Elana sucks in a pained breath, but she doesn’t look at me with revulsion. Her eyes are soft, sympathetic.
“Rist and I tried to seize the throne, but we were caught,” I say, the old rage simmering as I recall those events. I scoff, “We were idealistic fools.”
I close my eyes, remembering how close I came to killing the current king. And how it ended up with us in the dungeons, my friends being tortured. “As punishment, they cut my horns—a mark of shame.”
With trembling fingers, I part my hair, revealing the stubs. They’re all that remains of my shredded honor.
“We escaped to the reaches of Volscian space. It’s how we ended up here in Federation territory. We had to beg our enemy to grant us a place to live out our lives.”
My shoulders slump in defeat. There it is—the truth of the matter. I wait for her condemnation.
I glance out at the hotel, my eyes scanning the surroundings that I can visualize in my sleep. I’ve walked these grounds countless times. At first, I stomped around, raging with anger and hopelessness at the disastrous hand fate had dealt us, but eventually, a dull acceptance set in once Prince Rist started building our new home. The whole time, I endeavored to maintain a smiling face to the rest of the universe, especially for my friend Taruk who had been affected the most by all our hardships.
“Welcome to the Alien Hotel; a place for anyone to find rest or a home, no matter their past,” Rist would strut around saying. It took time for me to believe his vision. It took me time to see how time passing could heal our wounds, both physical and mental.
“When we got here, the building was decrepit. We expended every last credit the Federation gave us fixing it up. To be honest, there are still sections of the building and gardens too damaged to be usable without more work. The prince, though, he calls this place home. It’s like the past never transpired. He keeps saying any male needing a new start should get one. And I just... am uncertain.”
“Don’t know what — that they don’t deserve a fresh start, or that you don’t deserve one yourself?” Elana wisely asks, posing the very question I’ve struggled with for so long now.
“I reconciled with my past a long time ago,” I reply, wondering if my words are genuinely truthful. I accepted that I was an assassin, was proud of it… Or so I thought. Back then, I never stopped to contemplate the consequences. “It’s whether others can truly accept my past and who I am now.”
My question, a statement really, hangs in the air between us, potent and unspoken. The only one who really matters is Elana. If she can accept me, then I can move on with my life. My future’s not what I envisioned, but it could be fulfilled with her in it. Only her.
She doesn’t respond.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to conceal the tears gathering there. My lungs crave air, but I can’t breathe. What’s the point of living without her in it? I have no purpose, no one to devote myself to. I need her as desperately as I need my next breath.
My eyes fly open when her cool fingertips touch my cheek.
“You’ve got blood on your hands,” she says softly.
Her accusation strikes me like a blow, dimming the world around me. I kept insisting that my past didn’t bother me, but facing rejection is more painful than I anticipated.
“Good thing they’re red then,” she forces out a tiny laugh. “I think your prince has the right idea—we all have pasts we want to ditch. A fresh start... sounds lovely.”
“I don’t know how to be gentle, Elana. I don’t know how to love,” I warn her.
She laughs. “Yeah, you do. Standing by the prince through so much shows you care about your friends. Anyone that loyal knows real love.”
“You don’t mind?” I ask, kneeling before her, my legs too weak to remain standing. “Can you accept me as I am? Truly?”
Rist keeps saying others will, but I’ve never bought into his hopeful visions. Hope is cruel and easily crushed.
Elana’s arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer. Her petite, warm body presses against mine, relieving long-held tensions.
“I do,” she breathes against my lips. Her soft flesh tentatively brushes against my lips. I groan when her tongue darts out, caressing the seam and seeking entry.
Some primal instinct inside of me rears its head. Elana is mine. I’ll never let this female go. I’ll die first.
I need to claim her. Now.
ChapterTwelve
SUTEK
Istumble through the hallways of the hotel, my entire focus on Elana, my little human mate. She kisses me, her lips pressing against mine with a desperation I match.
With a groan, I pull her legs tighter around me, my claws sliding beneath the slick fabric of the mating gown to prick the back of her thighs. She mews in my arms, her hips rolling against mine.
