Page 102 of Fractured Souls

She watched the true brutality of this dark alien race in detached horror.

But there was a small, secret part of her that exulted in the victory, in the complete and utter domination of their foes.

Because Anuk had taught her what the Acolytes of Malku were, and she decided there was no place for them in this new Tharian world.

Nythian stood beside her, a dark monolith encased in obsidian, his expression unreadable behind that menacing helm. He looked out of place in this sun-kissed world, where everything came in shades of red and golden and pink, where Tharians drifted from consciousness to shared consciousness, becoming greater than the sum of their parts.

She understood it now… a little. The entire species was a living record, as close to enlightenment as one would ever get.

Once, the Tharians had been powerful and ruthless, in command of the most advanced technology the Nine Galaxies had ever seen.

They’d conquered planets. Their population had numbered in the trillions.

She shuddered. They’d even set foot on Earth. Remnants of Tharian occupation could be found beneath the golden sands of…

Shit.

She didn’t know the human name for that place, only the Tharian one.

It didn’t matter anyway.

It was all gone now.

They’d destroyed each other, destroyed their home planet.

She looked up at Nythian, who hadn’t said a word.

She understood him now too… a little.

He belonged in darkness, amongst Callidum-reinforced machines and formidable Kordolian discipline and the shadows of a fallen Empire.

He was what he was, but he was also the sweetest, gentlest, sexiest creature she’d ever known.

“Big crazy-ass Kordolian,” she blurted, suddenly wanting to jump into his arms and drown in his presence. “You know I love you, right?”

He inclined his head a fraction, still not saying anything, looking perfectly cold and alien, setting her damn heart aflutter with his intimidating-ness.

Then his exo-armor started to melt, revealing his silver chin, his strong jawline, those full, sensual lips, a flicker of his sharp fangs…

“What are you doing?” she whispered in alarm, knowing full well that the harsh ultraviolet light would burn his silver skin.

His one weakness was her strength. The sunlight would never bother her; she had melanin in spades.

Still Nythian didn’t speak. He just leaned in and kissed her, his lips hot and demanding, his tongue seeking hers.

She tasted his sweetness.

She closed her eyes as he surrounded her in a powerful embrace, returning his kiss with such ferocity that she elicited a deep, primal growl.

The warm desert wind whipped around them. Below them lay death. Above was the endless blue sky.

They could have been on Earth.

He kissed her some more, his hands slipping down her body, caressing her waist, her hips, her thighs.

Then he gently broke away. His skin began to discolor as the sunlight hit it, turning deep grey.

Nythian’s smile disappeared underneath a swarm of nanites. “Couldn’t help myself,” he growled. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He ran his fingers over her cheek, his thumb lingering over her lower lip, tugging on it slightly.

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