The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series (20 page)

“If you will not take my advice, then I cannot help you. Drag yourself to meet your needs. There is no one coming to free you. You are not better than any of the rest of us,” Maire said, following the guard out.

Boca took a step forward, fully intending to follow them and see where the dark stairs they took led, but a hand on her arm halted her.

“No. You cannot follow today. It is not your destiny,” the emissary said.

“Then what is my destiny?” Boca demanded, rounding on the female who restrained her.

“Your journey to find Kefira cannot be shortened. There is much for all to learn,” the emissary said. “You will require the help of others to succeed. Remember this. No warrior fights alone and wins against a man who has strayed so far from his spirit.”

Boca looked at the weeping young female in the cage, heart hurting as she watched her rub her freshly wired legs trying to ease the discomfort. It was all she could do not to reach under her robe and rub her own scars.

She walked to the cage and wrapped her fingers around the bars. The metal of them was cold in the palms of her hands. “I do not understand why I see her and cannot help. This place feels so real to me.”

“This place is real. But you are only here in spirit. Kefira cannot hear you because it is not her destiny to know you yet. All you have endured was to prepare you to help the Lotharians begin their redemption,” the emissary said. “This is your true purpose. Your actions will begin the change.”

Boca snarled at the information. Wait. Suffer. Let it go for now. How she hated all those who had control of others. Were the Creators any different? Sometimes she doubted it.

“Look at her pain, Emissary. How can any of this be divine will? To be wired is trauma enough. To be controlled is an evil that should be punished. The Lotharians are not worthy of life. Why not just kill them all?” Boca demanded, turning her gaze away from the weeping female’s pain.

“Some Lotharian males will die, but some will be saved. It is for the greater good to save as many as can be turned from this kind of evil,” the emissary said. “All futures on all planets are linked. One born on this planet will save a life on another. This is the way all beings are connected to each other.”

“I will not say that I understand because I do not,” Boca said with a frown. “But I can thank you for the message and will try to use the information to save Kefira.”

“Your understanding will come in time. This,” the emissary lifted a hand to the weeping female, “was to show you one who is meant for a much higher purpose. Some of those who have harmed her directly will be returned to the Creators to begin again. Others will be spared. Some of this lies in your destiny to decide.”

“It will not grieve my spirit to end her captor’s life. Do not expect me to offer mercy to those who do not understand or practice it,” Boca said fiercely, daring to argue since it was just a dream.

“Release your anger over what I have told you because it will do you no good. Now, before you return, be silent once more so I can deliver the Creators’ personal message for you,” the emissary said.

Boca stared at the too stoic female, frowning harder. “Is this not enough torture? You have yet more news to tell me.”

“Aye,” the emissary said. “
Estu benata via aligo Chiang the Greggor
.”

At hearing the simple Sumerian blessing for a life joining, Boca laughed at the incredulous idea that supreme deities could possibly care about whether or not she and Chiang ever fully bonded.

“You expect me to believe the most important message you have for me from the Creators is about mating Chiang the Greggor?”

Boca watched the emissary bow her head and close her eyes in respect before turning irreverently away to swear in Sumerian. Respect forgotten, she answered from her gut, hoping to end the dream. “We will do what must be done. Is that not enough to please those who think they control my destiny and his?”

“Your understanding is incorrect. The connection the Greggor offers you will bring you much joy in your current incarnation. You have not met any male in this life, or the ones before, who has as pure a compassion for you. The Greggor is a gift. I advise you not to refuse him,” the emissary said, her expression never changing.

Having had much practice at politely saying yes when she didn’t intend to take advice, Boca nodded. “Fine. I will keep your words in mind. Thank you, Emissary.”

The emissary bowed her head again. “Know that he would give you all his strength to keep you safe. Does this mean nothing to your spirit?”

“Chiang would do so without mating me,” Boca argued.

“Indeed,” the emissary said. “But his destiny is linked to yours. The Greggor needs your courage to face the darkness within himself and be free of his past. You both have many trials ahead.”

“I would help Chiang in any way I could without asking for anything in return either,” Boca said, throat tight because she knew it was the truth.

“What you fear so greatly has already happened,
Che’ta
. You already are his mate in spirit,” the emissary said flatly.

Boca opened her mouth to deny the pronouncement again, thinking to explain that she wanted a life free of that kind of connection, but no words came out. Instead, there was a rushing wind, and suddenly she was blinking her eyes and opening them to see a familiar arm under her head and another wrapped possessively around her waist.

She rubbed Chiang’s arm lightly to encourage him to lessen his grip. Immediately, the inside of her turned to a liquid pool of lust at the thought of putting her lips to his skin and laving his arm with wet kisses until he woke.

Mate or not, she knew she was only postponing the inevitable by holding back her physical self from him. Up to now, she had managed to keep the male satisfied enough to stay out of her, but it was getting more and more difficult to fight against her own desire to join with him, especially when all she had to do was roll over into that massive chest.

“
Slaggika
,” Boca swore softly, seeing in her head a clear image of herself kissing his naked body. “Now even the deities conspire to control my will in this matter.”

She lay unmoving a bit longer, fighting her physical urges and trying not to remember how often she had done so with the current male wrapped around her. No other had ever tested her resolve. The rest she could have abandoned without a thought.

Then the strangeness of the situation hit her. Why was Chiang even here in the meditation room with her? Where was Lieutenant Zade?

He must have come to find her when she hadn’t shown up. Her face flushed imagining the conversation between Chiang and Dorian Zade over her unconscious body. Yet despite that humiliation, it was taking all her willpower not to unbutton her robe and invite Chiang’s large, and yet surprisingly gentle, hands to go exploring. She was muttering under her breath when the arm gripping her changed to a hand rolling her over to face him.

“Boca. Thank the Creators. You have truly returned to me,” Chiang said, sweeping his hands over her until one cupped her face and held her gaze. “Zade said you weren’t dead, but I didn’t know…”

“Be at peace, Chiang. I have been to see the Creators…or at least one of their interfering minions,” Boca said, frowning into the worried gaze of the male looming over her.

“You speak so irreverently. What did they tell you to make you so angry?” Chiang asked.

He knew her well, Boca decided, which is probably why the hardest information she had received came tumbling out. “They said your desire for me was a gift I should not refuse.”

Chiang’s stroking hand froze as he met her angry glare. “Let me guess—you thanked them politely while cursing them under your breath,” he said tightly.

“No, I did not,” Boca denied hotly. “I cursed the arrogant female openly. She sent me back to you before I could argue with her further.”

Chiang fell back to the mat, removing his hands from Boca to keep from shaking her. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“I’ve waited with your unconscious body and worried about you for hours, while you argued with an emissary of the Creators and denied our connection. What have I ever done that was less than supportive, less than friendly, that you would shun the Creators rather than admit you might desire me back? Is wanting me that abhorrent to you?”

“This is not about you,” Boca said flatly, rising up to a sitting position.

Chiang laughed harshly at her denial. How many arguments over bonding had there been between them? He had lost count weeks ago.

“You visit the Creators yet come back with a lie still on your tongue. No wonder Zade doubts you,” he said.

“I am not lying to anyone. I did not lie to her. Yes, I want you. I just don’t want to want you. This is my right. I wish to control my own destiny, not have it dictated by some entity—or my own weaknesses,” Boca declared. “We have had this conversation before. Why do you torture me by making me repeat myself?”

Chiang rolled up to face her. “Because I thought you were
dead
. I was afraid I would never know the sweetness of ….” He broke off his tirade for a round of Greggor swearing. “This is madness, and I am the one losing his mind the most,” Chiang said, pushing back his hair.

“What you are feeling is not my fault,” Boca said firmly.

A loud sound both of them heard erupted from him. Then he climbed to his knees and climbed over her legs, effectively pushing her back down to the mat with the force and breadth of his body, which was almost twice the size of hers.

“We may both die on Lotharius. Has that crossed your mind? Then what good will all this fighting have done for us? You don’t even know what you’re refusing. The Creators are right. I am a gift. No other male would suffer your reluctance and still want you so desperately.”

Boca stared up at Chiang, thinking any moment she was going to push him off her, but when he lowered his body onto hers, all she did was whimper from how good his weight felt on her. “My body betrays my mind. This is why I do not trust the physical side of any relationship.”

Chiang rolled against her, keeping most of his weight on his hands. “You wanted me this morning. I think you still want me now.”

“Bonding is not the answer to every problem, nor is it mandatory in every relationship,” Boca declared, hissing when he rolled against her again. She felt his desire for her rising hard.

“If you have truly changed your mind since this morning, say no now. Say it loudly and emphatically. If you don’t refuse quickly enough, you might have to kick my disrespectful Greggor ass, as your trainer would say,” Chiang threatened, feeling the quivers of arousal through her robe. “I know you want me.”

Ignoring the trepidation in her distrustful gaze, Chiang lowered his mouth to hers and then simply took what he needed. When her lips parted beneath his, he was so relieved that he didn’t know who was shaking the hardest. He thanked the Creators that Boca really did still live. He withdrew from her mouth to put his forehead against hers.

“Lasaţi-ma in tine,”
Chiang pleaded
. “Aici. Acum. Cu Zeii vizionarea peste noi.”

“Chiang—you’re speaking in Greggor. I don’t know what you’re saying,”
Boca complained.

Instead of begging her to bond with him again in English, Chiang reached under Boca’s robe and spread her legs until he fell between them. Then he rocked again there, showing her just how much he desired entrance to all she was, showing her just how desperate he had become to join himself to her.

“There are no words in any language to convince you of how right this is. I am done with words, except these few…you made the right choice about which part of your body to keep clothed. The rest I’m taking as my answer. I need to be inside you.”

Boca gripped his shoulders hard, pressing fingertips into muscles that flatly refused to give under her grip. “Bonding will change nothing between us.”

“
Iti place sau nu, acum sunt ale mele
,” he said firmly, staking his claim in Greggor because he knew she would only resist more to hear in English that he considered her his. But he was definitely looking up how to say it in Sumerian, first chance he got tomorrow.

Chiang stopped rocking and reached for the top of her robe, ripping the fasteners down the front in his haste while Boca gasped over his actions. She might be appalled, but no more than he was over the fact that she wore next to nothing under it.

“Your pathetic state of dress disturbs me. I hate that you are forced to wear clothing that does not fit well. You kept your medical tunic on. Wear the rest of your own clothes next time you meditate. And do not undress in front of the Siren again.”

“You cannot tell me what to do,” Boca declared fiercely. “And bonding will not grant you that privilege.”

“Perhaps not, but bonding might make me feel more civilized, and less inclined to kick some naked Siren ass. Since I’m obviously insane enough to risk your wrath in every other way just to have a taste of you, now I’m willing to risk the rest. Give yourself to me, Boca Ador,” Chiang ordered. “And I didn’t say it only in Greggor this time.”

Boca swore at him in Sumerian, so he rocked against her again in retaliation, grateful for the thick mat beneath them because her bare backside on the cold metal floor would not have stopped him.

To allow her to keep the clothing from their bargain, he shoved anxious, needy hands up under her tunic, fingers raking the hygiene straps from her body. Sighing, he closed quivering hands over her naked breasts at last, diving into her mouth when she arched up into his palms offering another keening moan like she had last time he’d touched her intimately.

He rocked against her again then, feeling the energetic connection leaping back and forth between them like the ship’s engines did when firing in sequence. The heat of her called to him to complete their connection.

He tore himself away from her mouth and put his forehead on hers, connecting their sixth chakras so they could see the truth of each other. Chiang thought this one moment of sanity was probably all he had left in him.