Page 13 of Clan and Command

“Most of my breed carries that load in every aspect of their lives. And they love it. But for me – it’s a burden. One I can’t avoid, one I can’t live without, but a crushing weight nonetheless. I get tired, but I can’t let go of being in control.”

“Except in this one thing. Sex is where you give yourself the break you need.”

Piras nodded. He couldn’t have told another Dramok such things. He’d never heard of another member of his breed needing to let go of dominance for any reason. Yet it was that way for him. When it came to intimacies, Piras couldn’t summon the will to lead. Somehow the responsibility of figuring out the pleasure owed to another person was more than he could face. It was too much effort on top of everything else that drove him forward.

He told Kila, “If you want a lover who will fight to control you, to give you the pleasure of surrendering yourself, you’ve come to the wrong man. I cannot offer you that.”

“Is that why Nobek Lidon left you for Admiral Tranis?”

Piras stopped breathing. His whole body felt as if it had turned to stone. Something in his skull buzzed as he replayed Kila’s voice speaking Lidon’s name.

Rage flared, searing all sense. Piras didn’t run from it. He threw himself into it, taking shelter within the blaze to hide from the hurt of that loss. As he had so many times before.

Between clenched teeth, he snarled, “Get the fuck out of my home. Fuck the mission. Fuckyou. Fuck you!”

“Bullseye, huh?” Kila’s tone was lazy.

Piras took a step back, shaking with humiliated fury. He needed to get out of arm’s length of the Nobek. Not because he feared Kila. Not for one second. Now that he was seething, he had only one thing to fear: what he might do to the other man.

Hanging on by a thread, Piras said, “Get out or you’ll see the fight you want. I’ll fling your useless carcass off the balcony.”

Kila eyed him with wary interest. He stared at Piras as if he’d reached to pet a caged zibger only to realize the cage door was wide open. Piras saw him through a red-tinged haze. The last of his control was fraying. His fists clenched.

Kila abruptly bowed. “As being tossed a hundred feet to the ground would no doubt ruin the rest of my night, I will leave. I’ll check back in with you at your office to hear of your decision regarding the mission. Will you be all right?”

“Go. Now.”

“Yes. I see that would be wise. Thank you for dinner. I’ll let myself out.”

Kila turned and walked into the home, the only way to reach the stairs or motorized conveyance that would let him out. Not quickly, but at a purposeful pace. Piras counted off the seconds, giving Kila time to leave the house. Then he went through each room, making sure the Nobek had indeed departed. There was no sign of Kila.

Piras went back out to the balcony, feeling too closed in despite the spaciousness of his home. He stood near the outer wall, drawing deep breaths, trying to calm down. It didn’t work. He stayed riled, ready to tear something apart.

He suddenly pivoted, driving his fist against the wall with a thunderous roar ripping from his throat. Familiar pain exploded, reverberating up his arm. It did the trick, however. The worst of the anger bled from him in an instant, giving him peace.

He relished the throbbing ache as he looked at his knuckles, scarred from many such demonstrations. Damaging himself was a poor outlet for his rage, but Piras had come to terms with many of his idiosyncrasies. Though he submitted for sex, he was still a Dramok in every other respect. Nothing drove his breed crazier than not being able to exert control. The frustration had to be spent somehow.

The fact that Kila knew about Lidon was very much out of Piras’s control. That he’d guessed Piras’s sexual inclinations had a lot to do with why their relationship had failed was a source of profound embarrassment. And there wasn’t a damned thing Piras could do about that.

He licked a drop of blood from one knuckle. Far better to punch walls than commit murder because he couldn’t dictate what others did. Though in Piras’s opinion, Kila deserved to be pitched off a balcony. He had no business nosing into Piras’s personal affairs. No business pretending he cared anything about Piras’s past. Or cared about anything to do with Piras.

“Fucking Nobeks. To hell with the whole breed.”

Chapter 5

Back on the destroyer, Kila stalked through the corridors, trying to walk off his emotions. Fortunately for his crew, most were off the ship and still enjoying shore leave. The halls were close to empty. The few who walked them gave their captain a wide berth, recognizing his foul mood in the savage smile he wore. They bowed and hurried on without saying a word.

They were wise to keep their distance. Kila’s anger was all for himself, but he would have enjoyed taking his temper out on someone else. He’d fucked up and needed someone or something to punch. Desperately.

If he’d been smart, he’d be enjoying Piras’s beautiful ass right now. Ah, that sweet, warm ass. A snug ass to sink his cock into. An exceptionally willing ass, one that would welcome any kind of play he would care to introduce it to. But no, he’d mentioned the man’s ex-lover and gotten himself thrown out instead.

Kila believed in thinking positive. He tried his best to turn bad situations around, to see the benefit in even the darkest occurrence. Even now his mind was turning over what had happened, attempting to mine gold in the mountain full of shit his big mouth had created.

For one thing, he now had important information. Piras was not over that other Nobek. Kila had asked if there was baggage, and the ex-lover certainly qualified. The raw pain and anger Piras had exhibited when Kila spoke Lidon’s name had been an eye-opener. In that moment, the same man who freaked out over the mere idea of killing others had been damned near capable of murdering Kila.

That left the question, what was Kila going to do about it?

If he had any sense, he’d give up any idea of forging a relationship with Piras. Someone that hung up on the past could not offer any future. Only a fool would pursue someone who’d already given his heart away.

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