Page 52 of Decadence

What is… that?

A strange, nightmarish machine stretched from his collarbone to the bottom of his ribcage, completely covering the left side of his chest. It was made from dull obsidian metal that molded perfectly to his body, and to her naked eye, it appeared to be welded to his smooth silver skin. Slender black tubes swayed in the fluid like tentacles, creeping across his body, along his chest, and up his neck. At his jawline, they coalesced to form a mask that covered the lower part of his face, presumably delivering oxygen to his lungs.

It struck her that he was perfectly naked. Unable to help herself, she studied his body in mute fascination.

Stripped of his dark uniform, the chiseled perfection that had always been hinted at was now undeniable. His torso and limbs were perfectly honed; muscular and without even a trace of fat. A curious constellation of scars decorated his body; some were nasty and jagged, while others appeared to be deliberately etched in intricate patterns.

As she stared at his big, graceful hands, she realized that long black claws extended from his fingertips, curving menacingly.

With his luminous silver skin and wild hair and scar-marked body; with the black metal implants burrowing beneath his skin and stretching across his face, he looked like some sort of dark alien techno-god in the midst of a centuries-long slumber.

Sienna shuddered. As much as she appreciated Ikriss’s protectiveness and relished his intensity, she couldn’t help the strange tumult of emotions that coursed through her.

She felt fascination and sadness and worry and arousal and unease, all at the same time. The sight of the dark metal tentacle-things triggered a primal fight-or-flight reaction similar to what she might experience if she came across a dangerous spider or a venomous snake.

Her palms became clammy.

Her heart hammered.

Fragments of memories flashed through her mind; of a faceless Ephrenian torturer and the feeling of crushing hopelessness and blinding pain.

She became acutely aware of her humanness; more so than ever before.

But how could she waste time feeling sorry for herself when Ikriss was in such a bad way?

Ruthlessly, viciously, she pushed the awful feeling away, putting it into a tiny box at the back of her mind; separating it from her consciousness.

You can not afford to get caught up in this crap right now.

“He is a proud Aikun male.” A deep voice reverberated from behind, making her jump. “Those of us who follow the ways of the Lost Tribes do not welcome such interference in nature’s will, but he has served the Empire for long enough that he is used to it by now, and he would much rather live than die. Still, he would not wish for you to see him like this; chained to this machine against his will.”

She whirled around. “Then why did you bring me here?” Anger surged through her. She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. She was angry at them on Ikriss’s behalf—for ignoring his wishes. She was angry at her own helplessness.

“Well, you asked to see him, did you not?” The speaker raised a silvery eyebrow.

Sienna opened her mouth… and then closed it again, swallowing her words as she took stock of the Kordolian that stood before her.

Her brusque guards had retreated into the background. Semi-invisible, they watched impassively from the shadows.

Sienna found herself face-to-face with yet another Kordolian male. This one possessed crimson eyes and hard features. He wore nothing to distinguish himself from the others; no markings, no insignia, just a simple black robe over loose trousers.

And yet somehow, she knew he was the boss of this entire fucking operation. The so-called General.

Just like Ikriss, he radiated quiet power. A strange sensation washed over her; she got a weird urge to salute or bow or do something to acknowledge his authority. Why did she get the feeling this guy could either crush her like a cockroach or make her the most protected species in the entire fucking universe?

“You’re him,” she blurted.

“Indeed,” the alien rumbled, a trace of amusement in his voice. “And you are the one that has caused my commander all this trouble.”

“It wasn’t by choice.”

“These sorts of things rarely are.”

“What’s going to happen now? Will he…?”

“Survive? Of course he will. He is as hard a fighter as any of us. Death has stalked him many times before. Having said that, he would have almost certainly died if not for my medic and his arcane skill with machines.”

A deep sigh escaped Sienna’s lips. “So he’ll live. I’m relieved. But will there be any long-term effects?”

---