Page 47 of Clan and Command

Piras froze as soon as Kila spoke Lidon’s name. The bastard knew everything now. The excitement of the Nobek’s voice and touch ebbed as hurt and shame edged in.

Kila grabbed his cocks, fondling him with rough attention. Lust surged again, washing away the hesitation but not the pain. Piras was caught between the two.

Kila said, “You can’t have him. You don’t need him. Say it, Piras.”

Piras shook his head. He didn’t want this conversation. Not with Kila. Not with Kila’s hands on him, ripping him from the old, familiar grief. “You don’t understand. All the years I put in, all the wasted time—”

“Is that why you can’t give up what is over? Because you gave him sixteen years of your life? Is that any reason to waste more time on something that is never going to happen? No, Piras. I won’t let you.”

Agony tore from its moorings in his chest, barreling up his throat to tumble from his lips. “You’ve never been in my place. To have someone for years and then another man comes and snatches him away in a moment. Leaving you with nothing but dead dreams.”

“No, I haven’t. But no matter how much it hurts, it’s done with Lidon. It’s over, and you have a choice to make, right here, right now. You can keep drifting in the dream that was never going to come true, or you can live the real life waiting for you. I’m going to leave you here to think about it.”

A surge of panic overcame Piras. “Leave me? Where are you going?”

“Not far. You still need to sober up before we go any further, so it might be a while.” A heavy sigh filled Piras’s ear. “In the meantime, you have a lot of things to consider.”

Piras strained at the hovercuffs locking his arms in place. “I don’t like this. Let me go.”

A hot mouth covered his, shutting off his rising voice. Kila kissed him long and hard, swamping Piras with desire that temporarily eclipsed all fear and heartache. He pumped Piras’s cocks, making him hard and wet with need. The kiss was over far too soon. The exciting touch disappeared too.

The low thunder of Kila’s voice came from overhead. “Be a good boy, Piras. Sit right there with your thoughts. When I get back, we’ll see what you’ve come up with.”

Piras wanted the sorrow to come back. He wanted to be angry with Kila for leaving him aching and hard. Yet neither of those easier emotions would come. Instead, with awakened need foremost, his spirit cried to please the Nobek instead.

Not caring that he sounded desperate, he told Kila, “You can’t leave me like this.”

The voice was gentle but firm. “I am. Think hard about what I’ve said.”

“Kila, please.”

“If you want to have a chance, a real chance with a Nobek who can give you what you want and need, you’ll be right here when I get back. Let’s see if you’re ready for that life, Piras.”

Then silence descended, empty as the blackness before the Dramok’s eyes. Piras’s ears strained. Like all Nobeks, Kila was silent when he departed. Piras knew he’d gone because his musky scent lessened and then disappeared.

He pulled experimentally against the cuffs. In certain cases, he knew how to escape older versions of the manacles, and he was sure the set Kila used to play were an outmoded style. His straining discovered they’d not been affixed as tightly as they should have been. Piras thought he might be able to slip out.

It was not a mistake a Nobek of Kila’s experience and wisdom would make. Had he left Piras an easy out? Was it a test to see if Piras wanted what they might have together?

The man had set up two struggles for him. If Piras was willing to surrender to Kila, he would not break free of the manacles. He would face the task of deciding whether a future with the Nobek deserved a chance. He would determine whether he could put his past with Lidon to rest.

His choices were miserably simple. He could try again with another Nobek. He could attempt to make something happen with Kila. Or he could let the old, but somehow reassuringly familiar agony of losing Lidon continue to rule his life.

On the surface, it seemed an easy enough choice, one any intelligent man would make. Yet Piras was at war with himself. The angry part of him insisted he’d been cheated, that something important had been stolen from him. To give that up now felt like a great injustice. Where was the fairness? Where was the compensation for what he’d suffered?

His intellect knew there would never be a reparation. Even a part of his heart wanted him to give up the fight that had been lost years ago. It yearned for what Kila told him was possible. It wanted to heal in the security of the scarred brute’s embrace.

But a large portion still screamed that it was owed something for its losses. It screamed long and loud, trying to eclipse the sensible, hopeful portion in its agony.

Piras’s emotions tossed to and fro as he struggled with the verdict he must choose. The minutes ticked by, bringing him no closer to a choice. For the life of him, he couldn’t decide.

Chapter 15

Lokmi stepped off the conveyance and faced a door he’d never seen before, high up near the top of a sapphire-leafed tree. Before he could trigger the announce, the door opened. Kila, looking relieved to see him, stepped back and waved him inside the home.

“That was some summons you gave me, Captain,” Lokmi said, covering his confusion with light banter as he walked in. He took in a sparsely furnished greeting room, curiosity making him wonder at whose home he’d entered. If not for the numerous ship models lining the many shelves, he’d assume no one lived in the place.

He was attracted to the models. The Imdiko took a close look at the tiny replica of a Joshadan freighter and whistled with appreciation. “Wow. This is really good. So is this one,” he said, moving down to the next model. “Damn, they’re all great. Such intricate detailing. Someone’s a hell of a craftsman.”

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