{Gait}
Korac watched as Sagan slept. For two days, she snored gently into the ostrich feather pillows she acquired from Reipon. She needed more rest, but the messages he received on her comms device required her attention. After waking her, they’d have breakfast. This time he’d sit on her and force her to eat. If that’s what it took. With all the activity, she shed almost fifteen pounds in three weeks. At first, it cut her muscle tone nicely, but now it ate away into her mass. He was losing her.
No idea to what. But he strongly suspected—
“Razor…” Sagan muttered in her sleep. “Leave Matt alone. Please…”
Time to wake her. Korac crossed the room and sank on the bunk beside her. The war criminal leaned forward and kissed his sleeping princess. Sagan inhaled deeply of him and returned in force. Her fingers found his hair, shoulder-length now, and pressed him closer. He purred for her before breaking away. The prominence of the hollows of her cheeks worried him. The dark circles, despite her sleep, tightened his chest.
But that smile—Lazy. Silly. With her blond hair stuck up all over. Freckles glittered across her nose. Her eyes finally opened. Bright and happy. Unused, her voice came out rough, “Morning, General Korac.”
Korac smirked. “Good evening, General Sterling.”
Sagan sprung up, frazzled. “Evening? What time is it on Earth? I—”
“You slept for two days.”
She gaped. “Why—Why did you let me sleep so long?”
He clicked his tongue and crossed the room, gathering her comms device. “I’d prefer you sleep longer. As much as you seemed to need it.” Korac slipped out of his robe, silk that matched the sheets. When it hit the floor revealing his bare backside, a squeak erupted from behind him. His smirk widened into a grin. “But I’ve taken calls from your Shadow. They seem quite incapable without you.”
“I should thank you for taking care of me.” He turned in time to see his woman stand from the bed and strip out of his shirt. Gloriously naked.
Korac fell to his knees at Sagan’s bare feet. They could play this game forever, one-upping each other. But despite his dominance in bed, the Icarean General knew his place. He served her.
“Take from me what you need. Give to me what you want. Until Eternity takes me, I’m yours.” Korac tilted his neck, exposing his carotid. “Feed from me. Honor me.”
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Given their height difference, Sagan stood barely a head higher than Korac on his knees. Accepting his reverence, she swept the hair from his shoulder—
The air brakes on the lift sighed as it descended with its passenger. They shared an abashed look.
“Shit!”
“Pehton.”
They scrambled to cover and dress. At least make some effort not to take advantage of the Lyrik’s graciousness.
“She’s still here?!” The Executive Warden of Gait rubbed her forehead and groaned, distraught. “I’m so demoted.”
Korac hid his amusement as Sagan gave a speech straight from the heart. “I want to thank you so much, Pehton, for being so understanding about this—”
“You’re talking to me about this while wearing a sheet.”
“—I know it’s put you in a difficult position. One that I respect—Hey!”
Korac picked Sagan up and threw her over his shoulder. At Pehton’s bemused brow, he held up one finger to stave her wrath. Adorably, the General of the Two Armies slapped his ass, covered now in jeans. “Let’s get you dressed. Then you can assail yourself of the Executive Warden’s wisdom and grace.” He carried her over to the Japanese silk screen in the corner and handed her the Lyriki armored coat. Then the hip harness for the axes. And, apparently, a hairbrush at her request.
Pehton called with her back to the cell, “Save it for later, General Sterling. I consider this a favor to be repaid. In the meantime, you’re needed on Earth. They’ve been calling you for days.”
Sagan finished dressing and reached up to cup Korac’s face with both hands. “Thank you,” she whispered, warming him through. Intelligence flashed in her eyes. “What about your memory? The one that upset you?”
He gently clasped her wrists. “Nothing to resolve at the moment. We’ll talk next time. I’ve already extended the limits of my selfishness by keeping you to myself for two days in the middle of a war. I’ll try to keep my thoughts of you to a minimum.”
Korac appraised her from head to toe. Cute short-cut hair. Sexy corset coat with nothing underneath. Thigh-high stiletto boots. He gave her a wicked smirk. “Even at a minimum, it’ll prove quite the crucible.”
She shoved him cutely.
He sobered for the next bit. “The Ecology first. Then Tameka needs you in Enki. And Sagan?”
Sagan paused in her supply check to peer up at him.
“Go see King Rayne.”
Her face fell. He hated reminding her, but the longer she postponed it, the harder it became. But something else darkened her eyes. A shadow. She bit her lip and looked away. The nonverbal tell.
Sagan craved a pain experience. She even spoke of them in her sleep. Asked Razor for more. She slept the withdrawal off, but with each passing experience, her body depended more on the rush of endorphins.
Korac kissed the top of her head and drew her gaze back to him. No sexy smirks. No winning smiles. He whispered, “You come before the mission. Don’t risk yourself more than necessary. And if you ever need me, I’m one step away.”
The shame melted from her. Only love shone in those purple eyes. She put a fist to her nacre and winced when it hit the port cover. Despite that, she promised, “I’ll be seeing you.”
“I look forward to it as always.”
The scent of fresh watermelon lingered in Sagan’s wake. He wished she’d fed. Ate. Rested longer—
“Korac.”
This.
Right.
Korac turned to face the dainty Lyrik and acknowledge a nightmare he’d rather ignore.
“I’ve waited two days, but now it’s time to answer my questions. What is the Atheneum? And how does it concern you?”