{The Last Dream | December 2005}

Slaked and sore, depleted in her dream, Rayne expected to wake up any minute. Always within seconds of their mutual destruction, the dream evicted her, affording her time to run off her shame and guilt before facing her friends.

Rayne never knew a lingering tender caress, nor a kiss of compliments on her performance. Just take advantage of her and leave. When the dreams transitioned from brutal force into aggressive seduction, she yearned for some sign of kindness, some semblance of feeling.

Rayne envied Sagan.

“Rayne.” Nox’s voice rumbled inside her head, the depth and melody of it a sensual vice on her reason.

The sheets whispered as she turned beneath them to face her tormentor. Her lover. Her ruin.

Nox never spoke to her after. She never let him see the aftermath. He must know what she wanted. He knew everything, but to let him see her like this—It was just another weakness to use against her.

Nox was laying on his side on top of the sheets, arm propped on the pillow as he rested his jaw in his hand. Still masked by the haze he hid himself behind, Rayne peered down at the formidable tank he fashioned for his body. There was nothing modest about him. So why build a fortress around his heart?

While Rayne resented the nacre for its ability to heal, she sought the bloody scratches on his skin or the bruises on his chest. They were all gone.

Nox reached out, and Rayne stopped herself from flinching as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. He captured a tear. Quiet and soft as if reflecting, he asked, “Every time?” while gazing at the tear.

Rayne hid her face in the pillow to remove anymore leaking. With her throat raw from screaming and strangulation, she answered softly, “Yes.” The split in her bottom lip throbbed, and she sucked it into her mouth to prolong the ache.

Enticed, Nox took Rayne’s chin with his massive hand and coaxed her up from the bed to meet him. Ah, so that’s why she was still here. He wasn’t finished with her, yet.

As Nox made to kiss her, Rayne parted her lips automatically, only he rolled onto his back instead. In the confusion, she released the sheet protecting her modesty as he laid her across his chest. She nuzzled her face, stained in blue blood, into the firm muscle there.

Again on reflex, Rayne reached for his hips.

“No, no,” Nox said as he took her hand and placed it on his chest.

Rayne tried not to wince as he laced his fingers through hers. A phenomenon in and of itself.

Nox continued, “I am quite satisfied. Your eagerness and stamina never cease to impress me. However, I must confess to a grave error in your erotic education.” He crooked a finger under her chin, making her look at him. “The virtues of pillow talk.”

Laughter burst from Rayne on a bright note, banishing the shame away. Was that all it took not to feel like shit after being with Nox? Some cuddling and some humor?

At his quirked brow and bemused grin, Rayne answered the question without Nox asking it, “I may be young and naïve, but I don’t believe you’ve ever engaged in pillow talk.” One could still hope this wasn’t a new game he was playing with her.

Nox cradled her as he sat up with a pillow propped between him and the headboard. The entire room rocking the Spartan approach Rayne had expected from a man like him, carved from rock with only two items of furniture: a bed and a throne. The bed was comfy at least, not that Rayne had spent much time in it.

In the last few months dreaming these moments with Nox, he took Rayne anywhere but the bed. They fell into it occasionally at the very end, but he kept it from her.

As Rayne stared into the filter over Nox’s face, she wondered if his guard had finally slipped. Just enough to let her in.

Whatever. This was a fucking dream.

Rayne curled her legs around his, draped a mottled arm across his waist, and breathed in, regretting the lack of his scent within the dream. As the warmth of Nox filled her, a pang hit her in the chest.

He brushed a hand across her bruised scalp and through her hair, down her back, over and over again. Nox said, “I often imagine us this way.”

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“I often imagine you with a face, so there’s that.”

An unfamiliar rumbling banged through his unmarred chest against Rayne. Laughter. Nox was laughing. “That’s fair.” He kissed the top of her head as a reward for his amusement. She tried to ignore the second pang, a warning. He said, “It’s not time yet. But when it is, I’ll have to peel you off me.”

Again, Rayne’s bright laughter lifted the heavy burden inside. Please, let this be it. Softly, she said, “When it’s time… You mean, when you invade?” She lowered her gaze to the banding of his ribs where the bruising had disappeared. Her fingers trailed across Nox’s soft skin to trace his unmarred ribs. This was an unknown experience for her as she explored the feel of him under her fingertips.

Nox’s body acknowledged the effect. ‘Quite satisfied,’ indeed.

“Yes. When I and my armies take Earth. When I take you, Rayne.” Despite his earlier brevity regarding pillow talk, the mention of his designs on her planet and her, returned the cruel and menacing tone in his voice.

Any minute now, Nox would grab Rayne by the arms and sate himself with her body, drawing out every zenith from her in the process. And so the cycle would continue because she couldn’t stay off the one damned topic that would take them there. But how could she? She wanted—no, needed—to understand him. Even his hand stopped its course through her hair.

It was time for the usual deliberation.

Run and make Nox work for it? Or stay and let him take what he wanted from her?

Rayne always ran. She loved making Nox catch her. They would fight for the prize to be on top. Her breath quickened, and her pulse fluttered.

Rayne pulled her arm from him, ready to bolt, when Nox snatched it from the air. She struggled to retrieve her arm, but as one massive hand gripped her wrist, the other trailed fingernails across the bruises along her arm. Soft as a breath. Rayne relaxed against Nox as he examined the bruised impressions of his fingertips left all over her. She gasped at his gentle touch.

The monster observed his marks with a tenderness never afforded to her until now. Nox said, “You bruise so easily. Outside the dream, these would last for days.” He placed her hand back onto his abdomen and even encouraged her fingers to continue their exploration. He trailed a hand down her back. “This one would last you weeks.” Grazing the bruise elicited a reaction from Rayne she dared not acknowledge. He purred against the top of her head, “You are never satisfied.”

Was that true? Was Rayne some kind of addict?

As this little freak out warred inside her head, Nox said, “I am… Zealous about the invasion of your planet. It comes across as barbarous, but I promise I have credible reasons.”

Without thinking, Rayne agreed. “To save Cinder.”

They glanced at each other, her blue eyes unable to make out his for the filter cast in the way. Nox said, “Yes. Do you know why?”

“The Icari can’t survive on it much longer, and humans are a compatible source of nutrients for your survival.” Rayne sat up and leaned into him, her hair trailing across his shoulder. Ignoring the pain from the chunk he took out of her arm, she pressed on with excitement. Finally, some answers. “Why an invasion? Why not ask for help? Offer your technology in return for—”

“You’re beautiful this way.” His words shocked the rest from Rayne. Nox never communicated in kindness. He said, “So intelligent. So compassionate. You mean every word. I can see it in the way you move, the way you breathe.” He pressed his hand to the side of her face.

Taken aback, Rayne leaned into it. One small, perfect moment with him. That’s all she wanted. She would never forget it.

Nox shook his head, and the moment died. “I can’t. Your planet’s weapons are inferior, but they are a danger to us and our kind. I can’t risk collateral destruction of my people, or yours for that matter, without risking the food source for the Icari. Besides,” he brushed Rayne’s hair behind her ear, saying, “humans cannot be trusted with our technology. The nacre alone would be too much for you.” He pulled his hand away entirely and took in every inch of her with his eyes.

The young human girl poised naked at Nox’s side, negotiating for her planet. The ancient Icarean King bare beneath Rayne, educating her on the ways of diplomacy and war. What a pair they made.

Nox said, “Your rendition of pillow talk fascinates me.” His eyes searched hers. “But what should I expect with what I’ve taught you of intimacy?”

Nox changed the subject and added a jab to make Rayne feel self-conscious about her understanding of lovemaking. More self-conscious.

Well, not tonight.

Please wake up now.

Rayne turned away and made to leave the bed, tired of this game. She needed to run, to soar, and to fly away. Over her shoulder, she terrified herself with her words, “Come on. I’d rather fight you, then pretend for one more second you might actually love—”

Nox captured Rayne, wrapping his arms around her waist. He got on his knees so fast it left her startled, and he brought her back against him.

“Shh,” Nox soothed.

Was Rayne crying again?

Nox kissed Rayne’s hair and kneaded the twin bite marks on her abdomen. His voice lost some of its regal tone. In its place was a sadness she didn’t think he knew. He said, “Never change. This is exactly how I want you. Capable, intelligent, beautiful. Mine. I want you, Rayne.”

‘Want.’ Not love. But with Nox, this was a first. Maybe it could be the beginning.

Yes, the tears were there.

Rayne wanted—craved—love from Nox, desperately. Before he invaded, she wanted nothing more than to broker peace. A peace where he might ask her to be with him instead of force her to kill him on a battlefield. Her voice trembled as she said, “Nox, please.” Don’t let this end in death.

Nox bit into Rayne’s ear, drawing blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The rich enticement in his voice sustained her desire for him. His words poured over her.

“I vow to you…”

Kill like a soldier.

One hand went higher, the other lower. Rayne moaned for the man who bruised her.

“Regardless of how this war turns out…”

Command like a king.

Nox squeezed her hip. Rayne ground against him.

“If I live or die…”

Fuck like a warrior.

Nox pulled her hair. Rayne rose for him, arching her back.

“You will always be…”

Love like a victim.

“Yours,” Rayne finished as she let him in.

This was how Nox designed her.