Saving Hibreon Ch. 01

Lost moved over to stand beside Kytia. She pointed at the display and asked, "Bodre e'suena?" What is it?

Without looking up, Kytia muttered, "We're dogs. And all we've done is switch masters."

Wyfrost said, "Now, Kytia, that's not true. The Eloua are against slavery. They don't do that."

He might have continued, but the doors at the front of the throne room opened, and the Sil troops came inside. As the serpent-like soldiers began collecting the Ay'niki prisoners, Kytia looked at Wy and asked, "Don't they?"

The sounds of fighting came from the courtyard and Kytia turned toward it. She said, "I'm going out there. Are you good?"

He wanted her to stay, but this was her city. He couldn't deny her a fight. "Yeah," he said. "Just go easy, okay? And try not to stand in front of any cannons."

With a smirk, she said, "Right." Then she took the data crystal from the port on the console and held it up before tucking it into a compartment in her armor. He winced when she said, "And just so you know, Wy, we're not done talking about this."

***

The Ay'niki stuck in the floor babbled his harsh and guttural blather at Lost. She didn't understand the words, but his intent was clear. He wanted her to release her spell. Lost didn't speak that being's language, nor did she particularly care to learn. It was bad enough she had to learn Barter. That language was composed of a mishmash of words and phrases from countless races across the multiverse. It was convoluted and contradictory. Barter was the most ridiculous tongue imaginable, but everybody spoke it.

Most of the time, she understood what was said to her due to the psychic abilities she'd picked up from Sabrael and the other Eloua. Responding made her nervous, because Barter left too many opportunities to say the wrong thing in the wrong way. She merely shushed the Ay'niki, then spoke one word to him: "Eloua."

Wyfrost casually translated for him. "Looks like you're our designated diva, and you'll sing for the Eloua. I don't think you're getting loose 'til the ambassador comes for you. So just sit tight, and keep your panties on. Shouldn't be too much longer."

Then Wy turned to her and asked, "Can I talk to you, maybe out there?" He tilted his head toward one of the doors leading into the hall.

She'd sensed his need to mate while helping him with his greaves. Though her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch, there were other energies tied up in the miasma of his aura. He needed to mate, but he also needed to talk. She nodded and followed him out.

The room off the main hall used to be a large office, probably used by the queen before the Ay'niki took over. Wy had to duck his head to get through the door, but there was plenty of space inside. The most recent castle occupants had moved a few furnishings and art in there for storage. Lost shifted a few boxes over and hopped up onto a desk. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for Wy to begin.

"I wanted to talk to you first, before I say anything to Kytia or to Araquies, because I think this is your business more than anybody else's. Araquies is looking for something on Hibreon, some evidence of what happened to your mentor when you were here with him. I'm not positive, but I think I might know where to find it."

Lost couldn't fathom what Wyfrost could know about any of it. She had last been to Hibreon two hundred years in the past. Wy was only twenty-six years old, and his Norrhim homeland was far from Raelinholm. She remained quiet while he continued.

"The Eloua you came here with, Sabrael, right? He called you Lotus?"

Wy had learned as much from Araquies after he'd helped Lost regain her memories. Hearing that name felt oddly painful. Part of her missed who Sabrael had been, while another part hated what he'd become. Lost nodded her head in response.

Wy seemed to consider his next words carefully, as if he thought she'd call him crazy. "There's a place, a cave, way north of the Mountain where I come from. The people who know about it think there's a sleeping dragon inside it. But I've been there, and from what I can see through the ice, it's not a dragon. I think it's an Eloua ship. There's a prophecy, I guess, about bringing a flower to wake the dragon... a lotus flower. Maybe loving you and Kytia has driven me insane, or maybe you are the lotus flower, and maybe that's your ship."

Her heart tripped over itself for a moment, and Lost felt like she needed to catch her breath. Once she trusted herself to speak, she gave him the pet name for the ancient Eloua craft, "Luma."

"Luma? That's your ship?"

"The Nephilumen. I call him 'Luma'."

"Him?" Wyfrost said, but then he answered his own question. "Because Eloua vessels are alive." At Lost's nod, Wy asked, "What do you want me to do? Should I tell Kytia and Araquies?"

Lost hopped off the desk and said, "Yeah, you gonna tell. And you gonna take me to Luma, 'kay?"

"Of course," Wyfrost said. He looked relieved that he wouldn't have to keep the secret. "There's something else, though."

She stepped closer and looked up at him. She thought he wanted to mate. His aura, the tension of his body, even the way he smelled all suggested a desire for sexual release. Instead, he began, "There was this woman..."

She stepped back, giving him space to tell his story, while she started to remove her suit. "She was on a pilgrimage to go see the dragon, to go see Luma. I was responsible for escorting her. That's when the Ay'niki came and took us both. Lost, they used her for leverage against me, and now I think she might be in danger. She's my responsibility. I have to help her if I can, but that means going back out there."

He pointed up towards the ceiling, but Lost knew what he meant. Even as he ogled the now bared breasts he'd wanted moments ago, Lost asked him, "What you woman called?"

His hand strayed to caress a pert breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple. His voice softened, and he spoke while she unfastened the under-padding he still wore. "Mila." Then he added hastily, "She's not my woman. It's not like that."

Lost wrapped her fingers around the solid girth of his shaft. He gasped and leaned down to her. His other hand slid down her back and gently squeezed her buttock. Lost took him in both of her hands, stroking the length of him. His breath came quicker, and she asked him, "Not that, then why you scared Kytia?"

He chuckled warmly and nipped at her earlobe. Giving her back-side a playful little swat, he said, "You know I'm not scared of Kytia."

She laughed with him and argued, "Yeah, you scared."

She parted her legs as Wy's hand moved lower, long, thick fingers caressing her outer labia from behind. The thought of sex with him had made her feel wet even when she'd only been helping him with his greaves. His fingers slipped through her folds to caress her stiffening clitoris. There was a gruff tone in his voice when he said, "I'm not afraid of her. I love her, and I don't want to hurt her."

He stepped away from her and sat down on the desk. "Come here," he demanded. The sound of his voice made her wetter still, and she straddled his lap. She positioned the head of his shaft at her entrance.

Wyfrost concluded, "All Kytia's ever wanted was to be home. She's got that now. How can I ask her to help?"

He moaned as Lost lowered herself on him. He gripped her hips and lifted her slowly. Her whole body thrilled at the fullness of him. She smiled up at him and answered his question. "You say, 'Kytia help, please.'"

"Mmm," he murmured, "Just like that, huh?"

Then he moved her body faster, pumping with meaningful endeavor. Heat and pressure rapidly escalated, and she knew she would come in seconds. "Oooh, yeah!" she cried. "Just like that."

Wyfrost's hold tightened, and he emitted a little growl with every thrust. His capacity for conversation was at an end. Lost let her head fall back, succumbing to the blissful friction of their joined bodies. When he came with her, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. He held her, tender lips caressing her neck and shoulder, while the two of them enjoyed the aftershocks of their quick coupling.

When they could part, she looked into his eyes and smiled, saying, "Better, Wy?"

"For now." He answered with a wink and a gentle squeeze on her buttock, a silent promise of more to come.