Zepharos was clearly feeling it in full force as he fumbled with his door, pushing it open and pulling his woman inside in a rush, so great was his excitement. She saw the outline of his straining cock clearly through his clothing, and she felt a surge of heat between her legs in spite of herself.

This was wrong. It should have been Heydar. But this strange alien force was living in her flesh, a symbiotic part of her, the different pigments working with her to enhance her natural abilities. And it was those that were now drawing her to this man.

He was a fine one, there was no doubt about that. Hell, not so long ago she had been quite open to the idea of taking him inside her and milking him for all he was worth. But it felt different this time. Not quite right, though her aching pussy and the Infala drawing her to this man were doing their best to change her mind on that point.

Zepharos yanked his shirt off, revealing his well-muscled physique. It was just as good as she had remembered it, though not as large and cut as Heydar’s. Zepharos moved closer, his Infala rune churning on his flank as he drew near, Darla’s Infala sending a surge of endorphins through her body as well, pulling her to him.

Sex was in the air. Desire. Pheromones and lust the likes of which she had never sensed before. The pigment was heightening her sensitivity as never before, her nipples hard and sensitive to the slightest shift of the fabric of her top, her clit likewise humming with anticipation.

Her folds were slick with want, all but begging for him to drive into her. To take her over and over, locking their Infalas together in a glorious moment of union. Zepharos was now right in front of her, so close she could feel the heat from his body through her clothing. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, sliding her hand into his trousers.

Darla’s fingers wrapped around his cock automatically, the hot length of it filling her hand, pulsating as he moved her arm back and forth, stroking himself with her hand, using her to pleasure himself before he had his way with her.

His cock was respectably large and rigid, more than enough for any woman’s pleasure. But Darla had been spoiled by something more, and found the lack of those delicious raised ridges of Heydar’s girth a disappointment. She felt the slickness of Zepharos’s pre-cum in her palm as he worked her hand faster, using his free hand to push his trousers down, exposing himself fully to her.

Darla looked down. He was shaved bare, as she had felt when he forced her hand down his trousers, but was lacking any rune at all on his pubis. It seemed that was just another perk she was supposed to get used to forgetting about.

“No,” she said, releasing her grip and pulling her hand free of his hold.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“I need a minute here, okay. It’s a lot to take in.”

“And take it in you will. Every inch of it. Now come to me. It has been decided.”

“No. Wait a minute.”

“Do not be a child,” he sneered, his passion momentarily flaring to anger. “There is nothing to think about. We are to be as one. Now, come to me!”

He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her close. Darla raised her hands between them purely on instinct.

“I said wait!” she yelled, pushing him hard. Not with her body, however, but with her essence.

Her runes reacted to her distress, overriding the draw of the Infala and blasting out to the perceived aggressor. Zepharos gasped in pain, his breath knocked from his chest as he fell over, thrown to the ground by the white-hot rage coursing through Darla’s body.

“W-what are you?” he gasped, writhing in agony.

She looked down on him lying there, his erection gone, now looking like no more than any other sleazy man on the prowl.

“I’m Darla, of Earth,” she said, turning for the door. “And I am not your mate.”

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The Oraku in the street were shocked when they saw Darla burst from Zepharos’s home. Not only had the pair only just entered a short time ago, but she emerged unruffled, distinctly not bearing the look of a woman ravaged.

More than that, however, something else made them all suck in a breath, shocked to their cores. She looked mad, and the tattoos were alive under her clothing, shifting and swirling with agitation. And more than that, they were glowing.

“Where’s Heydar?” she demanded of the first person she saw, grabbing them perhaps a little too hard in her haste.

“I do not know!” the man blurted, fearful of what this strange human creature might be capable of.

Darla growled in frustration. “Ugh, you’re useless. Does anyone know where Heydar is?” she called out, scanning the worried faces.

One of them, a child who had not yet learned to be quite as afraid as his elders, pointed down the way between a row of wooden homes. Darla took off in that direction, glowing even more fiercely, the light shining out from beneath her garments.

She didn’t know which of the quarters they had housed Heydar in, so she started pushing open doors. After shocking the hell out of several unsuspecting people, she found him in a dimly lit room, sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.

He looked up at her, his spirit broken, his eyes wet with grief he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand. Ever proud, this one, he rose to his feet and straightened himself up as best he could.

“Heydar, I—”

“I cannot do this,” he said quietly, attempting to walk around her.

Darla stepped in front of him. “Hang on there, buddy.”

His gleaming violet eyes locked on hers, his clear pain making her heart break.

“It is done,” he said. “And I am not strong enough to handle this. Not now.”

He tried to step around her again, and once more she blocked his path.

“Darla, please—”

“No,” she declared plainly, reaching out and ripping his shirt open with her bare hands, then pulling her own top off and throwing it aside. The radiance of her ink was growing, illuminating the room.

“What happened to you? What are you do—”

Darla ignored the question, slapping her palm square against the Infala lying dormant on his chest. Her ink flared even brighter, the powerful white pigment coursing through her skin, driving the lesser colors away, taking over, channeling all of their energy through her, driven by her sheer force of will.

The dark Infala etched into her clavicle shuddered and twitched, then began to melt away as Heydar watched with his eyes wide with shock. The light moved again, flowing through the lines he had inked on her body, moving to the space between her breasts, the pigment knitting itself into a new rune entirely. An Infala. One of her own making. She had been freed of the dark ink’s bond between her and Zepharos, and not by death, but by her own choice. Her will.

Heydar felt a flare of pain in his chest as his own Infala seemed to burst into flame within his skin. He jerked back, but Darla’s iron grip reached out with her other hand and grabbed hold hard, holding him to her.

It took several long moments of searing pain before something new emerged from the agony. It started out subtly, a mild tingle where pain had been, growing steadily into a hot thrumming that beat with his heart. With her heart as well, the power of their two beings intertwined, locked together, inseparable.

Darla released her grip, her pigment fading to its normal low luminescence. Nearly all of her dark ink had been replaced, forced to become no more than accent marks where they had formerly claimed dominance.

She lifted her hand from his chest and raised it to his cheek with a gentle caress. Heydar looked down where the dark ink he had borne had once been. Somehow, impossibly, Darla’s pigment had flowed into him, banishing his Infala and replacing it with a new one. One that bonded him to his true love. A lasting mark forged not by chance but by want and will.