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The bat sighed, stretching her paw-feet, turning beneath the thin, smooth sheets (too hot for blankets, being late summer), rolling from her left side to her right, restlessly. The mattress creaked on its springs. Which, in turn, made the wooden bed-frame to groan. She hugged herself with her wing-arms, her sweeping, sonar-equipped ears swiveling impatiently as her head changed locations atop the downy-soft pillow. This was the third time she'd woken up tonight. She tried to think good, pleasing thoughts. Thoughts about him.

She was facing him, now. Her partner. He lay motionless. Bare, furry chest rising and falling with each breath, and his nostrils flaring with cute, involuntary accordance. His periwinkle fur (male bats had blue fur, females had pink) glowed innocently, so sweetly in the pale moonlight coming through the open-aired window. Watching him sleep always made her smile. She didn't know why. There was nothing exciting about being unconscious. It was, in a way, a living death. Should be horrifying. But the subtle rise and fall of his belly. The twitches. The errant, sighing squeaks. (Maybe he was dreaming about her?) It was all so peaceful and reassuring.

Aldridge was his name. The sleeping male. He'd started out as her 'assignment.'

She, named Akira, worked (loosely termed; she didn't exactly get paid in money) for a rogue group of bats, a band of telepaths. Less than one percent of the population was born with such a gift. Or was it a talent? Maybe a curse. Though their mental powers could (and often were) used for pleasurable, sexual purposes, the populace nonetheless feared invasions of privacy, loss of secrets. Being unduly influenced. Which was why telepaths, more often than not, were disliked to the point of persecution. It was hard to prove who was or wasn't one unless they carelessly tipped their paw, though. So, paranoia would stubbornly spread. Inquisitions would sometimes follow. It was like walking on eggshells.

There weren't enough of these 'rogues,' as they'd been culturally branded, to launch a military campaign. Besides, violence only bred bitterness and resentment. Best to avoid that. The only real weapons they had were their minds. So, that's what they used. And, in doing so, perhaps justified the public's fears, after all. Hypnosis. Mind control. Persuasion. Call it what you will. It became fairly easy to throw the government off their tracks. But it only kept them a few steps ahead. Never completely safe.

They were tired of hiding and suppressing their abilities and figured, ultimately, the best way to gain equal rights was to convince the ruling family to pardon them. After all, the monarchy's word was law, wasn't it? The senate had its own powers, of course, but the royal family's influence gave them final say.

The current king and queen had three sons and four daughters. Quite a roost. Aldridge was the oldest son. Twenty-seven and hitherto un-mated. He was thoughtful, analytical. He was also very private, usually keeping to himself. Was a rather intense artist, too, making poems and paintings he never shared with the public. His father forbade it. Art was well and good as a connoisseur, an appreciator. But making it? That was for the lower classes ...

At a secret 'rogue' meeting a month ago, out in the woods a few miles from the small, lakeside town, someone had mentioned seeing Aldridge in the art district, noting that he'd paid a special amount of interest to the more 'erotic' works. He'd bought a piece or two. Up front, with gold coinage. A nude sculpture. An abstract painting of a sexual scene. Having been heard to remark on their romantic qualities. Lamenting, with a sad, bashful sigh, "You rarely see true passion, nowadays, do you? Real commitment. It's all just passing lust."

"He's a romantic, that one," the informant insisted. Barrow was his name. He was a medic in real life. They all had duties in society, aside from being telepathic insurgents. Amongst Barrow's talents was his hearing. His use of sonar, or 'echo-bursting,' was masterful. He'd eavesdropped on plenty of private conversations. He could probably pen a tell-all book, someday. "If we want to influence the rest of his family, we do it through him. I'm telling you, he's hopeless."

"Everyone is acting like this is easy," another bat, also male, said, stretching his wings in front of a sycamore-fueled wood-fire. The membranes, in the glow of the flames, appeared almost translucently powder blue. The bones looking like bold outlines. "Getting another individual under your complete control takes time. Weeks. Bit by bit. Almost all of them resist."

"Unless you make it worth their while," Barrow countered, slyly. "We infiltrate facets of government constantly. Why not the royal family? I'm surprised we haven't tried it before."

"Because it's risky, and there aren't many of us. If we fail, it could compromise the security of the whole group."

Barrow waved a paw. A half-paw, more like, as bats' paws were more thumbs than anything else. "We've just not had an 'easy in' before. Now, we do."

"The royal family's guards are trained to pick up on techniques and behaviors of telepaths. They'll find out," the bat by the fire insisted, beginning to pace back and forth. His bare foot-paws leaving ashy prints in the dirt.

"Not if we send Akira."

The pink bat had looked up, at that. She'd not been paying much attention, to be honest. These meetings were normally just 'venting sessions' for the males, in particular. Always complaining about things. Forums were often like that. "What?"

"You're an accomplished telepath," Barrow insisted. "With more finesse than most."

"Meaning?" She sat up straighter, on her rump. Her short, rudder-like tail veering off to the side, rustling the grass. Her fur appeared almost red in the firelight. She cut a striking figure. Like an avenging angel.

"You have a deceptively delicate touch," Barrow whispered, hotly. He knew from experience. Their minds had 'met' before. Well, minds and bodies both. But that was another story. "And assuming most of the royal guards are male, you can butter them up better than one of us could. You'll never be caught."

She let this sink in for a moment, supposing it was a compliment. Asking, "What if the prince falls in love with me?"

"That's the whole point."

"I know, but ... "

" ... you win him over, and then once you have him wrapped around your wingtip, you can pick off the rest of his family one by one. You get them to do what we want, which is ... "

" ... full pardon," a fourth bat injected.

"Equal rights," squeaked another.

"Amnesty," Barrow added, with authority. "They let us be, and we'll let them be. We'll agree to not infiltrate their minds unless asked or something. That'll assuage them."

"Are you sure we can adhere to that? We can't help but use our powers," Akira whispered. It was an addicting experience. Exotic, invigorating. To explore someone's essence? To control them? Once you'd done it and avoided detection, realizing there was nothing stopping you from doing it again (aside from your own conscience) ...

"I don't know. I don't care. At the moment, anything we can do to get them off our backs. When they stop trying to expose us, we'll adapt accordingly. Or do you think they're right about us? That we're dangerous to society?"

"Of course I don't," Akira insisted, with a frown. "I'm passionate about the cause. I just don't see things in black and white like you do. I'm more deliberate."

"Oh, so I'm reckless?" Barrow challenged.

"You're putting words in my mouth," she said.

He spread his wings. An 'I come unarmed' gesture. "Not my intention. We need you. I just want to be sure we're on the same page."

"I know."

"Then you'll take the assignment."

She sighed, tensely. "There are princesses. Why don't you go through one of them?"

"Bedding future queens?" was the cheeky response. "Oh, I'm sure they're brimming with repression. A plebian like me could really teach 'em the ropes." A sharp, toothy grin. "But, aside from the guards and everything else I've mentioned," he added, seriously, "the king is more far particular about who his daughters date. From past observation, the princesses' lovers are watched at all times. I guess he's afraid they'll get pregnant and cause a scandal. If the sons impregnate someone, it's easier to cover it up. Not so much with the daughters."

Akira frowned. "That's sexist."

"I'm not denying that. But one revolution at a time," Barrow replied, quietly. By the force of his personality, he normally served as group speaker. He looked around, waiting for further objections. Getting none, he continued, to Akira, "What really makes this plan work is that the Prince Aldridge is a total loner. He's the easiest to get to. He's a daydreamer, which means he's more open to persuasion. Often goes to the lakeside, to one of the royal cabins. To make art on his own. Unwatched ... "

"No guards?" a female bat asked, from the dark.

"No. The locals like him. They take it upon themselves to stick up for him if need be." Barrow took a deep breath, looking to Akira. "What more can I do to convince you? Why are you hesitating?"

"I don't know," she admitted, honestly, taking a deep breath. The flames from the fire flickering, reflectively, in her eyes. "I guess I've never had anyone under long-term control. It's always been temporary hypnosis. Few days, at most. You're asking for weeks, maybe months. It could permanently alter his mind. Like a drug."

"You're being overly dramatic. He's led a privileged life. Don't feel sorry for him." A head-tilt, squinting his deep-blue eyes. "You never struck me as a romantic, yourself. A lover, yes. But a potential mate? Afraid you'll lose your objectivity?"

"No," she said, biting her lower lip. She had a reputation as a tough, confident female. Efficient, in control. Independent and aloof. She had no family. All she had were her fellow rogues. She didn't want to let them down ...

"Akira? I need a commitment."

She nodded, quietly. "Yes, I'll do it ... "

Barrow smiled, with a flash o' fangs. "Good." He flapped his wing-arms once or twice, excitedly, asking, "Now, someone was supposed to bring cicadas and fruit ... "

Akira, still in bed, having moved onto her back, now, stared at the shadows on the wood-beam ceiling. Aldridge's now-familiar scent filled her nose. And she liked it. Sighing, she thought back to a few weeks ago, beyond that meeting. When she'd first 'gotten' to him ...

The elder prince was on his back in the sand, wearing only shorts (swim-trunks, more precise). With an open book and a green-glassed bottle of white wine beside him. He'd gotten distracted. (And tipsy, too. His mind was buzzing in more ways than one.) Started cloud-watching. They were rolling in, slowly, getting fluffier. Greyer. Like sailing ships gearing for war. Probably a storm coming later. Maybe a strong one. He happened to look aside, lazily, for no reason. It was only then, with a startled hiccup, that he realized he wasn't alone. He should've sensed it sooner, but ...

... off to the left, in the distance. There. Yeah, right there. The bright pink fur popped out amongst the earthy greens and browns. Reflected, too, upon the water. It was unmistakably a female bat. She was wading in the shallows. She was, uh ... wearing nothing ...

The light-blue male immediately propped himself up by his elbows, then clambered to his knees, flapping his wing-arms to get the itchy layer of sand off. His heart was beating faster. Adrenaline in his blood. It was just him and her. He swallowed as he eyed the alluring stranger. Well, maybe she didn't see me? I was laying down, after all. I don't want to frighten her. If she finds out that I'm the king's son, she might get terribly embarrassed.

But he couldn't look away. His instinct wouldn't allow it. (Her telepathic gravity was already pulling at him.) She was beautiful. Like the models in the erotic paintings he collected. He watched for several minutes as she went from an upright waddle to a horizontal float. Her breasts like islands, now, sticking above the freshwater surface. The prince stood up, in a daze. Almost pitching over. The wine. He rubbed his forehead and shuffled down the temperate beach.

Using her body as the initial lure, Akira floated on her back, closing her eyes. It was peaceful, really. Must've felt similar to flying. Bats weren't capable of actual flight anymore. Their wings were just holdovers from millennia ago, when their bodies had been smaller and lighter. Sometimes, she flew in her dreams. The details were never clear upon waking. Just abstract bursts of freedom. Maybe that's what it'd feel like when she and the fellow rogues were finally accepted into society, when she could use her telepathy without repercussion: like finally being able to fly.

She knew the prince was coming toward her. The breeze was blowing in this direction, and it carried his scent. Plus, her mind was keyed onto him. Tracking his emotional state. It was almost too easy. He was so eager. So innocent, really. If someone at twenty-seven could even be called that. (She was two years younger, herself.) He didn't want to hurt anyone. In all honesty, he might even support the rogues' cause if asked without manipulation. He was that liberal. But they (Akira and the rest) couldn't take that chance, could they? They needed a sure thing. No mistakes.

Aldridge, within speaking distance, blunt-clawed toes digging into the mix of sand and water, found his words catching on the tip of his long, wily tongue. He tried to spit them out. Ended up saying, rather self-consciously, " ... uh ... miss? I don't mean to ... I mean, I just ... "

" ... eek!" Akira cried, splashing and submerging into the clear, cool water. 'Til she was covered up to her neck. Paddling with her wing-arms. "I didn't know anyone else was here. I'm so sorry!"

" ... oh, no ... don't be." He swallowed. "I should be sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't see anything," he promised, quickly. Like a true gentleman. Before mumbling, "Not much, anyway. Only enough to notice that you're, uh ... female ... "

"An astute observation," she teased, drinking up the sight of his bare, toned chest, navy-blue nipples and all. "You're male."

He nodded eagerly.

She tried to hide the smile. But it was no use. "I'm visiting my aunt and uncle for the coming holidays," she said, spitting water from her maw. "I thought this beach was unclaimed." She began moving for shallower water, wanting to be able to stand. Paddling was exhausting her wing muscles.

"It usually is. I'm only here on weekends," he explained. "I, uh ... and not every day."

"So, you're a landowner?"

"In a way." He sounded evasive. His inclination toward privacy often prevented him from giving out more details than were needed. "I mean, it's not my beach, fully, but ... " She doesn't know who I am, does she? Change the subject. "It was just so nice out, I had to swim and lay about, myself. Of course, I used a swimsuit. I see you didn't ... "

"There are certain things best experienced 'in the fur'," she told him.

"What would those be?"

"Swimming, sleeping ... other things that begin with 'S' ... " She showed her tongue as she said this.

"Ah. I, uh ... I see." He blew out a breath, feeling a little addled. She was a dominant character. He could tell. And he liked that. "Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"Make sure you do."

He swallowed, bending down to pick up her bathing suit. It came in two pieces. Small pieces. "If you wanna come ashore, I'll toss these to you, and I'll ... you know, I'll turn around. You can get dressed. If you want," he added.

Akira giggled at that last bit, giving him a playful wink. "Thanks. I think I will." The top curves of her breasts stuck above the gently sloshing water, now. Very much on purpose. "You know, chivalry is such a rare quality, anymore," she noted.

"I guess I'm a classical sort. In art and behavior." The prince turned around, shyly.

"Really? What do you do?" She finally waded out, nakedly, the water sloshing around her inviting thighs and soaking into her soft, pink pelt. She felt about five pounds heavier than normal. Flapping and shaking, she shed a few of those pounds, though still remained rather wet. Stepping into her bikini bottom, first, seeing he wasn't answering, she pressed, "Are you a government official?" She pulled the bottom up, and then raised her loose, string-tie top to her breasts. "I need help, if you don't mind."

Aldridge took an audible breath. He was nervous. Poor thing. "I, uh ... are you ... " He turned around, slowly, eyes wide.

"My breasts won't bite. I promise. If that's what you're worried about. I can't say the same for my maw, though." A playful show of fangs, covering her front with a wing-arm, for modesty's sake. "I just need you to tie my top. From the back. Can you handle that?"

"I think so. I don't think I got your name," he told her, shuffling forward. She was like a siren. But, instead of crashing into her, he skirted around, ending up behind. Her curved, fertile hips. That rump. As pink as cotton candy, her fur. And surely it tasted as sweet. He wanted to worm his tongue through the damp, matted softness and suck it to a dry, fluffy state. Oh, Lord, your thoughts, Aldridge. Calm down. Life isn't like your romance novels. Besides, there are things about me she can't know.

"I'll tell you my name when you answer my questions." Akira breathed in, deeply, looking o'er her shoulder at the male. He'd finished tying her top. He was handsome. He kept in great shape. And his shyness was rather endearing. It was downright cute. How was it he was mate-less? It just wasn't possible.

"I'm Aldridge."

"Named after the prince?"

"Uh ... uh. Well." He licked his fangs and lips. "I am the prince."

"Really, now?" she cooed, seductively. Feigning surprise.

"Mm-hmm. Your eyes are purple," he whispered. "I, uh ... " He stammered. "I've actually never seen that color before. Only in paintings."

"Purple's not that uncommon. Wild irises. Sunsets, on occasion. You should get out more."

"I meant purple eyes. That's quite rare, I'd imagine. Most females I've met have magenta eyes, or ... you know, off-pink. Yours are deep. Rich. Like eggplant."

"Plum, actually," she corrected, with a giggle. "Damson plum. Do you like plums?"

A dumb, quiet nod. Eyes locked to hers. Unable to pull away. "Of course. I actually like apples better, but ... " Deep breath. " ... my family has an orchard. I have fond memories of apples."

"You like something big and juicy. Something you can sink your fangs into," she told him.

Aldridge swallowed. Very nearly swooned, in fact. "I must admit, in all seriousness, you are a very tempting fruit. I believe I would fall from grace for you."

"Such poetry. You flatter me, sir," she breathed, inching closer. Her heart was fluttering. She hadn't expected to be this attracted to him. But, oh, was she. (Settle down, Akira. You have a job to do.) Her eyes dilated like tide-pools, like black holes. She batted them. Exotic and irresistible. He couldn't look away. But it wasn't her eyes that did the bulk of the work. It was actually her invisible, telepathic tendrils, like 'feelers' of mental energy. Which eased into his mind. He was very pliable. Naturally submissive. He didn't put up an ounce of fight. Barrow was correct in saying that Aldrige was an 'easy in.'

With full vertigo, blue eyes glazing, he fell under her control. Completely. No willpower, merely hanging onto her every word and suggestion. He ached to do her bidding.

"You want a mate." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he breathed, obediently. Barely audible above the increasingly-busy breeze.

"Why don't you have one? You're very rich, handsome, intelligent ... makes no sense. Are you sick?"

"No."

"Just shy or something?"

"Yes ... a little ... "

He was holding something back. A secret or two. Everyone had secrets. That wasn't surprising. But his were deeply compartmentalized. She was having trouble unwrapping them. "When you answer me, you say, 'yes, Akira'," she corrected, firmly, tracing her thumb down the middle of his furry chest. Slowly and salaciously. "Understood?"

"Yes," he whispered, "Akira."

"Good boy." She exhaled, and her breasts sank down as she did. Cleavage brazenly evident.

A pleasured shiver raced up the male's spine.

"Now, why don't you have a mate, Prince Aldridge? The truth."

"Waiting," he breathed, dizzily, "to be in love. Waiting for true love." But there was something more. There had to be. She felt it. She tried to get to it, tried to unravel the last layers of his mind. But couldn't. It was jarring. He was so easy to control, otherwise! Completely compliant, he muttered, " ... don't trust ... not easy to trust others."

"Why's that?" She felt a pang in her heart, easing up on him, wondering, aloud, "Are you a virgin?"

"No ... "

Her telepathic feelers wrapped more tightly around him, like metaphysical vines. She kept him hypnotized. Forced his mind to marinate in her aura. Continuing, "But you wish you were. A virgin. And mated. Although I guess you wouldn't be the former if you were the latter." She took the answers herself. No waiting. "Females have lured you in the name of love. But they just wanted fame, didn't they? To say they slept with royalty? To claim a piece of you? Some even tried to get pregnant by you. You learned your lesson quickly. You closed your heart to all but art and dreams ... you're scared of getting hurt again ... " She trailed off, before adding, "You fall in love too easily. Far too easily. Your family makes fun of you for it."

"Yes, Akira," was all he could say.

She blushed beneath her pink fur, suddenly struggling with her morals. Are you any better than those females that broke his heart? You're taking advantage of him. Using him for your own purposes. Just like they did. Yes, but he's never going to find out. I can ensure that. But, surely, that's not the point. It doesn't matter if he won't know, because you will. You'll be aware. The burden of what happens to him is all on you.

He looked at her, dumbly smitten. Waiting for further instruction.

"At ease." She let out a deep, shaky breath. "That means relax." She tapped into his emotional core, feeding off his energy. Addicted to the rush it gave her. Felt his yearning. Such deep, erotic desires. And she, a little carelessly, became swept away by them, wanted nothing more than to fulfill them. Not just because it was her 'assignment' to seduce him. But because she, too, was alone. When you were a telepath, you couldn't really mate with 'normal' furs. Not without them eventually finding out. And she hadn't been willing to risk that. So, she bred with Barrow and a few of the other rogues, now and then. But it was just for release. Not for love. It wasn't enough. Maybe she could take a chance with Aldridge? Maybe it was worth the risk.

Akira couldn't help but notice how much pleasure he was getting from being controlled like this. Which, honestly, surprised her a little. It wasn't normally the response she got from males. They normally struggled. Their egos became bruised. But he was naturally submissive. He liked strong, confident females, because he put them on par with the goddesses in his revered literature and art. "When I click my tongue," she told him, "you'll snap out of it. For now." A pause. "And then you'll invite me to your cabin. Where nature will eventually take its course ... "

A promise of love, in a way. Or, at the very least, sex. (Though weren't the two intrinsically linked?) Akira tried to convince herself that this was just a convenient illusion. Instant and disposable. That was all, right? Love at first sight wasn't a real thing. That doesn't happen in real life. Because love is never that easy. It requires hardship and sacrifice. Everyone knows that. And, yeah, the rest of his family isn't going to be this easy to control. But we'll worry about that later. One individual at a time. Prey on the desires. Fulfill them in some way. Give and take.

God, you sound like a parasite, Akira. No wonder telepaths are hunted! Hey, I didn't ask to be one, did I? I was born this way. I can't suppress these abilities. I have to use them. I want to use them. I like it. I'm proud of my heritage. This is who I am ... now, snap the poor prince out of it. Those clouds are looking scarier by the minute.

So, she clicked her tongue.

Aldridge blinked, looking around. "Akira ... "

"Mm?" she went, coyly, as if nothing had happened.

"Clouds are rolling in. I think it may storm soon. Perhaps you'll come to my cabin?" He extended a wing-arm, warmly.

She smiled a strained smile of faux-surprise and allowed his wing-arm to wrap around her side. It felt good. "Well, if you insist ... "

Four hours later, in the dark, with the waves crashing against heavy, caked sand and very nearly, in violent swells, reaching the base of the cabin, the two bats writhed wildly in the dark. On his old but comfortable bed. While rain assaulted the roof, their clothes had literally been torn off, cast asunder. They weren't needed anymore.

Periwinkle fur sliding across and meshing with pink, and pink, the warmer of the two colors, rising dominantly to the fore. Akira to a cowgirl straddle, gyrating her fertile hips, her wet, silky tunnel having swallowed up his thick, rigid essence like a scabbard sheathing a sword. Her mental feelers digging into the crevices of his mind. Seductive and hypnotic. Neither able to hold back, surrendering to their animal instincts, the need to control and be controlled, to collide, bump and grind. The billion year-old bliss of male-female friction. Oh, their bodies countered the storm. Rolling like thunder and crashing down like waves, reeling the senses. Until they just couldn't endure it any longer.

They'd both been pent up. It had been too long. Squeaks and echo-bursts from them both, and desperate, squelching thrusts. Just a few more. A few. More. Oh! Yes! Five minutes after initial penetration, his seed was blasting, in sharp, involuntary spurts, against her dipping cervix, prompted, in part, by the wild fluttering of her vaginal walls. Her nectar streamed down his gorged, sensitive organ, soaking into his tufted sac-fur.

Akira hung her head, slumping forward. She felt heady and delirious. Outside, lighting struck, very near the shore. Brightening the entire bedroom. Silhouetting their bodies. Then came the obligatory thunderclap, rattling the windowpanes.

"Akira ... " The male was panting in ebbing ecstasy.

"Yes?" She licked his neck. Right above his pulse. Tracing the outline of the artery with her fangs. Her breasts (hardened nipples and all) squishing down against his heaving chest as she finally laid down atop him.

"That was a command performance. A work of living art," he rambled, high on afterglow. Hugging her with both his wing-arms. "Things I haven't felt before. It's what I've always imagined it could be ... "

" ... sex, you mean?" she breathed, against his cheek, now. Mouthing the fur. Sucking on his jaw-line. Their lips were so very close. She wanted to kiss him. Badly. He tasted good. But she held off so he could speak. No one had ever spoken to her so passionately. She wanted to hear more.

"Oh, but that's too crude a name. Yes, it's ... " And there was the kiss. She couldn't resist, after all. Sloppy, sensual, and succulent. Another flash of lightning, even closer. The thunder vibrated them to their bones. " ... mm. Mh-h ... " And it broke. With a tongue-tied smack. " ... oh, Akira," he finished, with a deep breath. "I feel transcendent. Like, beyond words."

"You should calm down. We just met," she reminded him, bumping her nose against his. But it sounded hollow. Because, truth be told, she felt the same way. The sex had been amazing. The chemistry palpable. It wasn't normally like that. It was happening too fast.

"I'm hopeless, aren't I?"

"Yes. But maybe it doesn't have to be a bad thing." She reengaged her telepathic tendrils. Digging into his mind. Pulling at him. "Does it?"

"N-no ... " His eyes glazed over. "No, it doesn't ... "

Akira had managed, over the next few weeks, to 'get' to a few of the prince's family members, too. Subconsciously brainwashing them into embracing the idea of amnesty for the rogues. Once a week, she reported her progress back to the group (in that same spot in the woods). They were obviously pleased.

But she neglected to tell them that she wasn't really controlling Aldridge anymore. Not wholly, not mentally. Just for pleasure. (And there was a lot of that.) He was so well trained. She didn't really need to keep him on a telepathic leash, did she? She gave him his leeway. She trusted him. And wanted to know, inside, that he could trust her, too. For who she really was. She was severely tempted to tell him the truth. But each time she tried, he would only cut her off and reply, dreamily, "What do you mean you have to tell me the truth? Love is truth."

She was never sure how to counter that. It seemed so perfectly idealistic. But the world wasn't perfect or ideal. He was a prince. He'd been protected his whole life. He couldn't possibly know the struggles of the lower classes, or, indeed, how it felt to have to hide your true nature from the world.

And, if love was, indeed, truth, then how much of their relationship was real to begin with? How much of his love for her was genuine? As opposed to how much had been merely crafted by her hypnotic suggestions and cemented with sex? She had never been this confused before. She was losing her objectivity. (As Barrow had suggested. He might've been a bastard, but he was intuitive.) She enjoyed using Aldridge, but how could she know if he enjoyed being used unless she asked when he was lucid? Unless he knew what she was doing to him?

All of this led to her current restless night, to the tossing and turning. She'd made her decision. She was going to tell him the truth. It was a risk, sure. But it was hers to take. She knew Aldridge wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't tell. But would he still love her? Or would he kick her out? She was almost sick with anxiety.

She nudged his belly. Gently caressed his side. And then, finally, used her mind to stir him awake. "Aldridge ... "

" ... mm?" A flash o' fangs as he yawned, widely. Needing a moment before asking, "What's wrong? It's not morning ... "

"No. I can't sleep," she breathed.

"Why not?" he whispered back, reaching a wing-arm around her. Pulling her even closer. All smiles and snuggles. Their bare bodies coming together in the late-summer heat. She could almost feel his heartbeat. Or was that her imagination?

"I have to tell you something."

"Me, too," he told her, with a sleepy, happy smile.

"No, darling, I'm serious."

"You think I'm not?" he replied. "I mean, I guess it could wait. We shouldn't be awake, anyway, but ... since we are? I love you so much. Akira," he sighed, speaking against her cheek. "This past month has been like a hazy dream. I, uh ... I want you to be my mate," he blurted. "I know we're already breeding. We're living together. But I mean, officially. A ceremony. A ring. The real deal." He paused, letting her digest this. "My parents will want to throw something huge and extravagant. We may have to put up with that. They'll make you a princess, but, uh ... that doesn't mean anything will change between us, you know?" He traced her side, including the curve of her breast. "I'd like to move here into the lake cabin, permanently. It's only a day's journey from the capital. I'm not needed there right now, anyway."

She closed her eyes, listening to him. Trying to act nonchalant. "I don't care about being a princess."

"I know. But it's not like you have to go around in fancy dress. And my sisters would be in line for power before you. It's just a title."

"And so is 'mates'."

"But it means something. It's a commitment. A promise to each other. It's special." He paused for a moment. "Don't you feel the same way about me?"

"Of course," she mouthed, weakly. A lump was forming in her throat.

"Then what's the matter?"

"You don't know me." She sounded sullen, now, unable to make eye contact.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm ... I'm a telepath. A rogue." She blurted it out against his chest. The words muffling into his periwinkle fur right above his heart. She felt like glass. "I've been using my powers to control you. To get to your family."

" ... oh."

"But I do love you, Aldridge. I do. Believe me. Please." That sounded shallow. To ask for his trust after she'd just destroyed it.

He didn't really say anything.

"Look," she continued, a little desperately. "It's not as bad as it sounds. But I just wanted you to know ... "

"You were waiting for me on the beach. That day. It was on purpose," he realized.

Her eyes watered, and she could only nod.

"If you wanted help, why didn't you just come to me and ask? I'm not that intolerant."

"I know that, now," she insisted. "But at the time, we were still a little afraid you would say no. We just had to be sure things went our way."

The male bat fell silent again.

Feeling like a fool, Akira sat up. The sheets fell off her body, exposing her fur. Her breasts. She covered them with a wing, as if it were suddenly inappropriate for him to see them. As if she were now embarrassed of her body. "I'm sorry." Her back to him. She stood up, slowly.

"Where are you going?" he asked, painfully.

"You only love me because I wanted you to. This isn't real. I doubt you want me to stay in your bed."

"Akira, it is real ... "

"I wish I could be sure of that."

"You can," he insisted.

"How?" She turned to look at him, still covering her body.

He sighed and then admitted, "I'm a telepath, too."

He eyes widened. "What?" she exclaimed, dropping her wings. Kneeling back on the edge of the bed. "No. That's not possible! I hypnotized you. Repeatedly."

"I know. I, uh ... I really enjoy that." He sounded sheepish. "I let it happen."

"But I didn't sense your powers," she continued, bewilderedly. "I would've known, instantly, if you were a telepath."

"You did. Or, at least, you sensed something, didn't you? At first? Something I was hiding? Maybe you convinced yourself that I couldn't be just like you, but ... I had to repress my abilities from a young age. Deeply. If my parents found out, they would freak. It would change public perception of the monarchy, the government. If the public knew there were rogues inside? I'm already the 'odd child,' if you will. The artist. The outsider. The only thing that keeps me in the family is blood. I don't know how to survive on my own. I've been too afraid to trust others with this." He sat up, nervously. "I had to keep it a secret. Even from you. Just in case you were using me, and ... like in a bad way, like others have in the past ... " He shifted about, awkwardly. "But I like it when you use me. I don't care if you know."

"God ... " Akira laid back down, trying to make sense of this. She was stunned. "Then why don't ... I mean, look, if you have the ability to manipulate others? Why not go after your family? Persuade them? Solve the problem from within."

"I'm too submissive."

"You're telling me ... " She looked at him, up close. "But that sounds like an excuse."

" ... maybe. But maybe I just want to be accepted voluntarily. If I'm accepted by force? Well, my heart would know. It would be such a hollow victory. No genuine love. And, therefore, no truth."

"But a victory is a victory," Akira told him. "That's reality."

"Is it?" he continued. "You were feeling guilty this whole time. Because you fell in love with me, and you thought my love, my acceptance of you, wasn't earned. That it was forced. That's why you told me. Not because you wanted to help your fellow rogues. Although I'm sure that you do. You wanted your desires to be met with honesty."

She began to cry, quietly, nestling into his wing-arms. He pulled her against his body, kissing her cheek. "I'm just ... I'm sorry. I really am," she said. She normally didn't act so weak. But finally opening up like this was incredibly cathartic.

"I'm sorry, too," he replied, nuzzling against her. "I should've told you sooner. In the past, females tried to blackmail me. I had to brainwash them. Make them forget. It really soured me. But I knew, right away, that there was something about you. You were so different and seductive. That first time we made love? It was the best feeling of my life. Until the next time and the time after that ... and I knew you were like me. I was so thrilled." He cleared his throat. "I don't want to lose you, now."

"You won't," she promised. "But, Aldridge, I've been a rogue for years. I have a loyalty to the others. I mean, I can't not act. We have to deal with this .... I mean, the way the government treats our kind. We deserve to be treated with respect."

"I know." A regretful sigh. "Leave it for morning, though," he pleaded. "We'll think of something. Something diplomatic and peaceful. Instead of using our powers to coerce, maybe we can use them to quietly convince. There's a different, you know. You have to have a little faith in furs ... " He was realizing that, now. Sometimes, it was worth the risk. Or at least you hoped it was.

She nodded, quietly. Taking deep, audible breaths. "I'm still not tired," she eventually confessed.

"Then maybe we don't sleep ... "

"Well, if we can't talk about our situation, and we can't sleep, what are we going to do in the middle of the night?" It was a rhetoric question. She very much had an idea in her mind.

He caught on, instantly. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find something ... " He trailed off as his long tongue slithered out of his maw. And smoothly into hers, licking the insides of her cheeks. Tangling, wrestling with her own before pulling back and leaving everything to the lips. The kiss was deeper than the night. It was sublime. And when it broke, he rolled onto his back. And opened his eyes wide. "I still want you to be my mate."

She nodded. "I know. We'll talk about that in the morning, too."

"You promise?"

"Mm-hmm."

He smiled at her, boyishly. "The way I'm feeling right now, I suggest you 'tame' me before you start riding. I don't wanna accidentally buck you off."

"Horny, submissive beast. Thanks for the warning," she breathed, passionately. "I'm going to make you be on top eventually, though. You'll enjoy it. Variety is the spice of life."

"If you'll let me paint you nude ... "

"Still obsessed with that, I see?"

"Well, your body is a work of art," he opined.

"Do you regularly have sex with art?" she teased, before asking, in regards to his 'taming', "Are you sure you want me to keep hypnotizing you? I mean, do you remember it afterwards?"

"Yes. I do. All of it ... "

"Then I guess you really are telepathic." A wink.

"Think I was lying?" he asked, with a shy smile.

"No. You're too sweet. Now me, on the other paw ... "

" ... what are we going to do about that? About this compulsion to hide things? I guess we're both guilty," Aldridge said.

"Maybe we'll just have to keep rubbing off on each other. Maybe that's the key to any relationship, and the key to forging any peace: compromise. I'm certainly willing to give it a try." She smiled. Nay, grinned, toothily, as she climbed atop him, straddling his hips again. Feeling powerful. Feeling wanted. For who she was and who she desired to be. She was in love. She spread her wing-arms. This was what flying felt like.