SUNG
She laughed at his joke, but neither of them stopped kissing. His breath was coming quickly when he had her pressed down on the furs and worked on her blouse's buttons. He opened her top button, then kissed the skin that was revealed. Opened the next and laid the flat of his tongue between her breasts with a deep groan. She had her hands in his hair, gripping him, and her chin back, her neck exposed and so tempting, but he was also about to reach her navel and dip his tongue in that sweet little dip-
"Stop, stop, Sung," she said suddenly, breathlessly.
He stopped immediately and raised his head. Had he hurt her? She still had her hands in his hair, but she had raised her head to meet his eyes and looked… frustrated? Did she want something else? "What's wrong?"
"I can't do this right now!" she whined and closed her eyes, letting her head drop back. "I have to go find the others and start figuring out what to do to connect to people."
"You can wait an hour," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "A whole hour, huh?" she grinned.
Sung growled and buried his face in her stomach. She laughed and curled up like it tickled, struggling, pushing him away. He was forced to grip her wrists and pull her hands over her head, so he leaned over her, her blouse falling open until the insides of her breasts were borne, but the fabric denied him the full view. He growled again.
"Sung?" she said softly.
"Yes, my love?"
"I want this. I want you. but… if I do not get out there and start doing something, I will lose my nerve and… I do not want to keep going the way I am."
"As I said, you can wait an hour," he joked, nuzzling her neck.
But she did not laugh this time. "No, I can't. Sung, stop!" She struggled, and he immediately let go of her wrists, bracing himself on the furs on either side of her head.
Her hair splayed like a glow around her face, but her jaw was stiff, and her brows pinched.
"Love, I was playing. I would never hold you here against your will."
"I know. I know you mean well, but… seducing me is not making me stronger in anyone else's eyes."
He thought about that for a moment. "What about if you seduced me?"
"Sung!" she groaned. "Please. This is not helping."
"But -"
"Seriously, I need to get out of this cave, and I need to find my helpers, and I need to figure something out! Unless you want me weak? Is that it? Does it do something for you, Sung, that I am so breakable here? Make you feel like the hero? Is that why you chose me? Because it makes Sung feel good about Sung?"
"What? No!"
"Then what was it, Sung? What possessed you to bring me into this when you knew how different I was and how they would see that?"
A spark of anger burned in his chest. Did she think he had done this selfishly? Or intended to keep her weak?
He crawled off her, rolling to the side to sit on the platform's edge again. "I chose you, Joyce, because I had always wanted to choose you. So, yes, there was that bit of selfishness to it. But I meant what I said. If I had not been certain that you were what Anima needed, I would have given up my desires and picked a different mate for the people's good."
"If you always wanted me here, why did you not bring me here yourself? They told me the rite only happened because you refused to choose a mate. You could have married in any of those ten years, and no one would have been concerned. So, why didn't you?"
"Because I wanted you."
"Then why did you not come to get me?" Her gaze sparked, and Sung's anger and his doubt both surged. She did not have a clue. "Why not go get me yourself? Train me yourself? Prepare me for this? Why leave alone for thirteen years when I thought I would never see you again and -"
"I tried to," he murmured.
"-If you always thought of me, why not… wait, what?" she froze, gaping at him.
Sung held her eyes for a moment, then started. "I tried. I did."
"You tried what?"
"I tried to bring you here. I went to find you, to bring you here. Or at least to see if you still thought of me the way I thought of you."
"When?"
"Just before I turned eighteen."
She blinked, stunned.
"I know," he said, "it is so strange. I did not love you like this when I was ten. I did not think of you that way. But the longer I grew and strengthened, the more my thoughts would turn back to you, it… tormented me."
"You came to find me?" She gasped. "In… on my world?"
He nodded.
"But I never saw you. I know I would not have recognised you before, but if I had seen you like… like this, I would have remembered!"
"Yes, you are right. You did not see me, but I saw you."
"What!"
Sung turned to face her, and, for once, he could not read her expression. She was shocked, no doubt. But other things flitted across her face and scent, a mix of anger, fear, and confusion. He could not tell what she felt the most, perhaps because she could not.
"You are telling me… you are saying you came back to find me. About us, and you did not talk to me?" she said, her voice high and sharp.
He nodded. "You were… I thought you were already settling with someone else. And your parents, they were still there… you did not seem to need me. You were happy."
She stared, and Sung waited.
"Sung?"
"Yes, love?"
"What on God's green earth are you talking about?"
JOYCE
He could not be saying what she thought he was saying. He could not be. Joyce's heart raced, and she stared at her husband, her mate, who watched her like he was unsure whether to answer.
"Sung," she snapped. "What the hell are you talking about? When did you see me? When was I happy?"
"Why are you angry, Joyce?"
"Why? Because you are telling me you saw me but did not talk to me. That you just… assumed things about my life without asking me. And that we could have… this might have… you are saying we had a chance before! And you just… gave up? Sung, tell me, please! When did this happen? Why did you not talk to me? How the hell did you decide that I was already with someone else? I was a virgin! Who did you think -"
He raised his hands, his face down. "Just… one at a time, please, Joyce. Let me… let me tell you the story, and if you are still angry at the end, well, I guess we will deal with it then," he said, pulling himself back up onto the sleeping platform to sit next to her, facing the door. "I was seventeen by your years, I think when my father became ill and started talking to me about challenging for the throne."
"Challenging?"
"There are two ways to take the throne; if the ruler dies, the heir can step in and be challenged for it. But many heirs step in with great support from the people, so they are never challenged. However, anyone, including the heir, can challenge the ruler for dominance if the ruler is still alive. Win the throne. That was how my father wanted me to take it."
"What? Why?"
"Because the people had been through war and upheaval, and then we were in a time when people would not challenge me."
"And that is bad because?"
"Because later, if things got difficult again, if there was dissension or war, those who felt insecure would remember that I had taken the throne without ever having to fight and prove myself. They would not have evidence of my strength. They would not trust me or might challenge me thinking I am weak. My father did not want me to be challenged later, at the worst possible time, when something else was already going wrong. As he had been. When he had been forced to send me to your world. So as soon as he knew he would not recover from his illness, he started talking to me about challenging him while he was still strong so that I would be seen as the king in truth and he could die in peace, knowing it," he swallowed, and Joyce took his hand. She was still tensed, still baffled to know that he had come for her, then left; why? But… she did not like seeing him in pain and talking about his father dying hurt him. "At first, I refused to talk to him about it. Refused to believe he was dying. Then, even after I had accepted that, I refused to fight him. He became… furious. He gave me good advice, and I refused to take it. It was a very tense time between us."
"What happened?"
"My mother started talking to me about ruling, about the responsibility of a king, and how his decisions must always, first and foremost, be for the good of his people. I thought it was a political discussion; they had peppered my life since I was small. But soon, it became clear she was… aiming for something. She started to talk about how the king carried the people with him in his skin. His bones and that to die as king without certainty around who would take your place… fearing that someone might succeed you who was not suitable for the people… that was torment. She told me my father was not just trying to set me up to rule. He was trying to protect his people from being ruled by someone else. But my mother… was aware of more than the need for a solid ruler. She knew when I ascended the throne, I would stand alone. And that worried her. I had mated with females but had not found a true mate, my heart's match. She worried that I had not even been deeply interested in any of them. She knew the life of a king was, by necessity, isolated. She said I needed a partner with whom I could completely be myself. Someone who would support me even when they were angry with me; she warned me that they would get angry. A lot, she emphasised that." He smiled sadly. "And she asked me whom I knew, which females I had known in my life that made me feel safe like that. Certain of myself, comfortable, and… I immediately thought of you, Joyce," he said. Then turned and met her eyes.
She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat.
He turned away. "It was strange. It was not that I had never thought of you before; I had always thought of you with nostalgia. That sense of a childhood loss. I had always wondered what happened to you and who you had become. But… you had become unreal in my mind. A vision. When my mother asked me, I answered honestly. And she was not surprised. She told me to go for you. To find the one that would make my heart safe, then to come back and challenge my father, so they could see me settled and happy and on the throne before… before he got weak." He swallowed again. "I thought she was crazy. But the idea would not leave me alone. For a week, I got up every morning, swearing I was not going to do it, and as the day went on and as my fear for my father grew, it became almost an obsession. A compulsion. I had to find you and see if… if you were indeed the right one."
He looked at her, and Joyce held her breath.
JOYCE
"So, the night my father had a coughing fit that left him bloodied, I went. I packed a bag, and my mother gave me some quick advice, things to remember because it had been so many years since I was there. And I was going alone."
Joyce waited, but he seemed reluctant to go further. "What is it?" she asked.
"I fear your anger," he said simply. "I want you to remember I was young and naive, and I had many things on my mind then. I did not see everything through the same eyes I would now."
She nodded. "I will, Sung. I promise."
He took a deep breath. "I found you the second day. You were still in that town, which pleased me. You were not hard to find. You had moved houses, but not far. I think you were still in school, but the weather was warm, and I remembered that school stopped during those months. Anyway, when I found you… it was nighttime. You were in the backyard of your home, and you sat in the front of the fire pit, and you looked… beautiful," he said, hushed with awe. "Until that moment, I had been looking for my childhood friend, wanting to discover who she had become and if she still made me feel so sure and comfortable. But when I saw you there… something opened up inside me, Joyce."
"Carry on," Joyce said gently.
"I had been hiding in the parklands that bordered your property, and when I saw you, I was so overcome I stood straight. Had you been looking, you would have seen me. You were lit by the flames and had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and… I almost gave the mating call, which startled me so completely, that I dropped to the ground. I was afraid and confused and suddenly needy. I did not know what to do. I had never experienced that before. I crawled a short distance away and sat there for quite a while, getting myself under control again. I resolved to speak with you and see whom you had become and perhaps…."
"Perhaps what?" she breathed.
"Just perhaps, I don't know. But I knew I had to see, talk to, and hopefully, touch you. So, I hid my things and readied myself. But when I went back, you were not alone anymore. A male had joined you, and the two of you were… cuddling," he said, his voice flat for the first time since he had started talking.
Joyce bit her lip disturbed but also touched that he was so obviously unhappy about the memory of the teenage Joyce snuggling another man under a blanket. Her eyes welled because she knew the summer Sung was talking about. She remembered the guy, a year older, a year further ahead at school. And he was not significant. Not at all. But for about three weeks, she had been enthralled. Utterly obsessed with him. They had dated for months; by the end, she had realised he was a pompous ass. But for that first month… it had seemed like heaven to her sixteen-year-old self. Sung had to have shown up during those weeks when there was nothing and no one else she could think about.
"It was obvious you love him. You never took your eyes off him. And your scent…." Sung grunted and turned away.
"Sung, he was a high school crush. We dated for two months. We barely even kissed."
Sung nodded. "I can see that now. But you must understand, I had been putting off mating, not the relationship, but even the act, for years. To see you that way with him, and so focused on him… I saw it through Anima's eyes. It seemed clear that you would have mated him if he asked you, and I thought… I thought you had forgotten me. I thought I was the stupid one who had not let go of a childhood friend. But the problem was, you were… so beautiful, Joyce. I wanted you desperately."
He looked down as if he felt ashamed, and she gently turned his head to look at her. "I wish you had come and talked to me," she breathed. "I wish I'd had that choice back then, Sung. Once I overcame the shock, I would have followed you if I had known," which sparked her anger. "But you didn't tell me. You didn't even let me see you!"
She knew there was a fierce light in her eyes, but she was so angry! Why had he waited? Why had he not fought against his inner thoughts and approached her? Instead, she had been left with ungracious pawing and slobbering high school dates. The few that there were.
Sung stared at her. "I thought I was too late," he simply. "I stayed in your world for two more days. I watched your house. Though he did not stay with you, he was there often, and you always smiled more when he was close and hummed after he left. To my young eyes, you were… happy."
"Sung -"
"Do not deny your attraction to that man, Joyce. I could smell it on you."
"He was not a man; he was a boy. He wasn't trying to be my mate; he just wanted to have sex and nothing else," she said dryly. "I was obsessed with him for a few weeks, but then he showed me his true colours, and we broke up and… I wasn't happy, Sung. I was sad and lonely, and… I wish you would have come a few weeks later."
"A few weeks later, I was back in Anima, and I was king. My father was dead, and my mother was wasting away. I was convinced I would never see you again, but you had somehow become the measure by which all other females stood. And none of them did. None of them warmed my chest like the moment I saw you. I did not catch myself smiling when I thought of others. I did not… yearn."
"How, though?" she asked. "If we had not spoken, how did you know it would be like this?" she waved a hand between them.
"It's the call of the true mate," he said, touching her face. She stared up into his fierce eyes, and her heart flipped. "The act of mating is nothing to be Anima, Joyce. I gave up avoiding it after that. I hoped my heart may follow if I joined my body with other females. But it never did. After years of taking any woman that offered herself, I… stopped. I was hollowed out by it all; my heart was calling for you. Despite all the mating, I still had not taken a mate or a wife, as the people called the rite. They demanded that I find my true mate from among their ranks. And I… I did not have a choice, truly. But even in my heart… I walked into that night seething. I hate the blood rites, the brutality of them. I hated giving my heart over to someone who had killed to get it, but there was no way around it. You were gone, and I was responsible to my people… and then, somehow, impossibly, you were there…." His voice had dropped to awe again.
SUNG
"It's hard for me to explain, Joyce, how it felt to see you there that night," he turned himself to face her, pulling one of his massive legs up so his shin rested along her thigh and he could stare her full in the face. "I had spent almost ten years reminding myself that you were gone, unattainable. That we had only been children together forced me to acknowledge that there was nothing between us. I had made myself cold," his eyes were sad as he stroked her hair. "When it was time for the rite, I had steeled myself and forced myself to accept that this dream was impossible and it was time to move on. I had done it, too. I'd… I'd let myself make choices I would never have made. I forced myself to step out and… creator's light, Joyce, there's so much I would change about the period before the rite if I could and knew you would come. But that's all in the past, and I can't do anything about them now. I can only promise you, show you, that no one else has my heart or has ever owned it the way you do."
She nodded sadly. "I know, Sung, I know. I believe you; I do. I just… this is so hard, and I wish it had started differently. I wish we'd had more time. I wish you would come for me. I wish I had known it was even possible! I would have tried to come to you if I had known. I always thought about you and wondered what had happened to you. And I know if I had seen you… if I had just seen you, Sung!"
That little voice inside him urged him to tell her about Lucine, to make sure she was never blindsided by that. His first instinct was to deny it; she was already sad, angry, hurting, and uncertain. But to tell her he had mated with the woman that had almost killed her… but then he stopped. He could see how his pride, assumptions and self-confidence had influenced others and the events that had brought her here. If she learned that from the wolves, it would not be kind. It was his fault she had not known everything she needed to know, and he is to blame for why she ended up in Anima under these circumstances. So, even though he could not change the past, he could change how he stepped forward into the future.
"I feel terrible, Joyce, but there is something I must tell you," he whispered into her hair.
Her head snapped up immediately, her eyes wide and wary, "what?"
He cupped her neck and held her gaze. "Some of the choices I made when I was convinced you were never coming, and I was forced to step into a future without you… some of my actions were foolish. And others were… just wrong. And those… if they ever come out… you will be forced to face them with me," he let her see his remorse, his plea for her forgiveness and his ache to have done everything differently.
"What is it?" she whispered with fear in her voice.
Sung swallowed and dropped his hand to find hers. She let him hold her hand but never took her eyes off his face. "I told you I hate the blood rites?" She nodded. "Well… in the weeks leading up to the rite of survival, I was angry and struggling. I was forcing myself to give up on you and trying to find a way to be… enthusiastic about my future with someone else."
She sighed. "Go on."
"A few weeks before the rite, a female offered herself to me. One that I should not have touched. But I was lonely and angry, trying to convince myself that I could make it work with someone else. So, I… took what she offered."
"Who?"
Sung sighed. "Lucine."
Joyce did not move.