Page 15 of Shielded Heart

Drakkal’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Stop acting like a child and you won’t trigger my maternal instincts.”

Though he struggled to keep a straight face—there was too much going on in his head for him to be standing here quipping back and forth with Drakkal, too many emotions he didn’t understand enough to sort out—Arcanthus couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Drakkal. Any sensible employer would’ve fired you ages ago.”

“You can’t fire me, Arcanthus.”

“And it irks me to no end that you’re aware of it.”

Smirk fading, Drakkal lowered his arms. “Keep me in the know, all right? That’s all I’m asking. It’s not safe for you to go wandering the streets like that.”

“All right, Mother. I will endeavor to make better decisions in the future.”

“One day you’ll give me a serious answer, and I’ll drop dead in shock.”

Arcanthus and Drakkal walked deeper into the compound—Arc’s holdings spanned several blocks and buildings, all interconnected by various tunnels and passages—and eventually parted ways.

As he entered the workshop, Arcanthus removed his robe and tossed it aside. He glanced down at his body before he sat; the scars around the edges of his surgically implanted cybernetic sleeves were as prominent as ever, the result of the hasty patch job that had saved his life ten years ago. Even with all that time to adjust, it still felt strange when he stopped andlooked, when he let himself think about how his body just…endedat those points. That what existed past those scars—though connected to him in every way that mattered—wasn’treallyhim at all.

Those thoughts led to thoughts of the Inner Reach Syndicate as he sat at his desk—the conglomeration of criminal organizations that based itself on Caldorius and extended its fingers even into Arthos. Every decision he’d made in the last ten years had taken the Syndicate into consideration; every move had been calculated to keep him out of their notice, even as his reputation in the Infinite City’s criminal underbelly had spread and grown. All his security measures existed to keep them away.

Why hadn’t he thought about them a single time when he’d decided to seek out Samantha and follow her? Why hadn’t he realized the risk and abandoned the foolish whim before he’d pursued it? He’d even given her a means of contacting him directly—only Drakkal and a few of his most trusted guards, people he’d worked with foryears, had his commlink ID.

“Shemustbe my mate,” he said as he prepared his screens. “Either that, or I’ve been too long without a female’s touch.”

He had work to complete—he was the foremost creator of false identification chips in Arthos, and both his reputation and his business relied upon him delivering on his obligations—but he instead found himself scouring the plexus for information on terrans—their culture, their biology, theireverything.

At some point, he brought up the copy of Samantha’s file he’d taken from the Consortium’s database. He read through the information several more times, though it provided him little insight into her. She was from a planet calledEarth, the terran homeworld. No criminal history, no background in government or military—not much documented history at all. His shy little terran was something of an enigma.

His flicker of disappointment was fleeting; it would be exceedingly more satisfying to learn about her directly, to coax out every bit of who she was from between her pink lips.

He’d wanted so badly to kiss her for the brief time he’d had her in his arms. The feel of her against him, of her heat radiating into his chest, had been exquisite, and the soft, inadvertent brushes of her lips against his skin had nearly been his undoing. And yet his main drive had been to comfort her, to lift her spirits, to take away her pain. That he didn’t think he’d succeeded in that goal was maddening.

Arcanthus’s attention returned to the hologram of her face. Her expression, captured forever in the Consortium database, seemed only more apt now—she was out of her element, desperate to find her place but unsure of how to go about it. How simple would it have been to offer her a position in his own organization? He could’ve maintained a semblance of legitimacy and legality at least for a little while as he eased her into the true nature of his business, and he would have known she was safe and provided for in the meantime.

His third eye dipped to the options beneath her holographic face, lingering on the one that would pull up the full body scans that were standard for every citizen of the Infinite City. They hidnothing.

He lifted his hand and extended his index finger but stopped himself before moving it forward. Just the thought of seeing what was hidden beneath her baggy, shapeless clothing was enough to send a rush of heat to his groin. Yet what would it accomplish? What would a peek do other than silently break the bit of trust he’d built with her?

Why look now when he would eventually see her flesh directly, with his own eyes? That was the real prize, that was the real thrill. Holograms could not compare.

That inevitable moment when she finally gave herself over to him, when she finally revealed her body to him of her own accord,thatmoment would be special beyond words. It was a moment worth waiting for.

The anticipation alone would add such a thrill to the ultimate reveal that it would be foolish not to wait.

He dropped a hand to his crotch and pressed it over his slit. Despite the restraint of his under wrapping, his cock struggled to emerge, creating a pulsing ache in his pelvis. He leaned forward in the chair to tighten the cloth again. The relief provided by the extra pressure was minimal.

Moving her file to one of the side screens, he took a few minutes to check through the security feeds from around the compound and its various entrances—there was a separate entry correlating to each of the eight forger aliases he used, identities separate from those he cycled through on his own ID chip. Everything seemed quiet; the streets of Nyssa Vye—the Undercity’s largest black-market sector—were as busy as ever, but the traffic flowed past the discreet entrances without anything suspicious to catch his eye.

Satisfied, he moved Samantha’s file back to his primary display, dismissing everything but her holographic image. Leaning back in his chair, he propped an elbow on the armrest and settled his chin on his hand. He stared into her dark eyes. Faint tingles flowed along hisqal.

The longer he stared, the clearer it became that he would not be able to ignore his body’s needs any longer. He lowered his hand again, loosening his under wrapping. His cock slid free.

He released a groan and curled his fingers around the base of his shaft. “You’ll know soon enough, Samantha…you’re mine.”

Four

After patching up her cuts and scrapes with the first-aid kit in the bathroom, Samantha had gone to bed. Her sleep had been disjointed; she’d tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position thanks to the aches racking her battered body. As if her many bruises weren’t enough, her mind raced with a thousand what-ifs.

What if she wasn’t strong enough to make it here? What if she never found work? What if she ran into that gang again while she was alone?

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