A brilliant prism flashes across the temple, a hundred tiny rainbows suddenly cutting through the gloom of the ruin. A shiver runs down my spine. The effect is breath-taking and eerie all at once.
“Wow,” I say. “And here I was, thinking the roof just fell in. It already had a hole in it, didn’t it?”
“Time is not a forgiving entity, even for mother Sueva,” Kanuz says.
I tug at my ear lobe. “You know, that almost made sense.” I peer up at him in surprise, my fingers still rubbing the surface of the eye of the snake.
It depresses under my fingers, and a loud click reverberates off the stone.
“Oh, shit,” I say. Did I break it? Stupid, stupid, stupid—
The ground rumbles under my feet, a horrible grating noise sounding. Leaves fall to the floor from the tree that’s taken up residence in the ruin.
“Is it an earthquake?” I yell, my eyes wide. I brace my feet, trying to remain upright. “Sueva quake?”
That’s just what I need, for a fucking earthquake to take me out.
No sooner has the thought flashed through my mind than the floor gives way under my feet.
I’m so shocked I can’t even scream. A strong, taloned hand grips my bicep, and Kanuz yanks me against him.
Then I’m free-falling, cocooned between his scaled chest and tree-trunk like arms.
CHAPTER SIX
KANUZ
This is going to hurt.
Still, I would much rather bear the brunt of the fall than allow my mate to absorb the impact with her soft human flesh. I barely know the female, and yet I find the thought of any injury to her body completely abhorrent.
I refuse to let it happen, so I cradle her to me. Her body is tense with terror at first, a normal reaction to falling suddenly, but then she goes loose and soft against me.
Good. It will be better if she’s fainted.
“Fuck,” she says, and surprise widens my eyes. “This is gonna be bad enough without whiplash.”
Brilliant female.
The ground slams into us. Pain jolts up my tail at the impact. Water splashes in the dark, and then we’re sinking fast.
It was a trap door. It wasn’t ground at all, but another flowing pool. My relief is short-lived, my need to get out of the water and breathe warring with the worry of what else might be in this pool—in this ruined temple.
There is no telling.
With one arm around Gen’s chest, I kick, and for a horror filled moment, I pray to the mother goddess that the direction I’ve blindly chosen is indeed up, and that I’m not driving us further into the deep water.
Finally, air breaks around us, and Gen gasps, then coughs, wriggling against me like a caught fish. “What the fuck was that?”
“Trap door,” I say automatically. I tread water with her pressed against me, and my body responds to her nearness, the adrenaline melting way to something much more pleasurable.
“Trap door?” she repeats.
Exhilaration courses through me, despite the seriousness of our latest dangerous predicament.
“Did you understand me?” I begin swimming, carrying her on top of me, knowing that the edge of this underground pool is somewhere around us. The ancients did not construct their puzzle boxes of worship as death traps. Well, not all of them, at the very least.
I send up another quick prayer that this temple is not one of those. But the goddess is called many-faced for a reason, and it is just as likely this temple pays respects to one of her more violent aspects as it is to be dedicated to a motherly one.
With all the violent imagery on the walls above, the latter is much less likely.
“You said trap door?” she asks, her body tense once more. “I thought this place was a temple. A ruin. How the hell can there still be a functioning trap door? Not to mention, why would they even put one in a temple?”
“I cannot believe you understand me now, my flower. I have so much to tell you.”
She tugs at her earlobe. “I mean, I can mostly understand you, but I’m not sure why you’re calling me a flower. My name is Gen. Genevieve. Maybe that doesn’t translate. Is Gen a type a flower here?”
“It is now,” I tell her earnestly.
“Huh. Still some kinks to work out, I guess. What kind of translator is this anyway? It reminds me a little of the time Bex tried to bore me to death explaining machine learning and AI. From what I understood of it anyway.” Her voice trails off, contemplative.
Truly, I cannot believe how this female accepts things. Any of the other alien species I’ve taken to bed would have been screaming or crying now at being tossed into a dark, water filled pit, not to mention the Crigomar attack.
Gen simply soldiers on, tougher than many Suevan warriors I’ve fought beside. She will make a fine queen of my planet one day.
My quickly inflating pride bursts at the thought, replaced by self-loathing. If the separatists can be brought to heel, that is. Because at this point, if I do not figure out a solution to my planet’s political troubles, all I’ve won for Gen will be war and strife.
Maybe my father is right. Maybe I am not strong enough to rule. A low growl rips out of me, and Gen’s body goes taut against mine.
“What is it, Kanuz? Fuck, I wish I had my gun. Stupid diplomatic protocols.”
“We will find you a weapon,” I tell her. What I will find for her, I do not know. Another false promise. Another reason I’m not enough for the Suevans to unite behind.
“You will find me a big stick?” she replies, confusion lacing her tone.
I cannot help the chuckle that comes out of me. “Big stick? Is that what your translator says? When we reach my hometown of Perzivor, I will be having a long talk with our scientists about making improvements to this technology.”
It makes sense though, that they wouldn’t work correctly right away, considering we hold the secrets of our native tongue closely, the sacred truth-telling words something we do not share freely with other species.
Now though? Now, I wish we had spent more time on improving the symbiont that my entire world hinges on. Because, if I do not have my people united, I will have my Gen. And now that my wife can understand me, our quandary does not seem so very terrible.
Finally, my feet touch solid ground, and I heave a sigh of relief. “We’re at the shoreline.” I swing her up into my arms, the chamber we’ve fallen into so pitch black I can hardly make out her features, even with my excellent eyesight.
“Can you see in the dark?” I ask her, unsure about human vision.
“I wish,” she snorts. “No, I’m more than happy to have you use your big muscles and carry me around. The last thing I need is a broken leg. I’m not too proud to realize that.”
“Do not even joke about it,” I tell her. I flex my muscles, pleased she’s noticed their size. “I would not have any of your petals crushed, my flower.”
“Damn, just when I think this translator thing is working, it spits out the most random shit.” Her tone is resigned. “Unless you are, in fact, calling me a flower.”
“Why would I not call you a flower?” I ask. The water laps around my thighs now, and a shiver wracks Gen’s body. “You are the most stunning creature I have ever seen,” I tell her earnestly. It is true, too. “As Prince of Sueva, I have had my choice of consorts. All kinds of species, all considered beautiful. You eclipse them all, and I am truly proud to have selected you as my wife.”