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KND Romance of The Week Free Excerpt Featuring Deidre Knight’s Parallel Attraction – 40 Rave Reviews!

Last week we announced that Deidre Knight’s Parallel Attraction is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded Parallel Attraction, you’re in for a real treat:

4.0 stars – 53 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Enter New York Times bestselling author Deidre Knight’s time-bending universe of warring worlds, intimate betrayals, and unspent desire with the first installment of her Parallel series.

An unexpectedly sensual connection…Finding a mate is the farthest thing from alien warrior Jared Bennett’s mind. After years of exile on Earth, the king is close to developing a weapon that will alter the fabric of time and hopefully bring peace to his own people. But a chance encounter with scientist Kelsey Wells ignites a scorching desire far more consuming than talks of rebellion.

To Kelsey, Jared’s heritage is exotic and alarming – nothing like the logical, scientific facts of her own world. But despite her fears, she can’t deny the heated response of her body every time the magnetic leader comes near.

A dangerous allure…

As the bond between them grows, Jared struggles with a shocking family secret that keeps him from claiming Kelsey as his own. And a visitor from the future escalates Jared’s battle for his people’s freedom to a fever pitch, forcing the lovers to face one inescapable fact: Time can save them, as much as it can destroy them.

*The Parallel Series was originally released as the Midnight Warriors series. Kindle editions now include updated scenes and bonus material!*

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

Prologue

 

It wasn’t every day you managed to lose your king while on a security mission to an alien planet. In fact, it took a spectacularly large amount of bad luck, but Councilor Aldorsk couldn’t say that he was surprised by the current turn of events. Not after the recent series of impetuous royal decisions, all of which had indirectly led to this moment. Every Refarian gathered on the ship’s deck was concerned for the king’s welfare, voicing fears they all harbored—but rarely vocalized. What if he dies? What if he’s captured? These were the same fears that plagued the king’s leadership back home on a daily basis.

Before them all—and in the midst of an argument of colossal proportions—the king had shape-shifted into a ball of glowing energy in order to slip through the floor and to the exterior of the ship without being apprehended. By now the young leader had certainly arrived on Earth, returning to his physical form. He might even be hiking into the nearby mountains, never to return.

The young monarch’s energy had left a vibrant trailing pattern on the grooved floor, finally vanishing in the exact spot where the king had last stood. The transport’s captain stared at the floor along with Aldorsk. “I don’t think there’s any structural damage,” the man assessed dubiously.

Standing beside Aldorsk was his fellow councilor, Elder Graeon. “I don’t think this”—Graeon hesitated, squatting down to inspect potential damage to the craft—”is such a good idea, allowing our king to venture to the planet’s surface alone.”

“He will be fine,” Aldorsk insisted.

It was the ship’s captain who spoke next. “If you don’t mind my saying so, the king seems quite agitated lately.” He pointed down at the floor, which was still glowing with their monarch’s energy shadow. “Are you certain he’s ready for this mission?”

“He’s on Earth now, Captain,” Aldorsk reminded sharply. “Therefore the mission is already engaged.”

“He’s unsteady,” Graeon answered in a quiet voice, rising to his feet again. “I am concerned.” His long black hair was tied neatly at his back, but several light strands of silver betrayed his impending maturity. All Refarian males turned silver-headed once their fertile years had ended. “He seems to grow more impulsive with every passing day.”

“You know the reason for that,” Aldorsk reminded him seriously. “You can hardly fault him for that which he does not understand in himself.”

“We must be very protective at this time of his awakening.”

Aldorsk grew thoughtful. “True, the changes in his young body are very complex, all the more because of his dual nature. Of course he’s agitated. He hardly understands his transformation—much less that it’s natural for his kind.”

Graeon worked an eyebrow. “Perhaps he should consult you, Councilor. You guided his father through his own first season.”

Aldorsk smiled. “I think you know our king well enough to realize that no questions will be forthcoming on this matter.”

The other elder persisted: “His first mating cycle is imminent, surely—”

Aldorsk lifted a hand. “He must find the way on his own.”

“At fifteen, he’s already fertile.”

“Almost sixteen,” Aldorsk corrected. “What do you propose? That I urge him to take a mate so soon? He must be given time, even in the midst of war.”

“It is dangerous to wait,” Graeon argued. “Without any clear successor, the line remains in jeopardy.”

Aldorsk sighed. “It was dangerous to make this journey at all. At what point must we advise the king to remain at the palace? Hidden?”

“Coming here was not my choice,” Graeon reminded his council leader.

“No, it was our lord’s.”

“Perhaps he should not be allowed to make every decision until the succession is secured.”

“Elder Graeon!” Aldorsk cried. “You must silence yourself. Our king is our commander.”

Graeon’s dark face flushed, his mouth tightening. “I love our king, as you well know, both as friend and as leader. But I worry much about his future.”

Yes, they all worried about the future, of the Refarian ruler, who at the moment was the very last in line after more than a thousand years of unbroken succession. But perhaps, at least just for now, they should be more worried that the king had arrived on an alien planet under the early influence of his first mating season.

 

The guy on the path ahead was up to no good, clearly. He had a sample bag in one hand, and some sort of utensil in the other, and that spelled one thing for sure— illegal researcher.

“Are you taking soil samples?” Kelsey called out, though she was still a good twenty feet away from the man. She might only be fourteen (well, almost), but she felt pretty fierce and protective when it came to Yellowstone. Too many people came to the park each summer and abused the place, so her mother had taught her to be friendly but tough when she found someone doing something stupid or potentially dangerous. When she and her family spent their vacation camping in the park, like they were doing this week, she always made a point of keeping an eye on what tourists were doing, reminding them to respect the land like she’d always been taught to do.

Not that she hadn’t just spent the entire morning hiking around Mirror Lake collecting her own rock and soil samples, but the point was, she knew how to be responsible about it. Whereas the tall, dark-haired guy on the path ahead of her, on the other hand, looked like—no, had to be—the sort who would cart truckloads of illegal samples out of the park. When she got five feet away from him, she called out again: “You’re not allowed to take samples out of here without permission.”

He leaped to his feet and spun to face her, saying nothing. And when his mysterious, wide-set eyes met hers, she realized he wasn’t much older than she herself was.

She lifted her chin, ignoring the way his dark-eyed gaze affected her. “You’ve gotta have a permit,” she explained, drawing in a breath. “Can’t take anything out of here without one.”

The boy worked his jaw for a moment, and finally dropped his hands to his sides, the apparent samples falling to the ground. “Just… studying,” he answered awkwardly, the words accented. Was he Russian? He almost sounded like it. Just shtudeeing.

“Where are you from?” she asked, stepping closer to him. She had a small backpack thrust over one shoulder, with loads of her own rock and soil samples neatly labeled inside. Only she would never dream of removing anything from the park without express permission, which she’d obtained only once before—for last year’s science fair.

When he didn’t reply, she eyed him warily. “You’re not one of those prodigies from the Thorpe School, are you?” Thorpe always beat her own high school at the fair, year after year. It would be totally like them to import some genius to their team just to dominate yet again.

“Just”—he smiled, making her stomach flip-flop with butterflies—”stranger.”

“Do you speak in full sentences?” she asked with a playful toss of her curly hair. Guys liked her long, dark-auburn hair, that’s what she’d always heard.

He folded his arms over his chest, looking very much like a guy who was used to getting his way. “Sometimes.”

“But not now?”

“Not now.” The big smile he gave her made the flip-floppy thing in her stomach go even wilder. And the butterflies, well, they made her feel bold. It was weird, but true. Yeah, he had a seriously amazing smile, all right, with perfect white teeth that stood out against his dark skin. He didn’t look Russian, more like someone from Iran or Israel or Greece. Italy. Actually, come to think of it, he didn’t look like any exact nationality she could pinpoint. Plus, the outfit was just a little bit funky—he had on knee-high boots of dark leather, and over that he wore a sort of tunic thing down to his knees, made of a simple linen material, with a long-sleeved shirt underneath.

“Where are you from? Really?” She dropped her pack to the ground. “You sound Russian.”

He gave her a guarded look. “Very far from here.” Vairry fahr fvrom heare.

“But where?”

“It is not important.”

“Maybe it’s important to me,” she said with a laugh, but he only gave her a look of confusion.

“Okay, forget that. I’m Kelsey Wells.” She stuck her hand out and he clasped it in his own with warm confidence—and then released it a fraction too quickly, as if unaccustomed to shaking hands.

He said nothing else, so finally she prompted him: “What’s your name?”

“Some call me Jareshk.”

“So, Jareshk, you’re, like, eastern European, is that it?” He only gave her a blank look in return, and after tossing out a few other possibilities, she finally said, “Okay, I give up. But only for a little while.”

If Kelsey Wells was any indication, humans were a highly persistent and curious people, prone to seeking the truth at all costs. So far this reconnaissance had led Jareshk to one conclusion: He liked her species very much. Her clear, truthful eyes made him want to admit everything about his mission here on her planet. An unwise choice, perhaps, but with her relentless questions he had no doubt he would soon reveal his identity—or be forced to leave. And he definitely did not wish to leave Kelsey Wells, not quite yet. She brought out strange feelings inside of him. Pleasurable, electric feelings.

“Want to see the samples I found?” She climbed atop a large boulder beside where they stood on the wooded path, and began to spread the rocks out. “Here,” she encouraged him, eyes alight with excitement. “Come on and I’ll show you.”

As she instructed, he settled opposite her so that they sat nearly knee-to-knee atop the boulder. He wished he weren’t wearing the tall boots and his shashar robe; if he were dressed like she was, he’d be feeling her warm skin against his own. As if reading his mind, she reached out a tentative hand and touched his right boot “You must be really hot in that outfit.”

“It suits me,” he lied, feeling the midday sun beat down on him. The ship had been much cooler than her planet’s surface.

“Yeah, I guess. If you’re a Ren Fair escapee.” She waved at his long robe and tunic. “Couldn’t you at least take… well, the top part off? It’d be less hot.”

She had no idea how her innocent suggestion caused his royal blood to boil. He’d turned fifteen almost a year ago, and he’d heard the elders whispering about him ever since. They spoke in heated whispers about his line’s propensity for early-age mating cycles. Blushing, he stared down into his lap; mating cycles were for animals, not kings.

But it wasn’t just the mating urges that were making him feel things for Kelsey. It was very odd indeed, but he ached to please her—to bow down before her as if she were the monarch, not he.

“All right.” He leaped to his feet, pulling the robe over his head. When he was finished, he stood before her wearing only his shirt and a pair of drakaer pants—like her shorts, but worn beneath the overtunic.

She studied him thoughtfully. “You know, that still just looks hot to me.” He swore he detected a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes as she muttered, “In a manner of speaking.”

He eagerly shrugged out of the shirt, then looked to see if she was satisfied.

She stared up at him, and her clear eyes grew wide at the sight of his bare chest. “Oh, good grief.”

Panicked, he folded both arms over his chest protectively. “What is it? Something… wrong?” He hadn’t even considered the possibility that his body might appear different from the male of her own species.

“Nothing,” she practically squeaked, her face reddening as she made a big show of laying out her rocks for him to see—and of avoiding eye contact with him.

A slow smile spread across his face. It wasn’t that his body appeared alarmingly alien in some way. It was that she found him attractive… sensually pleasing. He froze for a moment, then released a long breath. It was as if that part of himself—the one that had been running too hot for months—finally clicked into place. He sat down opposite her again, keenly aware not only of his own bare chest, but also of her bare leg touching his.

“You have many rocks,” he said, hugging himself self-consciously. He felt naked, exposed—hungry for her, too, and the rushing confluence of all those feelings inside left him feeling shy and uneasy. “I-I do not know . . . way to describe their . . . beauty.” And he didn’t just mean the rocks, either; he longed for a way to express how beautiful he found her.

“It’s okay, Jareshk,” she answered with a genuine smile of empathy. It was as if she knew exactly what he was feeling. “Let’s just talk a while. Cool?”

No, he was not cool. He was the very opposite—his whole body was aflame, outrageously on fire in a way that barely enabled him to sit and gaze into her eyes. And yet he did. And they did talk, for hours and hours, it turned out, and every time she smiled at him, his heart fluttered like a bird’s wing in his chest. He only hoped that the awkward smiles he gave her in return disguised the unsettled trembling he felt inside.

By late afternoon, Jareshk had already begun to seem less like a friend to Kelsey, and more like a boyfriend, a fact that, weirdly enough, felt totally right. It helped that the more time they spent together, the better his English got. It was downright spooky, but he seemed really smart, so she pegged him as a super-fast learner and didn’t question him about his growing fluency. For hours, they hiked and talked; sometimes they found a spot along the lake where they just sat and watched the surface ripple in the wind. “Water at my home is not so clear as this. Not usually,” he told her solemnly.

“What do you mean?”

His face grew darker, sad. “Our… lakes, you call them? They are polluted by… war. Our enemies.”

“What war are you talking about? You should tell me where you’re from; it’s only fair.” She couldn’t help feeling angry that he wouldn’t reveal more about himself. She’d already talked about her dreams of being a geologist, how she might want to work for NASA one day… that her dad made her nuts when he bossed her around. What hadn’t she told him, really? “Come on, what gives? Where are you from?” she pushed.

“I don’t wish to burden you with heavy things.” He forced his mouth into a smile, only this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

Knowing she could get pushy sometimes if she wasn’t careful, she let her anger melt away. “I just want to know you,” she encouraged. “That’s all.”

“Thank you, Kelsey,” he said softly, and reached for her hand. Slowly, very gently, he threaded his fingers together with hers, and every part of her came more alive somehow.

They sat like that for a long time, with Kelsey’s body trembling and Jareshk holding her hand, until the day began to grow much cooler, and the sun tracked low on the other side of the mountains.

But Jareshk never said another word about his country or where he came from, or the mysterious war that seemed to threaten his home. And Kelsey decided to focus on the next few days, camping with her parents in Yellowstone, and the fact that Jarseshk would be there in the park, too.

On their last night together, Kelsey suggested that she sneak out of her family’s tent and meet him by Mirror Lake. It was late before she appeared there beneath the starless sky. He’d been growing restless, worried that he wouldn’t see her again before he had to return to the transport. Kelsey Wells did powerful, awakening things to him, things he’d never once experienced in his almost sixteen years. It was as if every time he so much as glanced at her, his cells burned brighter, or his powerful energy blazed stronger. Two days they’d spent together, but it might as well have been a year. He felt, on a very elemental level, as if he’d known her his whole life, been waiting for her somehow.

He had to return to the transport tonight; he’d avoided his elders long enough. He knew it, but just hadn’t come to terms with letting Kelsey go, even though their parting was inevitable. Her family would leave tomorrow anyway, and while so far he’d avoided her questions about where he lived, or when they might see each other in the future, he had much to reveal to her yet.

But for now, there were more immediate, earth-bound concerns, and they mostly revolved around a kiss. Both days he’d spent with her he’d longed to touch her. To feel her skin against his, to know what her hair would be like beneath his fingertips, and finally now, under cover of darkness, he felt free to make his move.

Kelsey smiled up at him. “I can’t believe I got away from my parental units. Sheesh, could the tent zipper have been any louder? Doubt it.”

Jared gave a short nod, focused on the real matter at hand. “I wish to touch you,” he blurted. “To kiss you.” He thrust his chest out. “It has become imperative that we kiss. Tonight. Now.” He stepped very close to her, but she shoved a palm against his chest.

“Where are you from, Jareshk?” she asked, preventing him from coming any nearer to her. “Really. ‘Cause you don’t talk like the guys in Jackson do, and I can’t kiss you if I don’t know. You keep not answering, and—”

He clasped her palm over his heart, holding it there. “I’m a visitor, like you.”

“Only I’m visiting from, like, an hour away.” She wriggled her hand free from his, frowning at him.

He glanced up at the dark, moonless sky. “It’s a bit farther to my home, yes.”

“My money’s still on Eastern Europe.”

If he told her the truth, it was unlikely he would get this kiss. But if he didn’t, it seemed equally unlikely. Besides, he wanted her to know him—truly know him.

He circled her, studying, calculating. The khaki-colored shorts she wore seemed no longer than his little finger. Her legs, on the other hand, seemed to go halfway to forever, all curves and shape, and just glancing at them made his pulse skitter. His whole body tightened, and he wondered if it was the result of these “cycles” he’d heard whispered about. Did he ache for Kelsey only because of something strange in his blood? Maybe humans didn’t think this way at all.

She gave a nervous laugh. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“You are a child,” he said, trying to argue with himself. He shouldn’t kiss her, she was too young, too human; yet he’d thought of little else for the past two days.

“Are you kidding? I’ll be fourteen in another few weeks.” She folded both arms across her chest, which only further emphasized her shapely—very un-childlike—breasts. She was a woman. Maybe not completely, not any more than he was a man, but she was becoming one, and every cell within his Refarian body screamed that he should kiss her.

His mouth went dry. Blood rushed in his ears.

“You’re practically the same age as I am! And you’re the one who said you wanted to kiss me in the first place. You’re leaving and I’m leaving, and I’ve never been kissed before”—she took another step closer—”and, well, I want you to be my first kiss. But it’s pretty simple. First, I want to know who you really are.”

“You do know me.”

“I mean, know who you really, truly are.”

Her wonderful smile spread across her face, and by All’s name, he had to kiss that mouth. He’d never been kissed either, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

“I do wish to kiss you.”

She gave a slight, encouraging bob of her head, the cascade of tight auburn curls bouncing as she did so.

Few touched him; few approached him—and certainly no one ever kissed the king. A droplet of rain fell on his cheek, but he ignored it, preparing for his bold move. He’d led troops into battle already; he could handle this simple thing. Yet the beating of his heart was worse than the night when Antousian brigade forces had cornered him in Trajsek.

Another few raindrops plopped against his face, but he brushed them away with the back of his hand. Now was the time. He bent low, seeking out her lips with his own mouth. Just a brush, a light feathering of touch. So warm, so soft as her mouth met his. He lifted his hands and gently tipped her face upward. He kept his eyes open, because he wanted to see her expression; she had her own eyes closed, giving herself up to him with perfect trust. On his planet, nobody trusted a near-stranger anymore. Only that was the confusing part: They weren’t strangers. Not now, not from the very beginning.

Closing his eyes, he grew more intent, searching out her mouth with his tongue. He felt her hands reach upward, around his neck, her fingers running through his hair. The kiss deepened, became hotter and deeper, and he closed his hand around her back, pulling her flush against him. Everything seemed to be swirling in around them; his power began to escalate, right in the core of his belly, and he shuddered, afraid of revealing himself. But he couldn’t break the kiss—he wouldn’t—even as his whirlwind of power gained momentum. A shifting and burning began in the center of his being until he almost shook with the raw power of the sensation.

He would never be able to stop the drumming in his veins and body, not with her—not ever. Thank the gods that she pulled away from him with a soft cry.

“What is that?” She lifted her clear blue eyes to meet his searchingly. He shook his head, feeling fuzzy and swimmy and so aroused, all at once.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She pointed upward, and as he followed with his eyes, more raindrops pelted him in the face. The transport had descended and was hovering directly overhead, silent and powerful. Purposed. He cursed in Refarian, then gazed back down at her. “It’s my transport. The elders have come to take me from here.”

She began to shake in his arms. “Elders? Transport. Oh, God.” She pushed out of his grasp. “You’re definitely a visitor, all right.” Her voice shook; her hands shook; her eyes became tinged with panic.

“I didn’t want to frighten you,” he said softly, following her backward steps intently. “Never. I wished only to keep you safe.”

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God, oh, God,” she babbled frantically, staring up at the strange aircraft hovering directly over their heads. “I can’t believe this. I just kissed you, and you’re an alien.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stopped pushing him away. “You’re going to go and never come back.” He saw tears glint in her eyes.

He drew her into his arms, hard and fast. “I will come back. I promise,” he insisted. Then the ship descended much closer in the blink of an eye, hovering just above them.

Her gaze traveled upward, and her shaking intensified. “You should have told me,” she whispered, pointing to the sky. “Who are they?”

“My people. They only want me,” he assured her. “They’re not here to hurt you. You know there’s no reason to be afraid of me, don’t you, Kelsey?”

“You would never hurt me,” she agreed, holding him even closer, as if wanting to root him to the very earth itself.

He paused long enough to bend down and kiss her full on the mouth again, this time much more boldly. With the elders bearing down on them, he knew what was coming next: separation. And he knew what they both wanted—more of each other. The transport moved in lower, locking in on them, and as he stared into her eyes one last time, he made a decision. He would have Kelsey Wells as his own. Here, now, someday, she would belong to him completely, and he would give all of himself to her.

With an upward glance he made a second decision.

“Let’s go,” he commanded her, just as he would any of his troops under direct threat. He grabbed her hand and began running into the woods, leading her away from his ship.

“Where are we heading?”

“Anywhere,” he said, breathlessly drawing her into the dark, away from those who would separate them.

They ran for long moments, stumbling through the midnight woods. “My parents are going to freak.” She laughed, and he tightened his grip around her hand.

“Please just run,” he instructed, pulling her with him until there was only forest around them, and the only thing visible over their heads was the dark treetops.

He stopped, breathing heavily as he stared upward to confirm their safety. His people couldn’t get a fix on his positioning now. “I was not yet ready to part from you.”

“But it’s time for you to go,” she answered, her voice heavy with sadness. “Isn’t it? Or they wouldn’t be here now.”

He would enter hyperspace later tonight, tunneling across the galaxies via an intricate network of wormholes and higher dimensions until he arrived home on Refaria in a matter of weeks. Thousands of light-years apart by her human comprehension, but not for his people, with their complex dimensional technology. “I will find you,” he promised. “I vow it, Kelsey.”

“I’ll just be a microscopic speck in your universe.” She stared toward the night sky even though above them were only the trees.

“Kelsey, there is a long-standing tie between our two worlds. I can’t tell you more now, but I promise you that I will return one day. By then, you will probably have loved many human boys.”

“That’s not true. It can’t be.”

He wasn’t king to her, just a male who she wanted…perhaps loved. Or could love. One day. “I want to show you something,” he whispered, an idea growing inside of him. “Something I want you to remember, no matter what.”

She nodded, and he noticed that she shivered, even as she stepped closer. If she was afraid, only that slight trembling in her body betrayed the fear. When she stood only slightly apart from him, he turned his right wrist over, allowing a silvery beam of light from his other hand to fall upon the bare skin. He felt the prickling of power, the spidery electricity of revelation—until, at last, his royal emblem appeared in the air, glowing and undulating in all its ancient mystery. It was the one sure proof of his lineage as king. He was the D’Aravni, the only living leader of his people, marked as sovereign from birth.

The bright, swirling mark moved in the air above his wrist, but Kelsey said nothing, only gaped at it. “That’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “You are so beautiful.”

Something strange stirred inside of him, something that frightened him a little, a rush of desire that he’d never felt before, not even during these past two days. It made his hands tremble, but he resolved to keep his emblem open until she’d seen enough.

“Can I touch it?” she asked.

The heat in his body escalated again, causing the tremors to increase. He swallowed. “Yes.”

She took a daring step closer, gingerly lifting her fingers to touch the shimmering, swirling mark of his power where it hovered in the air just above his wrist. First one finger, then another, until her whole hand skimmed over the surface of his energy, causing a thrill of desire to snake down his spine. Every time she touched his emblem, he felt it in his body. Everywhere. He gasped, allowing the mark to retract, pulling it back within his energy, and took hold of her. Without apology or thought, he kissed her again. His sweet, blessed human—he had to kiss her.

And Kelsey kissed him back; with everything inside of her, she opened to him, her tongue exploring his mouth, twining with his, her hands in his hair. She had to feel him—more of him—before he left her behind.

“Stop now,” came a commanding voice from the darkness, slightly accented, just like Jareshk’s. They sprang apart from each other, startled.

“My lord, you have made this difficult,” the man said from the shadows. He spoke English, as Jareshk did with her. As she stated at him, trying to make out his face, Kelsey’s heart thundered. What if this man wasn’t good like Jareshk? What if he was the scary kind of alien?

“Councilor Aldorsk, you interrupt without request.”

“We are overdue for departure, as my lord well knows.”

“Who is he?” she whispered under her breath, but Jareshk brushed past her, touching her arm lightly in reassurance.

“Elder, I will return to the ship when my time here is done.”

“You will return with me now, my lord.”

In the silvered shadows, Kelsey could see the older man bowing to Jareshk. She watched the discussion play out, terrified for her life, and just as terrified at the thought of never seeing Jareshk again.

“I obey and serve the throne, my lord. You are jeopardizing your safety and your life here with this . . . young theshta.” The man waved in her direction dismissively.

“Speak of her with respect.” Obviously theshta, whatever it meant, wasn’t very complimentary.

Again the man bowed, lower this time, placing a fist over his heart. “She is lovely, my king, and clearly kind to you, but your destiny beckons.”

King? Why did he just call Jareshk a king?

The man stepped out of the shadows, and although she flinched to realize he was walking toward her, his eyes, once revealed by the moonlight, were not unkind. In fact, they were filled with a surprising amount of sympathy, which was probably why she felt she should trust him. She had to trust him, in fact; it was very, very important that she do so. Just as it was critical for her to let him touch the crown of her head with his aged hands.

In the background, like some dim dream bobbing hazily on the horizon, she thought she heard Jareshk say something that sounded like, “Don’t.”

Why would he say that? she wondered sleepily. So heavy, so tired, so… ready to go home. What was she doing here? She glanced around, and was surprised to find that she was sitting on the shore of the lake. How had that happened? Last thing she remembered, she’d been falling asleep in the tent beside her mother, glad for those thick socks from Grandma Wells.

With a jerk of her head, she glanced in every direction: first across the water, then up at the Tetons. The early pinkish light of dawn had begun to color the horizon; their campfire was cold. How long have I been sitting here? she wondered with a shiver. It made no sense whatsoever.

She must have been sleepwalking, she told herself, standing up to brush off her hands. That had to be it. But as she glanced down at her palms, they seemed to shine; not much, just the faintest bit, as if she’d dipped them in Day-Glo paint, like she’d done while working on the homecoming float last year.

Hmm, she thought with only a sluggish amount of curiosity. Wonder how that happened? And then she stumbled back toward the tent, ready to sleep for a very long time.

“Councilor Aldorsk, I command you to desist.”

His mentor stared back at him, sadness in his aging eyes. “I must protect you, my king.”

Jared knew then that the chief elder would not obey.

“Please don’t,” Jareshk asked simply, beseeching Aldorsk with his eyes. In horror he’d watched as Kelsey’s memories of their time together had been wiped from her mind. If Aldorsk wiped his memories as well, he would never find his way back to her. It would be as if nothing had ever happened between them. Jareshk felt tears burning his eyes, and he paced the transport hallway. Must he be required to sacrifice even this? When he’d already given everything to serve his people? When his own parents had been murdered for the same throne?

He knew what would come next, felt the tendrils of his mentor’s power already reaching into his mind. “Don’t take her from me. Please, Aldorsk, I beg of you.”

The elder’s kind eyes grew pained. “Son,” he said, clasping his shoulder, “the memory jeopardizes your safety. It links you with her.”

“It was only a kiss.”

“A kiss that created a memory bond between you and this human.”

“Her name is Kelsey.”

“My lord,” his beloved councilor said, bowing, “there will be many young women . . . many kisses and far more than that. You are entering your first season; that’s all that you are feeling. We can make arrangements to help you through this cycle safely. To meet your needs—”

“Don’t talk to me about my season!” Jareshk roared. “I’ve not had such a thing. I will never cycle, not with someone of the council’s choosing.”

“Mating cycles are natural for your line, my lord. You know this, even if we’ve never discussed it openly.”

Jareshk’s stomach tightened with shame. “I will not cycle, not without Kelsey. I will never mate, not with any female other than Kelsey Wells.”

“She won’t be the last to catch your fancy.”

“She’s special,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I need to remember her—I must! I won’t be able to find her if I forget.”

“Your safety, my king, must always come first,” Aldorsk said, inclining his head even as he closed his power around Jareshk’s mind. “Forgive me, but you must forget.”

Jareshk wanted to argue, to protest that he knew it wasn’t his own safety, but rather the safety of the succession that the elders were so worried about. Oh, he wanted to cry out a great many things, but he could not seem to find his voice.

What had she looked like? Oh, gods, he couldn’t say. What color was her hair? No memory.

“Please,” he implored, locking his power of intuition around one image, the only one he could seem to hold fast to, as all the others sifted away from him like sand through his fingertips. But what was it? He could not even say for sure. “I…beg you not to take her.” He gasped, still seeking to lock on to something, anything that he could keep of her. There it was again! And this time he recognized the one image that Aldorsk couldn’t seem to touch: her graceful human hand caressing his royal mark; then came another, of her in his arms, kissing him. Except there was a problem: The kiss was like quicksand, impossible to grasp, falling from him. If he could just recall her name, her eyes, anything! Then he could keep the memory of her; it would be his, untouchable. Permanent. Pure. Aldorsk’s power tightened around his mind a second time, causing a flash of pain behind his eyes and a strange spasm of grief in his heart.

“There, my lord,” Aldorsk soothed softly, gazing into his eyes. He dropped his hands back to his sides. “There, you are well.”

“Am I?” Jareshk asked uncertainly, lifting a hand to his head. There was something precious he’d been trying so hard to remember. Wait—it was there, just below the surface, if only he could lay hold of it.

Aldorsk slipped one arm around his shoulder, walking him toward the transport elevator. “You will feel better once you rest, my king.”

“Yes, undoubtedly.”

“The trip to survey the mitres has been a heavy burden for you.” As always, genuine concern filled Aldorsk’s eyes. He’d been the closest thing to a father Jareshk had known since his own father’s murder almost six years ago.

Jareshk stepped into the lift, nodding politely toward Aldorsk, but a spark of an image in his mind’s eye made him stop the closing doors with his palm. A delicate hand, touching his mark. He never revealed his royal seal to anyone. That image was chased quickly by another, more startling one: He was kissing a woman with dark red hair. He had never kissed anyone.

Aldorsk stared at him expectantly. “My lord?”

Jareshk’s head felt fuzzy, as if his memories and thoughts were suddenly expanding far too much to fit inside his brain. Had he been thinking of something? He wasn’t even sure.

“I’m to bed,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve no idea what I was going to say.”

Then, like a butterfly flickering aimlessly on to its next flower, the memory of that kiss—that tender, stolen, unforgettable kiss—floated into the burning sun.

Chapter One

 

In the northern portion of the Teton Range stood a mountain as proud and immovable as the man whose revolution hid within its depths. In the grand scheme of the area, it seemed an unspectacular thing. Too small to interest climbers, too low to stand above its siblings in the region, the mountain’s jagged face rose, nevertheless, in simple defiance of its averageness. It had the countenance of a warrior, with craggy heights shaped by time and element. Concealing a network of tunnels and machinery, it was Jared Bennett’s most important base, crucial to the rebellion he housed within its shadow.

Today, Jared was inspecting one minuscule piece of that vast military framework, staring across a large hangar filled with a fleet of fighters his engineers had spent the past nine months testing. Sleek and black, the planes had moved stealthily along Earth’s surface in test flights that had taken his pilots from California to Japan and onward over to Europe, then back across the East Coast of this country they called their temporary home.

A hydraulic lift approached, sounding warning beeps as it backed up to one craft’s side. Jared’s engineers stood back, waiting, as always, for their commander’s approval. He mounted the steps, climbing upward toward the craft’s cockpit. For a moment, he appraised the plane’s design, appreciating its powerful styling.

“Tight little things, aren’t they?” Jared remarked to one of the engineers, running his fingertips over the dull black surface of the wing. His deep voice echoed off the hangar’s ceiling, which stood a good forty feet overhead.

His chief engineer stepped forward and smiled, obviously pleased with the praise. “We’ve worked hard on the design,” the man said, releasing the hatch with the flick of a switch on his handheld control. “Room for two, but still light enough to go long distances without refueling.”

Jared stared into the open cockpit, itching to take the craft out for a test. Even after some harrowing recent engagements, the fighter in him still needed to get off the ground again—and soon. He reached out an appreciative hand to stroke the buttery-soft leather of the pilot’s seat. “Comfortable too,” he said with an admiring nod.

From the cement floor below, Scott Dillon glared up at him, and he could read the warning that flared in his friend’s eyes: Don’t go getting any ideas, Commander. If his chief lieutenant had his way, Jared would never go up again, but that simply wasn’t an option. Not only did their strategy necessitate his involvement, he also refused to be grounded like some impotent figurehead.

Jared hoisted himself up onto the side of the craft, and was already planting one boot inside when his intelligence commander, Thea Haven, trotted across the hangar toward him. From the expression on her face, he could tell long before she reached him that there was a serious problem, and he swung back down to face her.

“The elders have gathered,” she announced, standing at ease after he returned her salute. “They’re calling you to chambers, sir.”

“The occasion?” He glanced across the hangar toward the darkened assembly room where he always met with his council. Nervousness shot through his heart; the elders never convened unless something truly serious warranted it.

Thea’s blue gaze darted toward Scott, and Jared had the sense that his two commanders had already discussed the matter. She seemed ready to tell him more, but then inclined her head respectfully. “Sir, they wait for you,” was all she said.

Jared took his place in the data portal, sliding into the throne-like chair, and immediately the sensory scan of his vitals began. First his cornea, the red filter light sweeping over both of his eyes. Then, as he flattened his palms on the electrode pads, he felt a slight tingling as his fingerprints and energy readings were verified. For an answering moment, there was only the quiet hum of data renewal, and he allowed his eyes to drift shut, fighting back the wave of anxiety that meeting with his council always evoked.

In the darkened chamber, the council members began to appear in a semicircle about him. Not literally—they were, of course, back on Refaria. But thanks to technology that accessed energy packets flowing through wormholes (which allowed them to move faster than the speed of light), he and the elders were able to interact in these chambers in real time, even across the vast distance that separated them. Reflexively his fingers tightened around the metallic arm of his chair. In turn, each elder made the traditional sign of respect: a slight bow, then one hand over the heart, a proud yet reverent stance. And he damned well hated it; he always did. Still, someone along the way—perhaps Scott, or maybe Thea, he wasn’t sure—had reminded him that the people needed the traditions, even if he did not require them. Even if he did not want them.

Once the full council had fully surrounded him, he shifted in his chair in an effort to make himself comfortable, then invited them to speak.

Aldorsk, the chief elder who had once advised his father, stepped forward into a clear beam of silvery light. “My lord,” he began, his voice scratchy as he spoke slowly in their native tongue: “I feel certain you know the reason why we gather today. Indeed, you must.”

Oh, indeed. He had hoped it wasn’t true, but the furtive glances between Scott and Thea had left him pretty damned sure. Scowling, he waved for the man to continue.

“With all respect, the council feels the need to remind our leader that he has no heir.”

“Your leader has no position,” he countered, crossing one long leg over the other uncomfortably. If they wanted to force him onto a throne, couldn’t they at least create one to accommodate his full height? “Your leader,” he reminded all eight of them, his voice curt, “helms a small, fractured rebellion on an alien planet.”

A hushed cry swept the room, heard even across the great intergalactic distance that separated them. “You underestimate the situation,” the head councilman answered softly. “Need I remind you that the mitres are nearly opened? The tide in this war turns daily.”

Unable to help himself, Jared released a rough growl of frustration, closing his eyes against the image of the elders gathered before him. “I am a warrior, not a king,” he replied, wrestling to regain his patience. “I do not intend to take a mate.”

“My lord, you have but five years left in your fertile time.” This remark came from Dalne, the youngest council member. Leave it to a woman to speak so frankly about his approaching infertility. “That is, if we are fortunate. Perhaps less than that.”

“You make your leader sound quite inexperienced.” He laughed, working to deflect the council’s efforts at persuasion. “As if he does not know his own body.”

“Sir, it has nothing to do with….” Dalne’s words trailed to nothing, and she glanced anxiously at the others for help.

Jared chose to take the lead. “I am no virgin, and do not require these lessons that the council seems determined to issue.”

Aldorsk stepped forward, attempting to placate him. “My lord, we mean no—”

Jared cut her off. “I also know that any other Refarian male would have at least ten years left in his fertile time.” He yielded a coarse rumble. “Perhaps fifteen. I possess a finicky, problematic bloodline, do I not?”

Blushing, Dalne made a low bow. “Forgive me for saying what you’d rather not hear, sir.” One look into Councilor Dalne’s eyes revealed her extreme agitation. It couldn’t be an enjoyable task, reminding him that his fertility approached an end—and at such a relatively young age. Thank the gods that his council didn’t know that he’d never passed through so much as a single mating cycle. Mate or no mate, he should at least have experienced the fever by how; after all, at thirty, such was commonplace for those of his line.

With a cough, he made a polite change of subject. “Dalne, what is the weather like at Mareshtakes today?” As she glanced over her shoulder, he could imagine that she gazed out a window at their council’s hidden encampment back on Refaria.

“The sun shines bright, sir,” Dalne answered with a cautious smile. “The temperature is mild, breezy.”

Tilting his head backward, he tried to picture his beloved ocean, restless and rolling with waves. He could smell the brine so clearly that his chest literally tightened with the memory of it. He repeated her words like a prayer: “The sun shines bright.”

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