They took a collective breath and shared a conspirator’s smirk
before he spoke. “You won’t be able to let me go.”

“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Because I won’t let you.”
He shook his head, feeling strangely lighter than he had in a while. The burden of not

knowing what to do was lifted from his shoulders. “I guess that’s it, then.”

“Yup.”
The door chimed, signaling a visitor before he could respond. He held up a finger.

“Hold that thought.”

He nodded smartly and leaned back against his chair, clearly indicating he wasn’t

going anywhere. Hagan was still laughing when he pressed the release for the front door.
An empty hallway greeted him with a sort of eerie silence that immediately dried up his
amusement. “Hello?”

No answer.
He shrugged, trying to ignore the chill that ran up his back as he stepped back inside

and closed it. The cold reminded him of what happened when he was close to Hope only
minutes before. It reminded him of the danger of allowing himself to be swept away by
Sekai. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by those sapphire eyes, the beckoning spans
of his skin, or his sweet water smell.

He dragged a deep breath into his lungs, hoping to get a taste of him before opening

the panel to his bedroom where he could hear Sekai moving around. The scent of
wildflowers stung his nose and made his eyes water.

The blow came out of nowhere. He felt something slam into the back of his head

with enough force to make him see stars. At the same time, a mist of orange gas escaped
the shattered container that connected with his skull.

Propelled by the motion, he hit the ground hard, pain choking the wind from his

lungs. He moved out of the way of a second blow on pure instinct. A bottle of glittering
black glass connected with the floor where his head had been, a second cloud of colored
vapor hitting the air.

“Stay still, Hagan. It will hurt less this way.” Hope’s voice lacked any kind of

inflection when she called out to him. “There’s no way out and I’ve disabled all
communications to this room.”

He tried to track her with his eyes, but the dimly lit welcoming room seemed to fade

from his vision. He was left in a dark, blind world of shapes and smears. His path out of

the room was blocked by a form that he thought might have been Hope.

He scooted back toward the door when the form moved forward. With his blurred,

useless vision, he could just make out a vial of viscous liquid. He kicked out at the hand
holding it and didn’t wait for the scream to die down before he was moving.

Hope screeched painfully, throwing the vial in his direction. The glass cut his

shoulder just as he managed to close the door. Shock registered as the stinging cut locked
up, along with the rest of his arm. The deadening of his limb was pure agony. He didn’t
want to think about what he would be feeling if Hope had managed to hit him with the
entire vial.

His mind worked sluggishly trying to come up with a plan of action. The apartments

were soundproof and there was no way for him to call for help. The only thought he had
was pounding in his skull: he had to get to Sekai. The jerky movements he was managing
weren’t amounting to a lot of distance and even though the apartment was small, every
inch felt like a mile. Seconds stretched out into eons where he had enough clarity to
single out one thought. Sekai.

He didn’t make it far. Dizziness from the initial blow to the head intensified a

thousand fold and he collapsed into a graceless slump. The screaming behind him cut off
abruptly and he lay against the ground, able to hear everything but frozen solid. When
footsteps sounded behind his back, he fought helplessly against the medicated hold.

Sekai hauled him up to his chest and ran a quick hand over his body, all the while,

his eyes tracking the small apartment. Hagan tried to tell him what was happening, but
after his assessment he stood, taking him with him.

He backed into the tiny bedroom, the only door with a lock, and dumped him onto

the bed without a word. He secured the door without looking back, his entire demeanor
changed from the playful, teasing man who had made him lunch. Now he looked like he
had before the admirals had given him to him. He looked otherworldly. Dangerous.

After five minutes of Hagan counting his dancing heartbeat, Sekai finally returned.

Every second he’d been gone he’d sweated and worried, so he wasn’t the best of
company. Luckily, for him, he couldn’t move or speak, so Sekai was spared most of his
displeasure.

He dragged a large hand through his blue hair before pressing one to Hagan’s chest.

Immediately there was a flash of intense pain hammering through his core. It bled away
into pleasure after a moment and his limbs let loose a physical sigh of release as they
were given their mobility back. Pins and needles pricked his skin but he didn’t mind the
discomfort.

He slowly pushed his way to a sitting position while he watched him with careful

eyes. When he could finally move without hissing, Sekai spoke, his voice a stripped, dead
tone Hagan hated to hear. “Tell me.”

He rolled his shoulders once more. “I don’t know what happened. I thought…”
He trailed off and Sekai’s hands shot out in barely contained violence. He trembled

as he ran his palms over his form again and Hagan refused to examine the emotion
bubbling up in his chest while he sat through his pained examination. “Tell me, damn it!”

Sekai finished his search, satisfied there were no serious wounds. He took a

fortifying breath and threaded his fingers in his hair, careful to miss the tender spot where
he’d gotten hit.

A quick jerk had his neck bared to him, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering

closed. He flashed back to the day Raimi had done the same thing, but even the memory
couldn’t stir up the same kind of icy cold. Instead he wanted nothing more than for Sekai
to touch him the same way, to erase the previous actions and replace them with his own.

“Hope attacked me. Only … she would never do something like that. It was weird,

the whole thing was off.”

Sekai turned his head and examined the lump that had formed at the base of his neck.

It stung, but not nearly as much as he thought it should. “Hope. Is she the woman you’re
sleeping with?” He jerked in surprise, but the Homunculus kept him from going
anywhere, running careful fingers over his back. “Don’t move. And yes, I know you’re
sleeping with someone else. Well, sleeping with her as much as you can, considering
you’re mine. The sooner you accept this, the better. I can’t protect you if you’re going to
be foolish, Hagan.”

His nonchalant tone bewildered him. “What do you mean?”
“I told you. You belong to me, and I you. It’s been like that since before you were

born. Anyone else you’ve been with is of no consequence. You could never really be
with them.”

Hagan’s response wouldn’t have been flattering, but it never got a chance. Hope

appeared out of thin air right behind Sekai’s back and viciously smashed a glittering
bottle of yellow powder over his head.

Hagan saw it in slow motion and couldn’t stop her. Sekai took a breath in shock

before his eyes rolled up in his head. He slumped over, and she snarled at his prone form.

“Hope!” He gasped as some of the powder entered his lungs as well.
This time when she spoke, her voice wavered with emotion, the complete opposite of

the way it had sounded before. “Don’t worry, Hay. We won’t hurt you.”

The sluggish thud of his heartbeat drowned out everything but soft footsteps as they

moved behind him. He struggled to remain conscious but mind-numbing sleepiness was
coating him in an impenetrable cast. “Who … are you?”

Hope shook her hair, forcing her brunette ponytail to snap to and fro. He watched it

like a magician’s coin, having to force his muddled mind to focus. “I’m exactly who I say
I am. You should be asking me what I am.”

He tried to form the question but his body was too heavy. He slumped to the side and

watched as the black spots in his vision began to take over. He was just going out when
Hope’s mouth pressed against his.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll use his pass to take the Lige Ecocraft and meet you as planned. I

am sorry for the delay.”

Chapter Twelve

Hagan woke up with a start and immediately wished he hadn’t. His head pounded in

abject protest when he tried to pry his eyes open.

“Take it easy, don’t force yourself.”
Sekai’s sweet voice and scent swept over him and warmed his heavy limbs that were

pressed against some kind of straw cot. He sat up slowly, dizziness threatening to knock
him back down.

“If you’re going to throw up, there’s a bucket in the corner.”
He fought the urge to take him up on his advice and slowly opened his eyes. He was

the first thing he saw and he wasn’t pleased. First of all, there was a wall of bars
separating them. He was standing at the edge of his own cell, his forehead pressed against
the barrier between them.

He’d used a piece of hair to tie the rest into a ponytail. He was scuffed and bruised

and there was a nasty cut on his left temple. Dried blood stained his chest and a streak of
it ran through his white pants.

“What happened to you?” Hagan gasped.
He shrugged his shoulders painfully and grinned. “They don’t seem to like me much.

No one has said why.”

With his stomach finally settling, Hagan shifted his position so he could get his

bearings. Sekai and he were in a warehouse of some sort. The ground was pounded
cement while the walls were comprised of some sleek, shiny surface. There were no
windows but the ceiling was one big skylight. They were pressed against one wall, their
cages making up only a tenth of the space the warehouse had to offer.

The rest of the room was filled with dozens of instruments he couldn’t readily place.

Even without knowing what they were, he shivered. It looked like a laboratory and all of
the bubbling and swirling colors spoke of ominous things. “Where are we?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re back on the platforms. The sun cycle isn’t as regular as the

artificial light we get on the Nautilus.”

Hagan shivered apprehensively. Hope had kidnapped them and brought them to one

of the Forgotten Colonies, but why? Almost as if she’d heard his thoughts, she appeared
of out thin air directly in front of his cage. The blank expression on her face was back and
she muttered, “He is awake,” without looking at him.

“Hope, what—”
The door on the other end of the room opened and half a dozen beautiful men poured

into the space. Each of them was thickly muscled with square jaws and neon-green eyes,
but they all had the same face. Either they were an impressive set of sextuplets or they
were genetically altered, something that shouldn’t have been possible.

Hope turned to face them, and he sucked in a breath. Dr. Selby stepped into the room

after the men, her glasses glinting in the sunlight. “Good job, Hope. You did just as I
instructed. You are released.”

Hope deflated instantly, like the strings being cut off a puppet. She blinked her

overlarge eyes and looked around before catching his. “Hagan…”

Her pained whisper was cut off when Dr. Selby lifted her hand in the air. The men

rushed forward without having to be told what to do and popped Sekai’s cage open with
more force than technology. Hagan watched, stunned as they circled him, their eyes flat
and dead just as Hope’s had been.

The doctor shrugged lightly when they began to attack, and he watched in horror as

they swarmed the outnumbered man. “You should appreciate the Adamdrones, Sekai.
They’re perfect. They follow orders without question, never need to sleep or eat, and they
exhibit many of the strengths of the Lige, without the weaknesses.”

Sekai shifted easily on the balls of his feet, dodging the initial attacks with ease. His

long legs flung outward and he brought one man low before anyone could react. A
second attack sent another flying against the wall separating the cages, but that was all
the damage he could do before the others were on him.

Sickening crunches filled the air as Sekai spun, connecting his fist to unsuspecting

noses. Blood spurted into the air in angry slices and he winced every time a blow landed
against him. One of the drones grabbed him from behind, winding his ponytail around a
beefy fist.

“Stop!” Hagan screamed at the man who was holding him so the others could punch

and kick him. Another beefy hand shot out, pinning him until he couldn’t even struggle
while they worked him over.

The whole scene lasted less than a minute, but by time it was over Hagan was sick

and shaking. Sekai was released and slumped on the ground in a mess of blood and
broken skin. He tried to close the distance between them, but Selby tsked with
displeasure. One of the monstrous men turned back to the beaten pulp and kicked him
viciously in the midsection.

“Don’t move any closer to him, Hagan. Honestly, the only reason he’s still alive is

because I want him to watch.” The venom in her voice forced his eyes back to where she
stood. What little air that was getting to his lungs threaded thinner, for her eyes were
bright with savage satisfaction. She ran her tongue over a plump lip and watched Sekai
struggle to his knees.

He knuckled a trickle of blood from his nose. “So, I take it you don’t like me very

much.”

Selby laughed, taking her time as she got closer to the cells. It seemed as if every

fiber of her being was exuding a disgusting sense of happiness as she took in the bruises
and cuts. “You’re the reason we’re in this little mess. If it hadn’t been for you, Yesha
would have stuck to the plan.”

Hagan heart twisted at the mention of his mother’s name. “What? You kidnapped us

because of something to do with my mother?”

Selby turned to him as if seeing him for the first time. The satisfaction in her face

deepened until it looked like lust and greed, all mingled into one disturbing package. She
smiled and it was like a blow to his senses. “Your mother,” she rasped, forming
quotations in the air with her fingers. “She is the reason you’ve felt so alone all these
years, Hagan. You should be happy she’s gone.”

He lunged forward but the drug was still evident in his system. The moment he

moved, his compromised balance caused him to weave. He shook his head, trying to clear
it, but was forced down to his knees in front of the cot. “You had something to do with
my mother’s death?”

Selby shrugged. “If I had, it would have been what she deserved. She was the one

who blew up the compound. Years of research and planning wasted in an instant, all
because of the man you’ve chosen as your Ouroboros.”

Hagan stared dumbly as Hope stepped forward, tugging down the shoulder of her

shirt. A quick spin bared her back, giving him a good view of the creamy span he was
used to. Only, when Dr. Selby pressed her own palm against that square of flesh, she
revealed a tiny spinning snake. It was the same mark Sekai had.

“Any one of us can be your Ouroboros. It doesn’t have to be him.”
He stared dumbly when she moved forward and opened his cage. Sekai and he were

surrounded by muscle that could rip them to pieces in an instant. Their only shot out of
this was for Hagan to give them whatever they wanted.

He gritted his teeth, ignoring the burn in his body demanding he do something to

avenge his mother. He remembered her as a warm and understanding person. Whatever
she had done, he knew it was for the best, for the safety and wellbeing of others. Selby
had already exhibited a disregard for life. “What do you want?”

She smiled and waved a hand toward Hope, who stepped shyly into the cage. “It’s

simple, really. I want you to bond with Hope here instead of him.”

She waved a careless hand toward Sekai, turning his attention back to him. He had

managed to half stand with his injuries. The damage was worse than he thought. His
powerful arms strained to hold up his weight while he clung to the bars. His eyes were
level on him, even and intense.

Something beat in the air between them, something deeper than anything he’d

already felt with him. He shuddered as the world threatened to vanish from around them.
He tossed him the same cocky grin that turned his insides into mush every time.

Selby signaled to one of the men still in his cell, and Sekai was hit from behind, his

face slamming against the metal. Hagan lunged forward without thought, but didn’t make
it far before he was caught from behind. “Now, now. I can’t afford to hurt you. But he is
expendable. Do as I say.”

Sekai spat on the ground in his cell, standing straight. He didn’t say a word, but

Hagan heard what he meant without sound. The Ouroboros would die before he let them
touch him. Hagan watched his body slide into attack position and remembered the
damage he’d done to the guards before. Maybe he could fight them off, but in his current
state it would cost him.

He shook his head, knowing he would ignore the plea for him to stop.
Desperate to stop what he knew would be a beating, he turned to Selby. “I don’t

know what you’re talking about. I haven’t bonded with anyone, and even if I did, I
wouldn’t know how.”

Selby eyed him, assessing. “They said you’d lost your memory, but I didn’t believe

it.” She circled him and Hagan flinched, unsure of what he wanted her to see. “All right,
I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Her hand rose again, and this time he held his breath, afraid to see what Sekai would

do if they tried to attack him again. Instead, all but one of the men stepped out of the cage
and went back toward the door. Selby followed them after a moment, leaving only the
single guard and Hope behind. “I will give you two hours. That should be sufficient time
for Hope to explain the dire circumstances to you. I want you bound.”

The door shut with resonating finality. He looked to Sekai, ignoring the others in the

room for several minutes. “Are you okay?”

He rolled his shoulders, a dark frown painting his face. “Why did you do that? Are

you willing to do as she asked?”

He took a step closer to him but the guard behind him immediately growled in

warning. He stood still and opened his palms. “Are you stupid? Were you really going to
try fighting them? You’re barely standing, how could you expect to make it out of
something such a situation in one piece?”

He would have sworn there was a glimmer of hurt in his expression. “You don’t

understand what is happening here. If you believed…”

“Of course I don’t fucking understand! No one is bothering to explain a damn thing

to me. Instead I’m drugged and kidnapped by someone I’m supposed to trust.”

He jumped when Hope put a hand on his shoulder. Ice spread under his skin but he

did his best not to shake her off. “I’m sorry, I had no choice.”

Sekai scoffed. “Like hell you didn’t have a choice.”
“Not everyone can be you, the almighty First.” Hope snapped with enough venom to

remind him of Dr. Selby. “We can’t all fight the compulsion.”

Weak lightning crackled in the air. When he responded, his voice boomed with the

power of thunder. “Did you even try?”

He cried out when the guard hit him again, sending him to the ground this time. The

blow split his head in the back, and another thick stream of blood began to make its way
down his neck. Sekai shook his head like a big dog, refusing to black out. His sapphire
eyes sparkled with menace and he watched Hope with dark promises.

She shivered and signaled the guard, who immediately pressed his fingers to the

back of Sekai’s neck. This time when he hit the ground he knew he was unconscious.

He swung on Hope. “Why?”
“Because I can’t have him interfering with what has to happen here. You haven’t

chosen him, but he’s got power all on his own. We can’t afford for him to make this
situation any worse than it already is.”

He struggled to keep his thoughts in order with so much going on. “You called him

the “First.” What did you mean?”

Hope huffed, upsetting the line of her bangs. “You know a great deal about the Lige,

yes?”

He nodded slowly. “They’re a race of beings the Catalysts engineered to combat the

Nihil.”

“Yes, the Catalysts began experimentation on the local population in order to build

the perfect weapon against the Nihil. Only, there were several problems with this
endeavor. First, there were a limited number of subjects willing to undergo the process in
its experimental stages. The Catalysts were running out of subjects at an alarming rate, so
they turned to the surrounding civilizations to supplement their numbers. Ultimately, the
group was divided into those who wanted to use animal supplements and those who
wished to conduct their experiments using natural, nonfunctioning elements.”

He glanced over his shoulder to where Sekai was lying on the ground. The guard was

watching him with a lustful intensity that made him nervous. “Nonfunctioning
elements?”

Hope shifted slightly so his view of Sekai was obstructed. “I mean, they wanted to

use vegetative and emotive energies in their work. The subjects were cloned and infused
with the essence of plant and elemental energies.”

“And the other group of Catalysts?”
“They used the genetic material of the surviving animal life forms, forming the Lige

as you know it now.”

He absorbed this new bit of knowledge with a tilt of his head. He had no idea there

were more Lige out there, never mind ones who were made through a different process.

“You said the lack of subjects was just one of the problems?”
“Yes. Both groups found there were difficulties to their chosen process. Those who

wanted to use vegetative energy found their creations were more successful in mental
abilities. They developed nonphysical strengths, but this stunted their growth. It limited
their use, and after they’ve reached a certain year of life, they cannot be preserved
without a steady diet of Light energy. Because of this, they are unable to function during
the night. In addition, their enhanced use of their brains also opens them up to corrosion
of that organ. Mental barriers would fail and they would be subjected to intense psychic
pain. They succumb to madness and/or psychopathy quickly.”

Sekai groaned, and his attention was lost for a moment. Hope continued, loud

enough for him to drag himself back to her explanation. “On the other hand, those with
animalistic energies developed a need for constant physical renewal. This usually
presented itself as sexual intercourse or fighting. They needed absurd amounts of Light
energy to function and were in constant danger of blood erosion. Their bodies would
simply cease to function without this energy and would eventually fall apart after
extended deprivation. As it were, they were also subjected to a level of insane physical
pain.”

The information she was giving him felt old and familiar, even though he couldn’t

quite remember it. He forced himself to focus on what she was saying. “They both
needed Light energy.”

“Yes!” Hope clapped her hands together and smiled. “And as you know, it is not

something that is easy to find. It comes straight from the sun, but thanks to the damage
done to the planet, what we get is largely diluted. Most of the original experiments died
quickly and painfully before anything could be done. There was no way for the Catalysts
to harness this particular form of energy.”

“What about the WMF?”
Hope shrugged. “The Catalysts didn’t trust the military enough to ask at the time.

Still, now that Dr. Selby has infiltrated, we know they cannot harness it either. Besides,
by then, the problem had been rectified.”

“Rectified how?”
Hope’s gaze settled on him, sending chills down his back. “Children were found

during an expedition by one of the Catalysts. A young woman named Yesha.”

Hagan’s stomach turned sickly and he immediately reached up to press his hand to

the burn on his chest. “You mean me. I was one of those children.”

“Yes. You and Sekai.”
A pained mewl escaped his throat, and he sank to the ground. It was too much

information, too quickly. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to know what had
happened to those children. Hope ignored his noise of distress and continued. “There
were more, all in sets of two. No one knew where you’d come from or what you were
about, but it quickly became apparent you were the answers to the conundrum plaguing
the Catalysts.”

His stomach heaved and he rushed to the bucket Sekai had pointed out before. He

emptied the meager contents of his stomach before turning back to Hope. “You mean we
could make Light.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with regret. “It took both of you, a set to do it, but

that’s not all. You didn’t just create the necessary Light, you also took away the pain the
others suffered from. It was the perfect fit, you made the weapons function beautifully,
filling them with even more power than they had before.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “This is a fantastic story and all, but where do you fit in?”

Pausing, he gave a cursory sniff and immediately his head swam with the smell of
wildflowers. But no, there was something else. “Selby said you were an Ouroboros, like
him. But there’s something off about you, something that doesn’t fit.”

Again, her ponytail bobbed annoyingly when she spoke. “Some of the others … the

experiments were conducted before we realized it took two of you, and the tests
themselves weren’t always monitored well. Some of the Ouroboros and Aurorae died.
The Catalysts were forced to attempt to duplicate the bonding process. It is sometimes
successful, but hinges on whether or not the remaining partner accepts the substitute.”
She moved closer to him, pressing both of her hands to his chest. He shivered with
displeasure, though he was not sure that’s what she thought it was. His skin crawled
when she pressed her body against his again. “I can make you happy.”

His hands trembled when he reached up to push her away. Disinterest was a living,

breathing organism in his body, begging him to get as far away from her as possible. She
wasn’t who he was supposed to be with. Her touch, her smell, everything about her was
wrong.

She wound her hands around his neck, and told him to let her do everything. He

stood, frozen in disgust when her lips touched his. Pain like nothing he’d ever felt before
slammed into his body. He cried out, falling to the ground with a crash.

Hope was there immediately, pressing her hands to his trembling form. He clenched

his teeth, afraid the agony humming in his head would shatter them if he didn’t hold on
tight.

“Let me in, Hay. Don’t fight me and I can siphon off your pain. I can give it to you

gradually so you can handle it easier.”

He tried to scoot away from her; her touch was burning him with cold. His vision

blurred for the second time that day and his heart pounded in his ears. He shouted a
mantra in the storm of pain, willing his eardrums not to blow under the onslaught of the
thunder in his body. He reached out, screamed with no voice. Sekai. Sekai.

The Light came out of everywhere. It burned away his conscious thought, opened

him up and sucked out the thoughts and fears and considerations. He beat back the Light,
unable to hold it in his body. It shed his barriers and chains so easily it might as well have
been flying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a muggy mist of orange powder. It swept
through the Light, leaving the scent of wildflowers in its wake.

“Hay! Hay! Let me in!” Hope’s voice pounded against the wall of pain, but he knew

she wouldn’t be able to help. She was wrong, thinking she could hold the Light back. It
wasn’t him who chose, it was it. She wasn’t the right person, could never be.

The Light continued to spin a cocoon of razor-thin sensations in his head. Even with

his blurred sight he could see it glowing on the surface of his skin, threatening to rip him
to bloodied ribbons. He clapped his hands to his ears, trying to keep everything between

them steady, but all that was left was his eyes. It glowered, speared, and tore him apart.

Reach for me, I’m here. The Light parted just enough for him to feel an approaching

storm. Lightning flashed in each fluffy dark cloud and the Light seemed to turn with a
delicate face to watch its approach. I’m yours, if you’d only see me.

“Yes,” he answered desperately. “Please, yes.”
The storm swept in and dispersed the Light slowly. Pain shivered over his body,

coated in soft, promising pleasure. He swallowed back a moan, his ravaged vocal cords
thanking him for the break.

Slowly the Light diminished and his vision cleared. Sekai kneeled before him, worry

stringing his face into a tight expression. “Welcome back.”

Hagan offered him a smile, but he was yanked back and away before either of them

could appreciate it. Hope replaced him and reached out for him. The guard held Sekai
back, but only by so much when he lunged forward. “Don’t touch him!”

She yanked her hand back guiltily, chewing on her bottom lip while he struggled to

sit up. He managed to keep his balance as all three of them watched him move. When he
stumbled, he waved away Hope’s efforts to help him, partly because he didn’t want her
touching him. The other part was because he knew instinctively that any contact made by
anyone other than Sekai would only make him cry out in pain again.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Hope trickled through his world of slowly

ebbing pain. The defeat in her voice stung in the back of his mind. For whatever else she
was, he thought maybe she cared for him.

He turned, sucking in a fortifying breath. “I’m sorry, Hope. I can’t give you what

you want and you can’t be what I need. The only thing you can do for me is to let us go.”

Her head fell forward, even as her shoulders slouched. Huge tears streaked down her

face and hit the ground at her feet. Hagan’s heart went out to her but he couldn’t do
anything to take her pain away. He cursed himself for failing to realize she wanted more
than he had to offer before now.

“I wish you’d change your mind.” She sniffled and threw her head back. Her

expression was tainted with hurt, anger, and an unexpected dose of desperation.
“Reconsider.”

Sekai stood off near the opening of his cell, his jaw clenched shut. Hagan could feel

the effort and strain it cost him in order to be silent while he watched him contemplate his
options.

“No. He is the only one I will accept as my Ouroboros.”
Dr. Selby cut through whatever response Hope would have offered. She stepped out

of thin air with a pair of the Adamdrones beside her. “That’s too bad. We were really
hoping to do this without having to hurt you.”

The Adams she’d brought with her took a step into the cell, but Sekai was quicker.

He ducked under the hold of the first and kicked backward, sending him spiraling out of
the opening and into the doctor. The second Adam moved to stop his attack but hesitated
a moment too long when Selby hit the ground.

Sekai’s lightning crackled in the air, shimmering in a high arc in before slamming

into the attacker’s chest.

“Hope!” Selby screeched from the ground.
An awkward shudder ran through Hope’s body. Violent and short-lived, it left her

eyes blank and her expression doll-like. Tears continued to track down her grinning face

even as the mist appeared from under her skin. It swirled around her, hugging the curves
and dips of her body. She burst into motion, the mist coming alive like a whip. She
slashed through the lightning with a thick tentacle that wound around Sekai’s neck.

Hagan watched in horror as the smoke sank into his lover’s skin. His lightning dulled

but maintained a barrier between him and the attackers. “Don’t! What are you doing to
him?”

Hope answered him in a dead voice. “This perfume is designed to engage an

individual’s pain receptors. The pain threshold is pushed to the max and prolonged
exposure can lead to the shutdown of all vital systems.”

He rammed himself against the wall of lightning in front of him, trying to get to her.

It held, harmlessly bouncing him back. The lightning flared, as if it recognized him and
died down slightly.

Sekai grunted, a sticky grin spreading across his face. His limbs twitched slightly

while he worked his fingers, weaving patterns out of light. He watched the burden
become heavier and heavier, but he never faltered, even as sweat began to run into his
eyes.

Dr. Selby recovered and watched silently as they protected him from invasion. The

two Adams worked on battering the edges of the wall he’d created without flinching.
“What do you hope to accomplish by doing this, Ouroboros? You cannot hope to bond to
him in your present condition.”

Sekai laughed and the sound was twisted and without joy. “You never did

understand it, Lillian. All you see is the power, but you’ve never once considered the why
or how of it. That is why you weren’t chosen. Why you weren’t trusted.”

Dr. Selby’s face scrunched into an ugly purple blotch of rage. She hissed out a hot

breath. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. The Catalysts—”

“The Catalysts,” he scoffed nastily. “They are merely a tool, a means to an end.

None of this is about the Catalysts or what you think they’ve established. It never was.”

The confusion on her face was mirrored three times. While Sekai focused on keeping

the lightning strong, the rest of them struggled to follow where he was going with this
information. The way he spoke insinuated that he knew something the rest of them didn’t.
That whatever it was, it was monumental.

“Hagan, come here.” His command cut through his thoughts and Hagan found

himself moving before he had time to decide whether or not doing so was the best option
at the moment. “Touch me.”

His hands were shaking but he managed to connect to the cool surface of his skin. He

shivered with pleasure, even with the circumstances as they were, and he almost smiled at
the reaction.

Do you want this? Are you sure? Can you handle it?
He didn’t know if he’d said it aloud, but his answer thrummed in the space between

them. “Yes.”

For a moment he wasn’t sure what he wanted but with his next heartbeat, thick,

sweet pain was funneling through Sekai to him. The strain his body was under because of
Hope’s poison, faded. It spread into his body and dispersed in the form of the Light.

Chapter Thirteen

“Stop him!” Selby screeched the command with such ferocity Adam One literally

threw himself against the field. He burned hot and fast, the light streaking through his
body and devouring every particle that made him. There was a desperate kind of jerking
one would associate with being electrocuted, but afterward there was nothing. No dust
hung in the air, no clothing dropped to the floor, Adam was just gone.

The second Adam raised his eyebrows in a mock emotion that didn’t quite reach his

green eyes. He took a respectful step back and shrugged at Selby. “I have only the ability
to hide individuals from the naked eye to go along with my physical abilities.”

She screeched something at Hope, but by then Hagan couldn’t hear her. The Light

was swarming his consciousness, plugging his ears and filling his nostrils. It speared
through him and escaped from the pores of his body. It hovered there, sparkling like
fireflies inches from his body before winking brilliantly. The Light swelled and finally
exploded.

“No!”
He opened his eyes just in time to see Selby draw a painful blow across Hope’s

cheek. The sound of connection made him flinch even as the smaller woman crashed to
the ground with bone-jarring finality. “Now they will know where he is, all because you
hesitated.”

Sekai tried to move Hagan behind him, but he slid to the edge of the barrier where

Hope fell. Selby was muttering under her breath, promising violent retribution. Her stride
ate up the ground while she cursed, desperate to figure out a way to turn the tide in her
favor.

“Hope. Are you all right?” He watched her with wide, assessing eyes, even as he

checked on the sobbing woman.

She whispered her response. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing.”
Selby snapped to attention, yanking Hope away from him. “You. You have your

claws in the Ouroboros. Even if he shared his pain with Hagan, there will be trace
elements in his bloodstream.”

Hope managed a choked response, her teeth chattering with force when the doctor

shook her violently. “Good. I want you to stop his vital functions. Kill him, now.”

“B-but if I do that, Hagan will be affected as well. They’ve bonded.”
Selby drew back her hand and slapped her again, this time refusing to allow her to

sag to the side. “Do as I say. If you make me waste the energy to compel you, I’ll make
sure it’s a long while before you taste any of the sunlight you need.”

A small distressed sound left her throat but she shook her head bravely. “I won’t.

You said it yourself, we need him. You can’t just get rid of him now.”

Selby looked like she was going to hit her again but she drew back in just enough

time. “If he can’t be used there’s no reason to keep him around to be a weapon against us.
But there’s no reason we can’t still make use of him.”

She pressed her finger to the base of her neck, as if she were checking for her own

pulse. Almost immediately, Hope’s eyes went blank and she stood up straight and faced
Sekai. “Tell me what I want to know, Ouroboros. What am I missing in the prophecy?”

Sekai laughed again. “Why would I give you a chance to ruin everything we’ve

worked so hard for?”

She slapped the back of Hope’s shoulder. “I can make it so she only kills you. I

could leave him standing and finish my experiments.”

“No you couldn’t. Now that he’s activated, they would always find him. You would

never be able to keep him for long.”

He watched a slow, scary smile spread across her face. “You assume I don’t have

ways of getting to him on base. You would be surprised at what the Catalysts were able
to do before Yesha pulled her stunt.”

Something shuttered across his expression, gone too quickly for him to dissect. “Kill

me, then. I would die a thousand times before I helped you to hurt him.”

She scoffed. “He’s not so important. Each of us knows the real power comes from

the Ouroboros. His only duty is to separate what can be used by the others. An Ouroboros
still has power solo. The Aurorae are expendable.”

“Tell me what I want to know. Why is he so valuable you would willingly throw

everything we did away?” Hagan’s stomach bottomed out when Selby raised her hand.
He thought she would signal Hope, who stood like a marionette, swaying slightly where
she stood.

Sekai lashed out angrily, his face contorting with rage. “I love him! I always have.”
A stunned blink was the only indication his words breeched the wall of crazed

energy around her. “And that is my problem how? You let your emotions get the best of
you and you cost us years of progress because of something so common?”

He gritted his teeth painfully, glancing at the warehouse door. Hagan knew the

moment Sekai realized help wouldn’t get here fast enough. Hope stood poised before
them, a cocked and ready weapon. A deep breath filled his lungs. “The comet.”

Selby waited for a moment before grunting with impatience. “What the hell are you

talking about?”

“In one of the first expeditions to Earth the Lige did, they uncovered an intact

prophecy of the apocalypse. It mentioned a comet and the renewal of life on the planet. It
turned out to be surprisingly accurate.”

The subtle way he shifted his body caught Hagan’s eye. He ushered him silently to

follow him, never taking his eyes off her. “The comet, however, wasn’t only that. Instead,
it was a systematic purging. The planet was dying and it was the opinion of Others that
the human race should be removed from the equation.”

“You want me to believe the shit Yesha was saying.”
Sekai nodded slightly, again catching his eye as he moved slightly to the right.

Hagan followed his direction, doing his best to make himself seem small and
inconsequential, even as he struggled to accept what was being said.

“I want you to understand there is more here at risk than your own greed. The Others

will wipe the human race out completely if they feel there is no saving you.”

Selby’s mouth pulled back in a humorless smile. “And I suppose you and the

children were their way of giving us a chance.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”
“I’ve heard enough. You’re boring me with your stories. Hope, I want you to kill

both of them. Right here, right now.”

Hagan cried out, trying to get to Hope before Selby could touch her. Hope was

already shaking her head, fighting the compulsion as her eyes threatened to glaze over. At
the same time, the paneling that made up the roof of the warehouse collapsed in on itself.
Shards of flexible glass would have sliced them to pieces if Sekai hadn’t shifted the
barrier to hang over their heads instead.

It happened so quickly he missed most of the action. Dr. Selby cursed under her

breath, throwing Hope to the ground. She grabbed the remaining Adam, and after a sharp
command both of them vanished from sight. Raimi was one step too slow to stop them,
his elongated fingers ripping through the empty space where they had been.

Behind him, Persinna dropped down gracefully, her long legs bending to absorb the

tremendous impact. She stretched her neck and arched her back, revealing long incisors
that cut down past the curve of her chin. A low, menacing noise echoed above the
grinding of glass while she searched the warehouse for enemies.

Moving on all fours, she paused at spot where the first Adam had been vaporized,

just as Sekai brought down the shield. “Are you harmed?”

Hagan stood to help him up and a shock of surprise flooded his body just before it

gave out. He caught the blue-haired man against his chest when he lost consciousness,
waving away the help of a concerned soldier who had rappelled down after the Ligers.

“He’ll be okay,” he said in a voice that wasn’t quite convincing. He had no idea what

was wrong with him, but he didn’t want anyone else touching him.

“We should kill this one. She smells tainted and Nadira said she was the enemy.”

Raimi’s voice was distorted by his own fangs, these much shorter and compact.

Hagan shifted just in time to see him raise a clawed hand to Hope’s unconscious

body. “No! She tried to help us, don’t hurt her.” When he hesitated, he looked around for
help. Finding none, he swallowed. “She may be useful. For information.”

Again he didn’t move, just watched him with an unreadable expression written on

his face. Persinna slid between them, her form folding in on itself in order to reveal the
more humanoid body he was used to. “Remember who he is, Raimi. He has a long way to
go, but he is our Auror.”

Finally Raimi nodded, though it was as painful a motion as any. He moved toward

him and he refused to flinch or look away. He nodded his approval after a moment and
bent down to gather Sekai up into his arms.

When Hagan would have protested, he scoffed. “You’re barely standing on your

own. We need him in one piece and it’s a long way back to the Ecocraft.”

Persinna put her hand on his shoulder as he moved back toward the hole they’d made

in the ceiling. A single bound had him outside with Sekai pressed carefully against his
chest. “Give it time; we all have some adjusting to do.”

He nodded, acknowledging the understatement of the year. He ached in places he

never realized he had, and all he wanted after the whole ordeal was to get back to his
quarters and sleep it off.

Persinna, strangely in tune to his discomfort and his unwillingness to be hauled off

like Raimi had done to Sekai, ushered him out of the cell and through the warehouse
where military personnel were already scanning, dissecting and documenting every nook
and cranny.

“Quite the rescue operation you managed to pull together,” he muttered when a

medic handed him a pack of vitamins and a blanket.

Persinna stepped out of the building before he did. She waited the count of three

before deciding it was safe enough for him to leave as well. He winced at the new
consideration but was too tired to give any real complaint.

He thought she had forgotten his statement when she gave a little shrug. “The

military realizes how important we, and therefore you, are. You should be happy,
Hagan.”

“And why’s that?”
She paused only long enough to give him a thoughtful glance. The way she watched

him through catlike eyes should have given him the creeps, but he guessed he was
beyond being surprised at this point. He didn’t shiver until she whispered her answer.
“Because of you, Yesha has finally gotten what she wanted. Humans and Lige will work
together.”

Chapter Fourteen

The whirlwind of information didn’t stop when they poured into the Ecocraft. With

Sekai unconscious, Hagan became the main fountain of information for the military as
well as the Lige. He repeated every word Selby uttered, over and over again until his
tongue was numb and his brain was fuzzy. Hours passed and Admiral Schneider called
him in for their belated appointment.

Being the admiral, second in command to the fleet admiral, Hagan envisioned a more

serious character. So when the petite pixie-faced woman appeared on the conference
screen, he blinked twice.

“Good afternoon, Hagan!” Her low voice was wrapped around an open smile.
“Good afternoon, Admiral Schneider. I apologize for the lateness of this

transmission.”

She scoffed, dismissing his apology with a quick swipe of a delicate hand. “We’ll

forgive your tardiness, what with you being kidnapped and all.”

“I appreciate it. Would you like for me to give my report, then?”
She shook her head and he got a glimpse of long silver hair pulled into a tight bun

and tucked under her formal hat. “I’m sure the reports you gave to Captain O’Connor are
more than sufficient. Besides, you’re probably sick to death of repeating yourself.”

He hid a laugh behind a cough, unsure of whether not it was appropriate to complain

to her, even via non-direct methods. “Yes, ma’am.”

She watched him for several minutes and he thought he saw the brown of her eyes

lighten to yellow. When he looked back she smiled again. “Tell me what’s not in the
reports, Hagan. How are you doing?”

“It’s a lot to take in.” She nodded as if she understood exactly what he was going

through. Comforted, he continued. “I’m not exactly sure where I stand in the whole of
things.”

“You will find your way, Hagan. From what I understand, you will have a great deal

of people helping you to find it. There is little chance of anyone falling when there are so
many individuals willing to catch him.”

He slapped his hand against the back of his neck. “But do I want them? Up until this

point I’ve been treated as an outsider by most of these people now so willing to help me
stand. Why should I give a damn what they want when they’ve ignored me up until
now?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead she nodded slowly, considering his words.

After a time she heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re right; you’ve been treated poorly by both
sides in this. The only thing any of us can say is that we can only make it right if you let
us.”

When the transmission ended he stood in the middle of the conference room for

several minutes before deciding he should move again. He had several other people who
wanted to see him, including Nadira, but he couldn’t force himself to care at the moment.
Instead, he dragged himself back to the disturbingly spacious room Sekai and he had
been moved into. Together.

Sekai had been pretty banged up when Raimi had arrived before them. When Hagan

had demanded to be taken to him, a medic had appeared to calm his worries. He soothed
and cajoled, promising him that his Ouroboros would be fine, but insisted he needed his
rest.

The room was at least four times the size of standard quarters. The open concept

layout allowed for sprawling fixtures and colorful furniture to be placed comfortably and
permanently without the help of a folding screen.

Hagan stepped into the foyer and was flanked by a huge kitchen and the only other

door in the space, which led to the bathroom. Open as it was, he could make out a huge
soaking tub and separate shower as well as an open archway closet. His things were
already hanging neatly in the tidy space and his personal items were set up on one of the
double sinks.

Off the combined kitchen, living and dining room area was a platform partially

enclosed by changing screens.

Sekai shifted to a sitting position on the bed housed there, tucking a strand of blue

hair behind one ear. The smile he offered wasn’t chock-full of his usual confidence.
“What do you think?”

He stopped at the edge of the plush couch, just short of the “bedroom.” He noted his

lack of positioning with a quick frown, but continued as if nothing was wrong. “They say
it’s an officer’s suite.”

“How long have you known about what we are?”
He paused, choosing his words carefully. “The whole time.”
“So that’s all it was between us. Some predetermined compatibility.”
It wasn’t a question but he answered as if he had asked. “Even if my lightning hadn’t

responded, I would have wanted you.”

A hurt he hadn’t realized he’d been harboring swelled in his chest. “You don’t mean

that. You’re just like every one of them. You wouldn’t give me the time of day if you
didn’t know you could get something out of it.” Hagan turned to leave, unable to bear
another moment in his presence.

Sekai was off the bed and behind him before he could make it two steps. Big hands

dug into his shoulders and tugged back, causing his teeth to slam together and his back to
bounce against his chest. “You have no clue what I’ve done to be with you.”

Hagan snapped out of his hold and spun, catching him in the shoulder with his fist.

“What are you talking about?”

His hand snaked out quicker than he would have thought possible. He yanked him

forward and slammed his mouth against his. Hagan struggled against his hold, his heart
slamming wildly against his rib cage even as his hands came up to press against the rock-
hard panel of his chest.

He was melting into his kiss, head spinning in seconds. Then Sekai was pushing him

back, throwing his weight into his hips so he fell back onto the couch. “They told me to
be patient, not to push you or rush you.”

His hands moved deftly over straps and ties, peeling away the layers of his clothing.

Hagan swallowed, knowing his eyes were as round as saucers when he kicked away the
last article of clothing. Sekai stood in front of him, a dark and sculpted force to be
reckoned with. His jaw was held tight, just like the rest of his body. Muscles bunched and
flexed under his inspection, working tirelessly as he fought himself not to jump on him.

“W-who? Who told you to be patient?”

“The Others. You were so young, there was no way you would remember them. But

I had been manufactured almost four hundred years before you.”

Hagan closed his eyes, too used to being shocked. Only … this time the information

sounded almost right. He considered the images that danced behind his eyes when he
relaxed enough to let them come. His skin tingled with knowledge he should have,
information that he’d forced out of his mind. “You mentioned them before. The Others.
Are they the same beings you say caused the destruction of Earth?”

Sekai’s hand pressed against his forehead, and the images struggled to surface;

golden towers and high walls, gleaming under a white sky with two suns. Purple waters
crashed against blue grass hills, and he sucked in a breath of air that smelled as sweet and
clean as the man in front of him.

“There is a great more going on here than anyone but us is privy to, Hagan. More

than I can tell you now.”

He opened his eyes to find Sekai’s face hovering before his. Tears filled his beautiful

eyes and his heart broke at the sorrow there. “I’m not hiding anything from you by
choice. I’m only doing what must be done in order to keep you safe. If this has to keep
you away from me, if you’re not ready to truly bind with me, I will understand.” Sekai
reached down and pressed his hand to his chest. He kept it there, feeling the steady drum
of his heartbeat. “Only, promise to stay with me. I couldn’t bear for you to leave me.”

When Hagan hesitated—more due to shock than doubt—Sekai continued. “I will

offer you a boon. Once every twenty-eight days, I will answer a single question you ask
of me. I will answer it truthfully and to the best of my abilities, no matter what you ask.”

Hagan stared at him, eyes wide as he leaned up. He moved slowly, giving Sekai time

to push him away or refuse. The openness of his confession touched Hagan’s heart.
Naked and vulnerable, he’d bared himself to Hagan’s inspection and he could find
nothing wanting. Even if everything else in the situation was confusing and wrong, he
could never label his Ouroboros the same.

He wrapped his arms around his neck, ignoring the way his hands trembled when he

moved. He took in a desperate breath and held it in his chest as he slid up his lap,
pressing his lips to his.

Lightning burst from the depths of his soul and traveled the length of his body. A

reservoir of Light was unlocked and the clash of the two brought tears to his eyes. He felt
a spiritual presence shimmer in the small space between their hearts, promising greatness
and security.

“Hagan,” he murmured against his mouth, pulling back so he could share the breath

he had released. “Do you feel it?”

Hagan nodded slowly; scared to use his voice for fear that the sob tunneling up his

throat would betray him. His big, beautiful hands reached down and lightly touched the
hem of his shirt. Hagan shuddered when his skin brushed against his, the warm palms of
his hand sliding over his abs and upward to his nipples. Sekai pushed him backward,
stripping him of his doubts when he refused to break the kiss—the brand—he had begun.

When he found his nipples he groaned, the electricity from his fingertips sinking into

the sensitive skin. The flesh there perked up, drawn to his touch even as he dragged his
mouth away from Hagan’s and down the side of his neck and to his face. “Your skin feels
so soft. Like silk left out in the sun, you’re going to burn me with your luxury.”

Sekai pulled his shirt over his head, inhaling deeply as if he couldn’t get enough of

his scent. Hagan stared, captured in the center of the tornado he was creating with his
energy. The promise of pleasure hummed in the air around him, brushing against his ears
and filling his mouth with the taste of honey and wine.

When he leaned over, running the flat of his warm tongue over his nipple he shot up,

arching his back off the couch. His name strangled in his throat, and Sekai wasted no
time, sliding his hand over the front of his pants. The purple light sank into Hagan’s skin
through the cloth, marking him deeper and making his cock twitch appreciatively.

Hagan’s eyes fluttered closed as he continued to stroke him through the material,

making slow tracks up and down his shaft. He rocked his hips eagerly, the tingling
growing hotter and deeper with every thrust. It seemed like ages before Sekai left the
place where he was lapping at his tight nipples, though Hagan knew it could only have
been seconds.

“Do you want to stop?” It was a simple question, but he heard the weight behind it. If

Hagan asked him not to go any further he would break his own hand before he touched
him again. Under his considering gaze his thick, throbbing cock wilted slightly, as if
preparing for the worst. He swallowed his shyness and reached down to wrap his hand
around his impressive mass.

“This is what I want.” He pumped his fist lightly and awkwardly but Sekai didn’t

seem to notice his lack of skill. His head flung backward and he regurgitated a low, lusty
groan that wiped away any concerns he had about not being good enough to please him.
He adjusted his hold slightly, fisting his cock in a narrow tunnel, and his breath caught in
his chest this time. A supreme measure of pride slammed into him when he jerked, a
spasm of nearly explosion.

“No, don’t. I want us bound this time.” Hagan swallowed hard when Sekai pulled his

hand away, taking a second to kiss each of his fingers one by one. He was already sticky
with a considerable amount of his juice, and he licked away the clear liquid without
breaking eye contact.

A shudder ran through Hagan’s body and his Adam’s apple bobbed precariously.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who does that?”

Sekai shrugged, running his hands up the length of his arms. The lightning was back,

controlled by his touch, and Hagan groaned when it pricked his skin. “Be sure, Auror. I
will not be able to hold myself back if I remove your last bit of protection.”

In response, Hagan scooted back a little bit and lifted his hips so he could remove his

pants. Sekai raised an eyebrow when he was fully nude, surveying his body much in the
same way as Hagan had done his. He licked his lips suggestively when his eyes fell to his
package, a little shorter, but thicker than his.

“I guess I’ll take that as a go-ahead.”
Hagan laughed away his sudden shyness even though he knew he could feel the

added heat of the blush under his skin. Sekai sculpted his sides and hips with his
fingertips, caressing him lightly in places he’d never been touched before. When his nails
scraped over the length of his cock he jerked in surprise. A soft purr from him held him
still, but he was suddenly thinking of a dream he’d had involving rope. “S-Sekai…”

He hiccupped a non-question but the Ouroboros knew exactly what he needed. A

slow smile spread across his face and he pressed his mouth to a spot just below his belly
button. “There will be times when pain and submission will be a part of our love life. It
makes you stronger as an Auror and it deepens your trust of me.”

He swallowed when he kissed him again, this time lower. His breath bathed his dick,

and he was sure he would explode the moment he touched him with his wet tongue. The
words he was saying barely made it through the fog of lust wrapped around his head.

“But there will also be times where I simply want to make love to you, Hagan.

Simply want to share my body with you … because I love you.”

Red lust burned into something much hotter and purer and Hagan swallowed back

the lump in his throat. He didn’t know what to say and the hesitation was thick enough to
hit his ears like a drum.

Sekai nodded without venom and smiled up at him. “Don’t worry, there’s time.”
He would have sighed with relief but his lover was already flipping him over onto

his stomach. The couch bounced with the sudden movement and he sucked in a startled
breath when he landed with his knees bent and his head down in his arms. “What are—”

He choked on his exclamation when Sekai spread his ass cheeks. His puckered hole

flexed as the sudden cool air hit it, and his hips immediately jerked to get away from him.

“Don’t move. You said you wanted us to bind. That is what we’re doing.” His

tongue swiped over one plump cheek, and he groaned, the pleasure wiping away some of
his confusion. He grabbed a pillow and buried his red face in it, breathing a moan he
hadn’t expected. He rocked back and forth guiding Sekai’s tongue to the hub of nerves at
his cinnamon-colored hole.

Hagan gasped, sucking in a mouthful of material when his tongue stiffened and

penetrated the ring of muscle. Sekai caught his jerking hips with expert hands, reaching
around to give his cock a reassuring squeeze before backing off slightly. “Does it feel
good?”

He muttered his answer, unwilling to raise his eyes. Sekai smiled against the swell of

his ass, before pulling away and slipping a finger into his mouth with a low moan.
Without looking, Hagan knew he slid it wet from his mouth, the smacking assaulting his
ears with devious promise.

His dry hand connected with the rigid muscle of his thigh and he jumped with the

crack of skin to skin contact. “Answer me.”

Stinging flesh throbbed along with the thud of his dick. He lifted his head and

whimpered when he pinched the tight span of his taint. He leaned in again and blew a wet
kiss in the space between his hot anus and his heavy balls. He pressed his knuckles into
the line, and he moaned another whimper of pleasure, this time dragging in a deep breath
to reply, “I love it, please, don’t stop.”

A low chuckle filled his head, and his mouth was on him again, sucking his hole

lightly. Hagan shuddered, feeling the answering tug in the base of his cock. He reached
up and rolled his balls in his hand, kneading lightly even as he pressed his tongue inside
of his canal once more.

Hot, answering liquid painted his stomach where the head of his prick strained

painfully past its perceived limit. Sekai kissed his reddened thigh again before touching
him with his wet finger. The slick digit probed lightly and easily, brushing against the
sensitive area long enough for him to relax. Hagan panted into the pillow, his body strung
tight with anticipation. When Sekai pressed inside, his hole put up nary a struggle,
sucking him in greedily. Hagan gulped in hungry breaths, begging him with incoherent
sentences to keep going, to give him more.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to give you everything. I just want to be sure you’re

completely ready.”

He stuffed a second finger inside of him, and his balls jumped, preparing to go off

like a rocket. The stretch was something to behold, borderline painful but mostly hinting
at insane pleasure in the future. He rocked against his hold, taking him in deeper and
relishing the slight burn. “I’m ready. Please, I’ve been ready.” He swallowed the
openmouthed declarations that would tell him he’d been ready from the moment he met
him, and instead thrust his hips back toward him, praying he would get the hint.

A moment’s word of hesitation was all it took. Sekai sat up and propped one knee

between them on the couch, nudging his knees further apart. He silently thanked
whomever was responsible for the spacious piece of furniture when the thick head of his
cock was pressing against the exact place he longed to feel it. He slid his body up and
down the crack of his offering, burning him with a trail of sticky promise.

Both of them held their breaths when he lined up, resting his hands on his hips.

Lubrication caused him to slide against his hole and Hagan counted the heartbeats
between each attempt before Sekai’s cock was sliding into his body. The head stretched
him further than either of his fingers had and he gasped at the sudden pain. His entire
body flushed with fire and the bottom of his feet tingled with the answering call of blood.

He could feel the blue-haired man trembling behind him, holding himself in an iron

grip as he got used to each centimeter of his invasion. The burn was deeper than almost
any pain Hagan had ever felt, sinking into his bones and vibrating there. He crushed his
face against the pillow to keep from crying out when he pulled back, only to sink in
deeper on his second entrance.

“Are you all right?” Sekai’s voice was hoarse and his hands clenched against his

sides.

He nodded, a soft mewl escaping his parted lips when he shifted. The pain was still

there, shivering beneath the surface of his bravado, but it was changing.

The more time he held him, stroking his skin lightly, the more the pain blossomed

into something different. Lightning crashed through his body, beginning in tiny waves
and building until he was containing a storm under his skin. The electricity bounced
around in his frame and melted into the fire he had started.

He shifted again and this time the noise that escaped was filled with confused

pleasure. Light spread in his head, shimmering beyond his skin in playful fireflies again.
The winking lights danced before his eyes, urging him to look up from the safety of the
pillow.

He did, trusting the power that echoed the pounding of his own heartbeat. It swirled

around his head, lighting his face with warmth before vanishing behind his back. He
looked over his shoulder and smiled when the fireflies danced across the planes of
Sekai’s shoulders. They sank into his skin, much as his lightning did for him, and he
sighed with soul-deep contentment. “Yes, this is right.”

Sekai grinned at him, the same expression that made his stomach do summersaults.

He hesitantly rocked his hips against his and was rewarded with pleasure that made his
toes curl. He moaned without meaning to, watching with rapt fascination as Sekai’s light
skin came to rest against his own dark flesh.

The Ouroboros pushed against him, slowly at first, and he couldn’t swallow his

“Umph” of appreciation. He matched his pace as it sped up, the feeling of fullness and
pressure making his entire body hum desperately. He dropped his head forward when he

snaked his hand around and began to stroke his twitching cock, the double-ended
sensation too much for him to handle.

Hagan’s legs pushed back against his pounding, and he couldn’t keep his hips from

thrusting forward when Sekai twisted his wrist over the head of his erection. The
Ouroboros went still as Hagan continued to slam against him, feeling his balls brush
against his taint with every responding thud. His vision went red with lust and his
heartbeat pounded dangerously in his ears. Hagan pushed harder against his immobile
hips, taking him deep enough to scratch an itch he hadn’t known existed.

The moment he touched the inner center of his being, he erupted with a violent

spasm. Sekai’s hand worked his shaft as stars erupted behind his eyes. He opened his
mouth to scream but nothing but a choked sob escaped. He was vaguely aware of a cry
behind him moments before they both slumped over onto the couch, panting uselessly.

Hagan didn’t know how long he lay there, an exhausted mass of exposed nerve

endings. His body beat heavily with pleasure, dragging him into a restful world of Light
and sweet water scented kisses.

Chapter Fifteen

He woke refreshed, washed, and with an order to report to Limbo blinking on the

trusty com. He groaned, his body blissfully sore and not interested in moving any more
than was absolutely necessary to scrounge up something to eat. The only reason he
dragged himself out of the room was the fact that on top of the com was a note from
Sekai.

He scoffed at the blinking message. “Stay put? My ass.” The body part in question

thrummed with a new bout of discomfort as if to defy him. He ignored it and hurried past
several soldiers, noting each one of them stopped to salute him as he went.

Getting into Limbo wasn’t quite so evasive today, either. After a quick palm scan he

was set forward with a respectful nod that may or may not have been a little forced.

Again, he was overwhelmed by how much Limbo had changed. The final viewing

screens had been knocked down since his last visit, leaving a huge open space that could
have been a high-end lounge. There was even a fountain spitting out streams of vanishing
clear water. He took a moment to enjoy the change of scenery before being dragged into
the argument in full swing.

Raimi stood chest to chest with Sekai, his face a mask of fury. The double vines on

his face swirled with golden color while he shouted. “He has awakened! We should have
been fighting two days ago.”

Hagan caught Nadira’s eyes as she leaned against a tall, painfully lanky Liger he had

never seen before. The stranger smiled down at her, and he caught a glimpse of an
outlined Ligurae. He’d only just awakened but he hovered over her as if he’d known her
forever. She shrugged in his direction and the newcomer stood up straight when he
caught his first glance of Hagan.

Persinna refused to look at him. Her focus was completely on the shouting match

unfolding before them.

Sekai’s voice was a boom of threatening thunder, something none of the people in

the room seemed too concerned with. “He is not at his full power. It takes years for the
Aurorae to have the kind of control you seem to expect.”

Raimi snarled, his fingers elongating to house the lethal claws sliding out of his skin.

“So we are supposed to sit around with our thumbs up our asses while he does some
secret training you can’t explain?”

“I’ve told you already, the process is different for each of them. It is a process known

only to each individual set of Ouroboros and Aurorae.”

“That’s damn convenient for you, isn’t it? We stand around, dying a little on the

inside for every second we’re not out fulfilling our purpose, and you spend your time
with your dick in his ass!”

Sekai never touched him, but the force of thunderous power sweeping through the

room was enough to knock the Liger back a few feet. He winced, ignoring his discomfort
to take a step forward, but Persinna beat him to it. She snatched a coiling Raimi from the
air before he had a change to attempt a counterattack they all knew wouldn’t work.

“That is enough.” Her sharp command slammed into the air much as the thunder had.

“Our Auror has arrived. Show some proper respect.”

Hagan shifted uncomfortably when all eyes turned his way. After a pained heartbeat,

each of the Ligers bowed their heads in respect, crossing their arms and pressing their
palms to their shoulders before bending at the waist or curtsying at the knee. Some
instinct buried deep had him touching his own shoulders and bringing his palms together
in a resounding clap.

A bolt of weak power filled his hands, and he watched in awe as it divided itself

among the Lige. Each of them closed their eyes, slowly pulling their hands down from
their shoulders and clapping just as he had. The tiny orbs of Light shattered upon impact
and flew along their bodies, finding their Ligurae and sinking into it.

Raimi was closest to him and he watched the golden swirls in his marking grow

brighter for a moment before dying back down.

“Well…” He laughed nervously. “That was different.”
He must have looked as faint as he suddenly felt, because Sekai was at his side in an

instant, supporting him without having to touch him. He smiled at him, a wobbly, frail
thing that came straight from the heart.

“You see.” Sekai spoke softly, never taking his eyes off Hagan, even though he knew

the words weren’t for his benefit. “He’s not ready, and besides, you have no idea what
you’re up against.”

The glazed look left Raimi’s face, and after a quelling look from Persinna, he

growled and moved away from the group, folding his arms across his chest. The priestess
let out a martyred sigh before turning to face him again. “How are you feeling?”

He shifted again, and several muscles pulled and tugged with the motion. He thought

he’d managed to conceal his discomfort beautifully, though the illusion would have been
much more convincing if Sekai would have given him more than an inch leeway before
he was ready to catch him. He smiled. “It’s all a bit to take in.”

She grinned knowingly. “I have no doubt, though I’m sure you’ll adjust nicely.”
A deep flush flooded his body and he quickly averted his eyes, eyeing Nadira

instead. She smiled blithely, a far off look on her face. He shifted casually, feeling
anything but. “At any rate, what was that about?”

Persinna shrugged lightly, looking to Sekai. He turned in enough time to see him

glare at her, obviously displeased she would bring it up in front of him. “Raimi believes
the Lige should begin fighting immediately. He wants to lead an expedition to Earth.”

He thought for a moment, watching Raimi out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to

undulate with latent energy, dying to hear his answer but too sure it wouldn’t be what he
wanted. He rubbed his palm against the back of his neck and focused on what was
important. There was something within him that very much wanted to do just as Raimi
asked. “It is what they were meant for. They need it, are drawn to the mission. I don’t see
why we can’t fight the Nihil and learn at the same time.”

The moment he said “Nihil,” stone fell over Sekai’s face. He simply blanked out his

expression and Hagan groaned as he hit another wall. “You are strongly opposed to us
fighting?” Sekai’s facial expression didn’t change. The same shuttered mask that told him
he knew something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell him. Hagan shifted his body so his
back was to the room and lowered his voice so only he would hear him. “You have that
look on your face again.”

He knew exactly what he was talking about and his mouth twisted with displeasure.

“You aren’t ready.”

“How do you know?”
Sapphire depths lit up with inner light. “Are you using your dedicated question?”
Hagan started, leaning closer to him. “I thought I had already used it for this month.”
They may as well have been alone in the room. Sekai pressed his palm to his cheek

and bent low. “No. The first was a gift. A thanks.”

He flushed lightly, carefully considering the way he phrased his next sentence.

“What is it about the Nihil you do not want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, bathing him with his scent. He thought he would kiss him but

instead he stopped a hair’s breadth from his mouth. “They aren’t Nihil, they’re Others.”

Hagan’s stomach bottomed out. Sekai immediately caught his face in his hands and

kept him steady. “Others? The same Others we are?”

The stone remained, immobile and final. He wouldn’t answer any more of his

questions. He sighed heavily and Sekai continued to watch him, gauging his reaction to
his unanswering answer. Seeing the worry in his eyes he leaned up and brushed his
mouth with Hagan’s reassuringly. “Thank you.”

He nodded slowly, offering him a smile. “My pleasure.”
Hagan turned back to the Lige and found them watching him expectantly. Each of

them reflected complete trust, even Raimi. He felt a deep sense of comfort and respect, as
if no matter what he said they would abide by his decision. They wouldn’t all like it, but
each of them would follow his orders without fail.

The responsibility and honor they were entrusting him with was a heavy burden on

his shoulders. He shrugged lightly, almost as if attempting to lighten the load. It wasn’t
until Sekai put his hand on his lower back that he felt the weight lessen to a manageable
degree.

He cleared his throat. “The remaining members of the Lige have not all awakened.

Of all of those who were created, only nine remain. Of those nine, only four have
awakened.” He gestured toward the newest member of their party. “What is your name?”

The Liger stepped forward proudly. “The humans labeled me Subject 03M, but I am

known as Cashile.”

Hagan gave a sharp nod. “And, Cashile, do you know what you can do? What race

are you, what form of Lige are you?” He blinked at him, confused, and Hagan continued.
“Over the last few days I’ve learned much about the Lige. Where we thought there was
only one kind, there are two: vegetative and animal. There are different abilities within
each kind.”

When none of them understood, he beckoned to where Nadira sat. “She’s a

vegetative Lige. All this time, we thought she was sickly or slow. Instead, she’s someone
different altogether.” Nadira sat up straight, absorbing his information with a shrug. He
smiled, appreciating her bravery at the declaration. “My point is, we don’t know anything
about what we are and what we can do. I know each of you had been pining to get into
the fray. You were created for a sole purpose and not doing it has to be frustrating and
painful.” When Persinna nodded, he cleared his throat, feeling at odds with the new
position of responsibility. “But I believe without extensive training, we are ill-equipped
to save anyone.”

Raimi stepped forward, ready to protest, and Hagan held up a hand. “That doesn’t

mean, however, we will be doing nothing. There is an organization of traitors among the
WMF. We don’t know what their next move will be or who their operatives are. We

don’t even know what their weapons can do.” He shivered, thinking of Hope. “Our
attentions will be focused and valuable. Before we can fight, we have to learn.”

Several minutes ticked by after he finished what he hoped was a rousing speech. He

stood there, frozen in what he was sure was a stupid position as he waited for their
responses. Finally, Raimi pushed forward, his claws still extended.

Sekai made to move to his side, but Hagan waved him off, allowing the volatile

Liger to approach him. When he stood in front of him, he had to tilt his head backward to
look up at his face. He scoffed lightly before bowing his head. “As much as it pains me to
admit it, you have some good points. I will do as you ask … Auror.”

He nodded gratefully, leaning on his old sense of bravado to incline his head gently.

“You have my thanks.”

Raimi’s eyes flicked back toward Sekai and there was a wealth of mistrust and

dislike there. “Yeah, well. You don’t have to thank me. All I want from you is for you to
do your own training. We need you to be strong so we can be stronger.”

Hagan offered him his best cocky grin. “You can count on it.”
Raimi swore violently, saying that spending so much time within the military

compound was giving him hives. He hopped on the Ecocraft and demanded the others
report back in within the hour or else he would come to get them. Persinna decided she
needed to have a talk with O’Connor and see what she could do about getting them
appropriate quarters on the base.

Nadira was the last to leave, trailed by Cashile. She touched Hagan’s hand lightly,

looking up at him with those strange violet eyes. “I know you were worried about
revealing how different I am than the others. I just want you to know I don’t mind it. We
are all different in our own ways, and as my abilities can only help the operation, I doubt
anyone will hold it against me.” Her gaze was pointed as it flashed between the two of
them. “It’s not so bad, being different.”

Hagan wanted to scoop her up into his arms and give her a hug, but he refrained,

patting her on the head instead. “You are wise beyond your years, you know that?”

“I know.” She giggled and offered him a peck on the cheek before moving along to

whisper something to Sekai.

Cashile stood off to the side and cleared his throat when too much time had passed.

She laughed over her shoulder at him. “Yes, we’re going to be late, aren’t we?”

The Ligers left Sekai and him standing alone in Limbo. Hagan didn’t bother to ask

what she was talking about. Instead, he slumped into one of the nearby chairs and waited
for Sekai to join him. He dragged him into his lap, uncaring of who saw him. “Are you
truly all right?” He took a deep breath of sweet water scent. “I don’t have to be an Oracle
to see we’ve got a long path in front of us…” He hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m strong
enough.”

Sekai pressed a kiss to his forehead before tucking him into the space under his neck.

“You’re stronger than you think, Hagan, stronger than all of us combined. You just have
to give yourself time to grow and trust in your own abilities. Until you do, I will be your
strength.”

He smiled against his chest, content at just being near him. For now, that would be

enough.

The End

About the Author:

Nina S. Gooden has been in love with the written word since her first well-spent

allowance on A Light In The Attic. She spends most of the time she's not drowning in
characters and plot ideas watching anime and playing video games (she's a Holy
Paladin/Chloromancer Mage in disguise). Her biggest influences are mythology and
psychology, though she's been known to dabble in the obscure. Currently, she lives in
dusty Las Vegas with her long-term boyfriend and evil genius kitty.