She must be even more exhausted than I am.
But she struggles to hold it together – for me.
“Listen, Ashely… The only people who truly know anything about the Bond are those three aliens – and they’re all pretty obviously obsessed with you.” She leans in closer. “Why don’t you ask them about it?” Then a flash of deviousness comes to her eyes. “And here’s a way to find out their true intentions.”
“What?”
“The one thing Peter would never do is let you leave – not willingly. So, tell the Aurelians that you don’t want to be with them, and then see how they react. If they don’t let you go, then you’ll need to find a way to escape before they Bond you to them forever. But, if they do let you go, you can always come back to them.”
As she says that, Danielle yawns hugely, lazing back on the comfortable chair. As she starts drifting off, I stand – grabbing a pile of blankets to tuck her in with.
“Rest now, Danielle. You’ve done enough.” Her eyes close, and she’s asleep within seconds.
I wrap the bathrobe around myself more tightly. It occurs to me that I’m wearing a dead man’s clothes – this robe belonged to Peter – but I’m too tired right now to even care.
I open the door to leave the bathing chamber…
…and almost bump into a naked Aurelian on my way out.
“Conan?” I gasp, confused. “What are you doing, standing there?”
The seven-feet-tall warrior is standing stark naked in the hallway. The stone floor beneath him is covered in the water that has been dripping off his magnificent, muscular body.
He’s naked – but that didn’t mean he was caught unawares, or not ready to protect himself. In his hand remains the hilt of his Orb-Blade, ready to be activated to humming, blue-black life at any second.
He grins at me, turning around. “Did you really think we’d leave you unprotected?”
“Well, you need to put some clothes on! You can’t just be standing around naked!”
Conan shrugs: “Why not? Who gets to decide that, except me?”
I can’t help but smile. The fearful, nervous man I’d met a few days earlier – who’d always seemed paranoid, and constantly searching around him for danger, is now totally gone.
I didn’t know him before, but I feel that he’s back to himself – the himself I feel like I’m meeting for the first time.
“Besides, my pet,” the towering Aurelian grins. “If I went to put on clothes, I’d have to leave the door unguarded. Now, why don’t you grab me one of those robes?”
I feel lighter around Conan. He’s nowhere near as intense as Evander and Augustus, who have an energy that intimidates me as much as it excites me.
I go back into the bathing room, careful to walk softly so as not to wake my friend…
…but then I suppress a giggle as Danielle lets out the loudest snore!
I grab the biggest-sized robe I can find and bring it back to Conan, who shrugs it on. It barely covers his upper legs, and he looks absolutely ridiculous in it.
It relaxes me to see this violent warrior in a too-small bathrobe – as if this mild indignity somehow softens his hardened, dangerous edge.
I realize that if I’m going to follow Danielle’s advice, he’s the member of the triad I’d be most comfortable talking with.
“Conan, I’ve got some questions. Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
He nods. “Certainly. My triad telepathed the layout of this place. There’s an office we can go to.”
So, the rumors of telepathy are true. I won’t have to ask that question, at least.
I follow Conan to one of the Peter Paradooli’s studies. It’s a beautifully appointed room centered around a huge desk. Conan chooses one of the seats in front of the desk, and motions for me to sit in Peter’s chair.
As the wood creaks beneath me, I think:
So, this is how he felt, sitting here so many times. Did Peter ever imagine that one of his slaves would one day sit in his place?
Conan stares at me from across the desk. Peter’s chair is raised, which he’d ensured to make sure that he was always looking down upon his visitors. However, even sitting on this raised dais, Conan is higher than me.
His bathrobe is slightly open, and I get a view of the perfect slope of his pectoral muscles. He has such an incredible physique – as if he’s been in the gym for six hours a day, every day of his life…
But the fact is, like all Aurelians, he was just born that way. He’s a natural warrior – elite and deadly.
The truth be told, the fact that Conan’s muscles are natural – and didn’t come about out of vanity – makes them all the hotter to me.
He stares intently at me.
“Ask your questions. I’ll never lie to you, Ashley.”
I realize I’m furrowing my brows, and I consciously try to relax them.
“Conan… You three have barely known me for a day! And yet you’re all acting like you’re in love with me.”
Conan takes a deep breath. He licks his lips, and I realize the alien is tasting my scent on the air.
“It’s because we’ve never smelled anything like you, Ashley.”
He can taste me in the air… That’s so… alien.
I don’t know whether to be complimented or insulted. “What do you even mean by that?”
“You smell right. Just… right.”
That doesn’t answer my question!
“Augustus knew it first,” Conan continues, leaning forward and staring at me with intensity. “I believe it now, too. You’re it.”
It?
I wince. There’s so much pressure being put on me.
Looking for a distraction, I open the top drawer of Peter’s desk, where I’ve seen him take out a bottle before. It’s still there, half full.
Taking the bottle out, I pour a healthy measure into the crystal glass standing to the right of the writing pad.
It’s a glass I’d normally have trembled to carry, for fear of breaking
