AN – If you want to get the unedited versions of these chapters, I'm going to need you to email me at lynnwood84(at)aol(dot)com. PM's aren't working, as too many people aren't grasping the concept of writing out their email address as I've done above, and it ends up getting deleted. (I don't think that this site allows any kind of web or email addresses to be uploaded into the content of the site). I can't access anyone's email address from their main page either, for some reason, as the link comes up blank. And besides, it's a whole lot easier for me to just hit the reply button. XD
I will need you to send me a new email for each new chapter, (there's just too many people to keep track of otherwise) IF you've already received the other chapters. As in, don't expect me to remember you and email you again when I finish a new one. HOWEVER, if you are requesting multiple chapters at once, it's okay to only send one message.
And before anyone else asks, fanfiction(dot)net DOES NOT allow NC-17 content to be uploaded here. M rating is for adult language and somewhat adult situations, but not hard-core sex scenes (ie lemons/hentai/whatever). Yes, other people get away with it, but they're taking a risk. I've tried it once, and got reported, and my fic got removed. I won't be taking that chance again. If you'd rather view it online in it's entirety, you can also find this fic unedited at www(dot)destinysgateway(dot)com, under the same penname.
:: Chapter Nine ::
Wedding Nights – Mina
Mina tried to calm her nerves as she stood alone in the massive bedchamber that wasn't hers, yet fighting a losing battle it seemed, for the bone deep tremors and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't abate. Now the Venusian Queen, she blew out a trembling breath, feeling tears prick her eyes but stubbornly refusing to let them fall. She missed her mother desperately, yet Psyche had refused to give her any comfort in this, and left back for their homeworld shortly after the ceremony.
She had held her daughter's face in her hands earlier that morning, golden eyes sad but resolute in the face of Mina's several attempts to beg and plead her way out of what was coming. "I have loved you more than anything your whole life, my beauty. Perhaps a little too much, I see now. I would never have thought you capable of something so petty and vain as this."
Her mother's sad disappointment in her was perhaps what hurt her the most, and was the hardest burden to bear. Mina had cried, then, bitterly.
"I'm so sorry, mama," she'd sobbed softly. "I-I didn't know. I didn't mean it!" She'd felt like a child then, carrying on so, but hadn't cared at that moment. She was too afraid of the consequences her rash actions had made and now, much like a child, absolutely terrified of facing them.
"But you did, Mina," her mother corrected sternly. "You knew full well what you were doing when you released your Scent on him. Not once, but twice. Now it is a small wonder the man has not collapsed completely under the strength of it. Being of my bloodline, yours is a very powerful lure, stronger than most of our kind."
"But the pheromone will make him crazed," Mina had voiced then, her biggest fear, "and I've not yet taken a lover before." She hesitated, then in a softer, tiny whisper, "he'll hurt me, mama."
The former Queen came the closest she had to breaking at that terrified admission, yet somehow she managed to hold firm. "You've made your bed, child," she'd announced softly, hoarsely. "Now you must live with it."
Psyche was unaffected by any more tears or pleadings. Eventually Mina had forced herself to stop. She'd gone robotically through the meager preparations then. According to Venusian culture one was supposed to be nude for a Joining ceremony, but in deference to the stigmas of the other races her mother had dressed her in a simple yellow and gold sheath instead, and nothing else. Then her cousin Eros had come to escort her down the aisle. Filled with morose self-pity and fear, Mina didn't remember much of the antechamber, nor walking down the long aisle packed with strangers.
She remembered seeing him for the first time however, remembered it clearly. Malachite had stood tall and proud, a giant next to his comrades, an intimidating wall of stone dressed in his formal armor. So handsome, yet so very cold. His face was emotionless, silvery eyes flat and almost dead as he'd taken her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm—painfully polite, perfectly impersonal. The tears had tried to threaten then, too, but she'd fought them off somehow.
Her voice had sounded hollow in her own ears as Mina softly repeated the vows the High Priest had asked of her. The ring she'd put on his finger had been a somewhat plain band of silvery gold, but the one he'd put on her was a surprisingly delicate, pretty band etched with what appeared to be snowflakes, a large pale-blue gem sitting atop it. She'd had only a moment to marvel at it before the Priest announced them officially wed, then gave the great hulk at her side permission to kiss her.
Mina had tensed up then, terrified, unsure what to expect. Yet he'd merely bent, and barely brushed his mouth against hers before standing straight again and turning away. Impersonal, unemotional, as if she were being kissed by a bloodless machine. As if her very touch sickened him. A bitter draught for one such as she to swallow, and one that only made her heart further shrivel in her chest.
So now here she stood, waiting for him to come to her. Waiting for him to claim her. Mina wrapped her arms around herself, chilled. She now bitterly regretted her choice not to take a lover before now. Unlike most others, her culture was very open to the idea of casual sex. Venusians saw lovemaking as a pleasurable past-time that was foolish to deny yourself. Once someone reached the age of sixteen they were free to take lovers however they chose—so long as both parties were willing and precautions were taken to prevent conception, as having children was left to Joined pairs. Yet Mina never had the desire to take things so far with any man or woman that she'd met before, foolishly holding out for something more than just a feeling of physical desire. Childishly waiting for love. So she was still unbreached at eighteen, something almost unheard of on her homeworld. And now that breaching was going to become a whole lot more painful and brutal than it needed to have been.
Back on Venus, her first time would have been gentle and highly pleasurable. She would've eventually chosen an older man, one who knew what he was doing, knew how to bring her into full womanhood and introduce her to the many joys of lovemaking in the most skillful ways possible. Yet now her first time was going to be with a man who hated her, yet one who would no doubt be driven near-mad with the lust she'd forced on him.
Malachite had been fighting with her pheromone for so long now that it would be a wonder if he didn't just tear the wrap from her body, throw her to the ground and take her like a beast. What was more, a female Venusian's pheromone also enhanced a man's stamina as well as his sex drive. Drunk on it, the powerful warrior would be driven to take her many times tonight before the stimulant was exorcised completely from his system.
It would be a small wonder indeed if she even managed to survive till morning.
Mina jerked as the door suddenly opened. She whirled to it, eyes wide, feeling her heart sink somewhere into the soles of her feet with fear. Malachite—now her husband and the King of her Kingdom—slowly entered it, then shut the portal firmly behind him. He wore the white leather outfit piped in gold, though the half-armor that he'd worn over it was now gone, removed before he'd come to her apparently. His face was still as unreadable as before, and anything he might be feeling was carefully hidden from her, both outwardly and inwardly. Malachite stood at the door for several minutes, just staring at her, expression indiscrutable, and Mina felt like a bug underneath that chilly stare.
And then all at once he spoke up with, "I suppose you think you're terribly clever."
Mina blinked, taken off-guard with that. "I'm sorry?" she questioned somewhat hesitantly, then her eyes widened as that mask finally cracked to allow a bitter sneer to suddenly twist his lips.
"Do not continue to play me for a fool, madam," he snapped. "You're sadly mistaken if you think you will be able to use that damned pheromone of yours to turn me into a mindless simpleton, who you can then manipulate to your every little whim." Mina gasped, and he chuckled at her surprise, though there was no humor to it. Malachite pushed himself off the door then and slowly approached her. "My comrade Zoisite informed me this evening after you'd left just what you Venusian women are capable of doing to the unsuspecting male mind. Yet you will not find me so easily controlled, my dear."
"I'm not—I-I wasn't trying to—I never meant—," she started to sputter, but he cut her off with a sharp motion of his hand. She jerked a little, stunned when his face finally reflected a real, honest emotion. Unfortunately it was anger. His cheeks flushed with it, pale brows deeply furrowed over eyes that flashed like silvery orbs of ice.
"Save it!" he roared. "I don't want to listen to any more of your lies!"
Cold and dispassionate, Malachite was an intimidating man. Angry, he was downright terrifying. Mina suddenly found herself wishing for the return of the other version, yet she knew that that was now a distant dream. Her pheromone was starting to take its toll, taking away his ability to think clearly, or control his emotions. At this point she could only hope he didn't resort to beating her.
Therefore Mina didn't try to defend herself again, knowing her words weren't going to have any effect on him other than to possibly infuriate him more. Instead she drew herself up as proudly as she could and lifted her chin, a spark of defiance lighting her blue eyes. That made his own narrow a fraction.
"Haughty and defiant to the bitter end, I see." Then his lips twisted into an unholy smirk, one that made her shiver involuntarily. "We will see just how long you can manage to keep it after I'm done with you." That sort of statement really didn't go very far in calming her nerves. Nor did his next one. "Strip."
She blinked, not sure if she'd heard him right through the roaring in her ears. "What?" she squeaked somewhat inelegantly.
"Get undressed," he clarified dryly, then added in a sneer, "I've heard how you Venusians view sex and nudity. I doubt very seriously that this is going to be a foreign concept for you."
In fact it was, though she wouldn't be telling him that. Normally Mina had no qualms about her own nudity, or anyone else's for that matter. The naked form had never really fazed her before, male or female. Nudity was seen as perfectly natural to her people, who frequently walked around in various states of undress due to the sweltering heat of their homeworld. Yet with the way he had just ordered her to strip, and the contemptuous look in his eyes while he did so, he made the idea suddenly seem dirty and humiliating. Which was, no doubt, his very intent. Apparently Malachite was setting out to make this whole ordeal as degrading and hurtful as he could, a subtle revenge for trying to manipulate him it seemed.
And he was succeeding beautifully.
Mina gasped a little, her lips trembling as her eyes started to water, both with futile anger and hurt. He was heartless to either of them. "I told you to disrobe, wife," he growled, the term coming off his lips almost as an insult. "Are you going to defy your husband? Let alone your King?"
She swallowed hard, knowing full well that he spoke the truth. She had no right to defy him now, in any capacity. Therefore with trembling fingers, the tears slipping loose out of her eyes and slowly rolling down her cheeks, Mina reached behind her and slowly pulled the gold ribbon loose. The bow had been the only thing holding it all together, so that when the ribbon slid free, so did the yellow silk wrap. Both slowly slithered down and pooled at her feet, leaving the blonde female completely bare, as she'd worn nothing underneath it. Her fists clenched into white-knuckled balls then, arms held perfectly straight at her sides. She waited for whatever would come next, viciously determined now not to let him see any more of her fear or pain.
Yet all the anger was suddenly gone from his face. Mina watched him stare at her for the longest time, his expression almost unwillingly riveted. The young Queen tensed when he took a step toward her, then another, moving almost as if drawn, until he stood so close she could almost feel the heat from his big body. When he raised a hand she flinched a little, unsure of what to expect, yet he merely moved to catch a tendril of her long hair. Mina blinked, confused, as Malachite very slowly drew that soft hank of hair between his fingers.
"So beautiful," he whispered, voice hoarse. Mina just stared up at him, too afraid to move or speak. His expression suddenly darkened, but not with anger. This time it was with something that was more like pain. "Gods save me, no woman should be as beautiful as you," he bit out through clenched teeth.
And then before she could even think to react to that, Malachite suddenly bent to her and his mouth sealed hungrily over her own.
(Portions of this chapter have been removed, due to ff(dot)net's policies. If you are of an eligible age and want to read the un-edited version of this chapter, please contact me via email at lynnwood84(at)aol(dot)com.)
Sometime later Malachite opened his eyes, then blinked up at the ceiling, faintly confused and wondering where he was exactly. At first he drew a blank on that, as well as why he was laying naked in a bed that wasn't his, and why the room smelled so heavily of sex. Then he tensed as it all came rushing back—the Alliance, the Princess of Venus, the marriage. Yet everything from the day before until now seemed somewhat hazy in his mind, however, as if he'd drifted through it all in a daze, only half aware of what he was doing.
He vaguely remembered the ceremony that morning, and a little of the conversation he'd had with Zoisite before coming here, but most of it was a blur after that. The warrior turned slightly, and then tensed, feeling his eyes widen in shock.
The beautiful Princess—now Queen—of Venus lay perfectly still beside him on the rumpled bed. Her eyes were shut tight, but he could tell from her labored breathing that she wasn't asleep, her arms ramrod straight at her sides, tiny fists clenched. Her lips were red and swollen, several purplish bruises dotting her neck and chest—love-bites. Her fine golden hair was a tangled mess around her head, her soft skin soiled with sweat and other proof of their mating. Simply put, she looked like hell. A quick glance down at himself revealed that he didn't look much better, either.
Dear Gods, what had he done? He fought to remember just what had taken place, and caught vague snippets here or there. He remembered taking her that first time, remembered indistinct images of her crying out, remembered the tears, remembered the blood. Then nothing. He felt his heart bottom out. He'd taunted her about her culture and her experience, when all the while the girl had been completely virgin and he'd fallen on her with all the finesse of an animal in rut. Stars, how long had he been insensible to it? How many times had he forced himself on her?
Malachite glanced at her again and swallowed the huge lump in his throat, suddenly feeling ill. Far too many.
While it was true that his loss of control was due to her using her pheromone on him, it was still a very bitter and distasteful draught for him to swallow, or accept. Malachite was a man who prided himself on his discipline, depended on it, and this was quite possibly the worst thing he'd ever done to a woman in his life. He started to rise, then stiffened when the creature beside him suddenly jerked at his movement, and then she let out a low moan of denial, lips trembling. No doubt she was sore as hell, and terrified that he was about to try to take her again. Malachite would never admit it to another living soul, but seeing that tortured look on Mina's face—and knowing that he was the cause of it—damn near unmanned him.
He got up from the bed, expression resolute, marching into the large antechamber that held the massive porcelain bath. Malachite quickly filled it with steaming hot water, then tossed in a handful of salts kept near-by that were meant to help one relax. Then he stalked back inside the bedroom. He found her eyes open now, staring at him with wary confusion. The warrior didn't bother with words, merely stepped over to her and scooped her tiny frame up off the bed.
Mina gasped a little, either from surprise or pain, he didn't want to examine it too closely. His guilt couldn't bear it. Instead he carried her silently into the bathing room, then carefully deposited her into it. She hissed as the hot water came in contact with her sore skin, then slowly started to relax. Mina would tense up a little again however when he suddenly stepped into the tub behind her, but Malachite pretended not to care.
The vessel was huge, plenty big enough for the both of them. Wasting little time, he immediately reached for the soap and sponge, and then set about cleaning the damage he'd done. She didn't try to fight him, letting him have his way. Malachite washed her everywhere, leaving no part untouched, from her luxuriant long hair to her tiny manicured toes. Somewhere in the middle she started to cry, silent tears leaking down the sides of her face, but he pretended not to notice.
Meanwhile each one that dropped sorrowfully from her chin felt like a tiny dagger digging into his chest.
After Malachite had finished with Mina, he set her aside and then cleaned himself—his motions far quicker and less gentle than the ones he'd used on her. Then he got out, drying them both. Neither one said a word through the entire exchange. He wrapped her in one of the bigger towels before picking her up again and then carrying her into the spare room, where a smaller bed lay. Malachite set her down into it, then turned away. He almost got to the doorway, and then a soft, uncertain,
"Where are you going?" stopped him. He hesitated at the threshold, shoulders tight, but refused to turn back to her.
"To war," was all he allowed in a soft rumble before shutting the door behind him.
Malachite dressed in his battle armor then, securing the plate mail firmly about him with sharp, angry tugs before resheathing his pure diamond great sword. He moved to the exit, but the new King paused at the threshold of it, glancing back over his shoulder and staring for a moment at the closed doorway of the spare room. His eyes hardened before he turned forward again and stepped out, not looking back again.