And I was the only female captain in my unit, chosen for unknown reasons, not given information about my subject or the purpose of my trial.
“Captain Harrow,” the not so robotic voice trembled across the room.
“No! Fuck you! You chipped away years of my life, I endured the unthinkable and did what I never thought I would, but you will not have this. It’s the only thing I have left.” My heart started pounding, deep palpitations fell across my chest like rocks on the smooth surface of a lake, each one causing more pain.
This could not be happening. They would not squeeze my dignity out of me.
Everything shook. The floor, my legs, the ceiling. My lungs filled with shame, with regret and desperation.
They could not use me like this, they could not command me to do this. I deserved better, my heart deserved better. I would not let them, I would not—
“Breathe…” Fingers locked on my right shoulder, grounding me to reality, the voice dripping smoothly down my body, caressing my inability to draw oxygen.
My chest heaved, claws battling to escape inside of my torso, scratching everything in their path. My lungs, my dreams, my future.
“Breathe,” the voice said again, gripping me from the darkness I was sinking into, its strength guiding me towards calm. Towards a new breath.
The shadows from the corners of my eyes started dissipating, giving way to new light. Allowing reality to sink in, transporting me back to the room I found myself locked in. Understanding whose fingers rescued me from the brink of a panic attack.
A new force possessed my ankles, giving them sudden strength.
“Don’t touch me,” I shifted my shoulder, making the fingers slide away from my t-shirt and down my skin. They touched my arm and part of my elbow on their way to separation.
The brief contact raised goosebumps across my skin, wrapping me in warmth and sweet relaxation. A fire started burning in my chest, sending sweet sensations across my body, to my lips and in between my legs, waves of desire caressing my thighs like velvet kisses. I felt beautiful, sensual and needy. Each pulsation starting in my core demanded release.
Fuck me, he was strong. If one accidental touch sent me into this frenzy, I did not want to imagine what a hug would feel like. What looking into his eyes or seeing him smile would cause me to do.
The part I kept buried all my existence came alive, wanting to be loved, needing to be caressed and cherished, to feel attractive and desired, to relish in this feeling. I had never once been loved, never been made love to properly. Maybe he was the one, the one to take me to places I had never been before. He was a fae after all, designed for love making.
“Fuck it, just stop, okay?” I turned on my heel and shouted, expecting to find him in deep concentration, observing my reactions with a wicked snarl.
Instead, the male blinked at me in surprise, those spring-green eyes taking me in with a dash of care and awareness.
“I’m…terribly sorry,” he said, blinking at me as if he had no idea why I was so angry. I had to take a second to do the same because…gods damn me…wow.
What I had in front of me was nothing compared to the plasmatic, recovering pile of meat I had cared for the past seventy-two hours. A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of me, his torso looking like a Greek sculpture, packed and perfectly defined. I definitely understood why the need for a gym now.
His scythe-shaped dark eyebrows arched in wonder, and I only had to look for a second into those emerald eyes of his to know that our viewing experience must be very different. Where I saw a prominent straight nose and angular cheekbones, perfectly seasoned with a mouth adorned by full lips, robust and seductive, ready to drop a smile or to steal a kiss, he saw a skinny face with a sucked in jaw. Nonetheless, I took my time to admire him, suddenly understanding all the mythical allure of fae males.
There were so many legends of women kidnapped by them, taken to faerie territories to be playthings, used for their flesh, and shared amongst the party. Sacrificed as offerings. Seduced and murdered.
They had the appearance of angels, but were cruel, wicked things. The one standing in front of me had to be no exception.
“I demand an operation analysis.” My mouth released the words, but my eyes remained pinned on him. I was trapped in those gorgeous features, in that enticingly kissable mouth, in those eyes that had grown to be filled with life.
I never could express the colour of green I liked, never knew how to describe it. It was the first raw leaves of grass under a sunset, that green that defines the birth of nature. The exact shade of his eyes.
Which started to blink at me in confusion.
“I apologise, I don’t understand,” his dark brows arched, letting me observe how perfectly suited they were to his tall forehead, how they embraced his lines to form delightful features. An excellent complement to his locks, stretching in rivers of obsidian to reach his shoulders.
“Unfortunately, your request is not possible, Captain Harrow,” PDD’s voice echoed through the ceiling.
“In that case, I will unfortunately have to place my badge on the table and be on my way, sir.” I released the words without dropping my gaze from the connection it started forming with the faerie’s blinks of surprise. I wanted to see its reaction…his reaction.
By the surprise and wonder in those emerald beauties, he had no idea what was happening to him. Who I was.
A long silence scraped the walls. No one said a word or even breathed too loudly. Not me, not Gale and most certainly not PDD.
