Kiera's Moon

His body was warm against hers, his breathing and heartbeat deep and slow. His thick arms were around her, his muscular chest at her back. He was calm and quiet, waiting.

It had been a very, very long time since any man had held her. His incredible strength, heat, and scent calmed her fear as much as they excited the woman within her. On her walks at Lover's Lane near Evelyn's row house, she'd often seen couples entranced by the rhythmic movement of waves stand at a railing, the man's arms wrapped around the woman in front of him, his chin on her head. They had looked so peaceful, so comfortable, and she never understood the appeal until this moment.

She forgot about the tarantula-cats and watched the meteor shower again, protected from the chill of evening by his body heat and the odd energy running between them. The moment dragged out for quite a few minutes, and still no one gave chase. His grip loosened, but she made no attempt to move. They waited a short time longer before the prisoner shifted to rise.

Kiera roused herself, climbed to her feet, and stretched before the prisoner snagged her arm once more and began the quick pace again. Irritated at the sudden break of warmth and intimacy, she sighed as she trotted to keep up.

They didn't go far, and she was surprised to see the grassy slopes end at an abrupt cliff. The dual moons seemed to hover somewhere in the middle of the air of a massive chasm, just like the dozen or so hulking spaceships, whose dark grey skins reflected like skins of massive grey whales in the moonlight. Many were distant enough to be the size of her fist, while those closer were the size of football stadiums.

She neared the edge and started to panic again. How did she hire a ship?

Her ill-planned idea was unraveling again, this time at a much more alarming pace. How did she find the one to take her home without telling Romas? There must be a way! She blinked and turned, remembering the prisoner. He stood a short distance from her, watching her intently.

"Thank you," she told him uncertainly. "You've fulfilled your end of the bargain. I've reached the ships."

If a warrior could be amused, he was. The emotion was fleeting, more in a subtle shift of his eyebrows than in a smile or sudden change. He waited.

"You can go," she said.

A small, round object twice the size of a dinner plate appeared from the chasm and skimmed over several feet of grass to reach them. She stepped back. It settled into the grass near the prisoner's feet. He motioned her to it.