Anakin's Fortress - Book II (temporary cover)

Prologue - Anakin

I cannot be understood by logical reasoning but only by submission. 
Year 7

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Anakin

Revealing the truth about who I was to Kitten wasn't as simple as giving her the truth she deserved.

Because now, I cannot hide.

I cannot use Kitten's innocent fear as an anchor for my self-loathing. That ability went away the moment she turned to see my face atop my suit.

She finally knew, and yet, I fear it changed nothing. How could I return to her? How could I face her?

She would hate me.

And if she didn't?

That's worse. If I returned to see her standing there, waiting for me with a smile, after all I've done? It might destroy me.

It was so easy to hide behind my suit.

Love. Love.

Was it meant to be my downfall again?

After Kitten had enough that night in my throne room, I scooped her into my arms and trailed up the stairs to my chambers. The purpose of pushing her so far had been to make her despise me...and those feelings were probably there.

But it did nothing to smother my own affection. My desire. My addiction.

My plan had been to take her to her room.

I couldn't. I couldn't bear it, the thought of her waking up alone. Or me.

So I washed her quickly and checked her wounds. Nothing serious. Once she was in my bed, I cleaned myself up, noting the scratches down my back. Despite the last few hours, my cock began to wake up at the sight in the mirror.

I should have just stayed awake. Maybe even left.

I couldn't do that either. There wasn't anything in the entire galaxy that could pull me away from my one chance at holding Kitten.

So, I did. I crawled into my oversized bed next to her. For a while, I leaned on my elbow and watched her even face. It wasn't anything new; I'd watched her sleep for a hundred reasons, a hundred times.

Sometimes, I would return home from a mission, my humanity fractured. With rage and hate, I would go to her room.

And sometimes, it did what I wanted it to—made me angrier. I would leave, often going to train, the dark side so vivid with thoughts of eliminating her once and for all. My one, single link to my humanity, cut like a cord.

But other times, it did what I believe my subconscious wanted. Her smooth, sleeping face; her slow, even breath...it calmed me. Reminded me that I'm human. That all the mistakes in the galaxy couldn't take that away from me.

When my eyes began to droop, I pulled her to me. She made no noise, but her head moved slowly, burrowing herself into my neck and chest. She smelled clean, mixed with her scent, one I was wholly familiar with by then.

I didn't sleep anyway. Perhaps I drifted off for a few minutes at a time, but I was too aware of my delicate Kitten—who proved to me she wasn't actually fragile time and time again. Given the resources and support, she could have half the galaxy on its knees, I think.

My clever, focused, beautiful Kitten. So humble, always thinking she could improve, that she could learn more. Always putting everyone else before herself. Never acknowledging that she possessed the mind of a genius. A woman whose loyalty was unmatched for anyone who earned it—and at least one person who didn't.

I've earned nothing from her.

When the sun began peaking through the window and her ass pressed gently into me, I got up. She absolutely did not need to wake up with me inside her.

The darkness that joined our night was gone. I felt no rage, no hate. I only felt sorrow and remorse. I didn't even try to fight it.

Though I could admit: Her response upon waking up to my voice may have shattered something within me. I knew then that we might not be fixable. I assumed as much, but to see her deny me, to truly deny me...

I couldn't blame her.

I left, and listened to her break. And between you and me, I broke too.

I leaned my back against the wall, and that first broken sob that escaped her snapped my heart. I slid down the wall and covered my face over my knees, and I listened.

The tears fell from my eyes, dripping onto the floor beneath me. I did not feel like a human, was barely aware of my actual feelings and physical presence. I was only aware of the sounds coming across the threshold to my rooms, to the feelings she sent into the Force by the sheer magnitude of them.

And then, I left.

And I dove deep back into the dark side—for if there was one thing I understood, it was that Palpatine could never find out that something inside me had fractured altogether.

That's how I got here, three months after revealing my identity to Kitten, landing my shuttle in my private hanger above my fortress. And Kitten, standing there with her arms crossed and a look of pure rage across her face.

But rage? Rage is good. She had, after all, said she wanted to still be angry when I returned.

Rage does not equate to hate. Because if she hated me, she would not be standing there, waiting for me.

Rage, I can handle. Her emotions, I can handle.

It is indifference that I never want to see upon her soft features, not toward me.

And those eyes, staring up into my viewscreen as if she can see right through it?

Those are not indifferent eyes.

Those are the eyes of a woman scorned, a woman with three months of words saved up just for me.

Unfortunately for her, she'll have to wait to scorn me because I am, once again, coming to her with broken bones and blood dripping down my body.

Why? Because there is only one person I trust to see me so vulnerable.

And there is only one person I want to recover with. I don't plan on dying today. But if I did, I would choose her face to be the last one I saw.

The woman I love. My Kitten—my entire heart. The one, single light in my dark, twisted world.