Rescued

by Presley Hall

  I’m shocked. I stare at him for a moment, unable to make my mouth form words. That wasn’t what I expected at all. A small part of me is relieved at the offer—after all, he would put a significant physical barrier between us and anyone or anything that wants to harm us. And I’m almost grateful that he would offer. He certainly doesn’t have any obligation to either one of us.

  But still, I’m not about to trust a strange alien man. Especially not one who makes me want to behave in ways that I know aren’t safe for me.

  “Thank you, but no,” I say, giving a firm shake of my head. “We’ll be fine on our own.”

  He frowns at me, brows pulling together. “What are you going to do?”

  I wonder why he even cares. What does it matter to him where I go? He defended me from being captured in the street when he was passing by, which was gallant of him. But why stick around?

  I don’t know how the Kalixian species ages, but he looks young—maybe even close to my age. Earnest, almost, now that the adrenaline of the fight has passed. It’s almost sweet, what I see in his face.

  But it could also be a trap. A trick. A means to enslave me all over again.

  “I’m going to run.” I swallow, still clinging tightly to Chloe. “Don’t worry, I’ve gotten good at it.”

  He looks at me, and something firm and decisive settles over his face. It makes him look a little older, some of the youth draining away as he sets his jaw.

  “You’ll be safer with me,” he says firmly. As if he’s made up his mind, he gestures for me to follow him. “Come on.”

  “I said no!” I exclaim, my heart beating a little faster as I take a step back from him.

  “And I said you’ll be safer with me. I didn’t…”

  He looks at Chloe and cuts off whatever he was about to say. Then he takes a smooth step toward me, closing the space I just opened up between us and dropping his head as he meets my gaze.

  “I’m not asking,” he says quietly. “Now, I can toss you over my shoulder and carry the child in my arms and take you back that way, or you can follow me. But I’m not letting you run off on your own with a little one. Not when you have who knows how many mercenaries out there looking for you. The Shaga who was tailing you was hired by someone, and although I don’t know who or why, I know that such a threat is not to be taken lightly.”

  You don’t need to tell me that, I think angrily.

  But I can see from the look in his eyes that he means it. He’s not going to let me go, even if he has to take me back to his dwelling by force. And that would terrify Chloe.

  Maybe I’m being stupid to even think of going with him. Maybe the smarter thing would be to try to distract him and make a run for it with Chloe. But something deep inside of me whispers that he isn’t going to hurt me. That he wants to protect me, however bullheaded he’s being about it.

  So I nod. “All right,” I say quietly. “I’ll come with you. For now.”

  He looks stupidly pleased, a wide smile breaking across his face, and I frown at him.

  Why on Earth is he so happy about this?

  7

  Sorsir

  I’m pleased that Autumn agreed to come with me of her own accord—while I certainly would have lived up to my word and tossed her over my shoulder, I didn’t want to frighten the child… and I definitely didn’t want to have to carry it.

  Autumn, on the other hand? That’s another story. I would have very happily carried her anywhere, preferably straight to my living pod. Which is where we end up as I lead her back to the building where the Kalixians and the Terran women are housed for now, although it’s clear the things I imagined when I had her up against the alley wall won’t be happening.

  As I lead her into the small living space that I’ve been assigned while we’re here, it’s all I can do not to think about it. My body is screaming at me to claim her, to make her mine. I’ve wanted her since the moment I laid eyes on her in the bar, but it’s nothing compared to the way I felt in the moment I realized she is my Irisa.

  I’ve never felt such a craving in my entire existence. It’s foreign and exciting and frightening all at once.

  But I try not to let on how aroused I am, because I can tell that she’s terrified—worried for herself and her child, and confused. I can’t burden her with my desire; it won’t benefit either of us. I’d never take an unwilling woman, and the mate bond can’t be sealed without both parties believing and giving in to it. Autumn is in no place to even hear about it, much less accept what the bond has chosen for us.

  And I need to figure out how I feel about it too.

  My entire life, I’ve been loyal to my people, fighting for them alone. But now everything in me is driving me to protect Autumn—and by extension this small child—above everything else. For now, the two needs can exist side by side. But what happens if my loyalty to my people, my purpose of fighting for them, is threatened by my need to protect Autumn? What happens then?

  There’s no point in borrowing trouble, I think grimly to myself as I show Autumn around my dwelling.

  There’s an open space that serves as a living space and kitchen, with a tiny cooking range, a low sofa, and a table with two chairs. The bathroom is hardly large enough to turn around in, although there’s a bathing pool adjacent to it, and I swallow hard as I show Autumn where the bedroom is, a fresh wave of need washing over me as I see her eyes flick to the bed where I sleep. It’s small. Two people wouldn’t be able to lie in it without touching.

  “I’ll sleep in the living area,” I say quietly, noting the nervousness in her face. “You and the child can have the bed.”

  The little girl is already toddling around the small dwelling. She began exploring the moment Autumn set her down, crawling up onto the sofa and back down again. She seems completely fearless, and though I know next to nothing about children, I know that a large part of her fearlessness must be due to how much of the fear and uncertainty of the situation Autumn has taken on, keeping it buried within herself so as not to scare her daughter.

  I look down at Autumn, warmth flooding me as I realize how brave and selfless she is.

  This woman, this strong, determined woman, is my mate.

  I remember hearing once that the mate bond chooses who we need most, the person who compliments us, whose strengths make up for our weaknesses. No one has ever said that I’m not brave, and I’ve given everything in my life for others. But perhaps there’s something else.

  I can be reckless and hotheaded; I know it. And here Autumn stands, facing down the terror of an alien stranger and being hunted by others, and her face is outwardly calm, everything about her demeanor measured as she decides what to do next.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Her soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I have to work hard to remember what we were even talking about. “Chloe and I can take the sofa.”

  Chloe. So that must be the little girl’s name. It’s pretty too, just like her mother’s name is. And although it’s a completely foreign word to me, it seems to suit the child somehow.

  “No,” I tell Autumn firmly. “The bed is more comfortable. The two of you need a good night’s rest.”

  She doesn’t argue, only lets her eyes drift back to the bed, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

  “You can rest here without fear.” I drop my head a little to meet her gaze. “The man who was chasing you won’t be able to trouble you anymore. He’s dead now.”

  I’m careful to keep my voice low so that the child doesn’t hear. Autumn glances back at me, and I can still see fear lurking in her eyes behind the measured calm.

  “Are there others?” I ask her, my voice still quiet. “Is anyone else looking for you? Will whoever sent the Shaga send more?”

  She nods, a slight motion of her head, but doesn’t say anything else.

  I decide to wait to press her for information. She looks exhausted, and as Chloe toddles up to her, she seems grateful for the excuse to stop our conversation.

 
; “I need to get her to bed,” she says softly.

  I can feel how much she doesn’t want to be here as she carries the little girl into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back and tucking her in. I can feel all of the fear just beneath the surface, how terrified she is, and how hard she’s struggling to hold it back. I watch her soothe the child, stroking Chloe’s hair as she whispers softly to her in a singsong voice, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life.

  Armies of enemy aliens on the battlefield, opponents in the gladiator ring, capture and death? I’ve faced all of those things with a smile on my face and laughter on my lips, without so much as flinching. I’ve dared death to come and take me a dozen times over. But never have I felt so out of my depth, so incapable of knowing what to do, as I feel in this moment watching Autumn with her child. I know nothing of love and nothing about children.

  I know something of desire, but nothing like what I feel now. I want to hold this woman in my arms and kiss all of her fears away, clutch her to me and reassure her that she is protected and safe. And at the same time, I want to take her like a beast, to push her up against the wall and rip her clothes away, driving myself into her body until she screams out my name, until I’m able to release all of the desire that’s built up in me like steam in a pot.

  I’ve always been impulsive, making decisions in a snap, and my instincts have been right more often than they’ve been wrong. I’ve relied on bravery and strength to get me by all of my life, getting me out of the scrapes that I get myself into, keeping me and the men I fight alongside alive through everything.

  But I don’t know what to do in the face of this.

  I don’t know how to care for this woman, with her delicate exterior and inner strength, a woman I know hardly anything about and who has no reason to care for me in return.

  Sighing, I turn away from the door before she can catch me watching her, making my way to the couch as my body throbs with unfulfilled desire, aching in a way that I’m helpless to satisfy.

  Krax. It’s going to be a long night.

  8

  Autumn

  Even though I couldn’t accept without putting up some argument, it was kind of Sorsir to offer us the bedroom, and I’m grateful that he insisted.

  I’m especially grateful as I lie down, still in my tunic and pants, with the leather bag within arm’s reach. I’m ready to run if we have to, but I hope with everything in me that it won’t come to that.

  Curling around Chloe’s small form on the bed, I close my eyes and hold her against me. I’m exhausted from the gamut of emotions that I’ve run in just the last few hours, my body aching from exertion and my heart aching from the way our lives have suddenly been upended.

  I’ve known it was coming—that O’Hozo would track me down eventually—but it was easier and easier to put out of my mind as the days turned into weeks, to months, and then to years. Easy to start to feel safe. I let my guard down a fraction, and here we were.

  Sleeping in a strange alien’s pod. In his bed.

  I have to trust Sorsir, at least for now. I know I shouldn’t, but the knowledge that he’s in the living room of the small dwelling, between the front door and us, gives me some comfort as my eyelids grow heavy and I give into sleep. I can’t help but think that he isn’t the worst thing we’re facing right now, that maybe he’s sincere in his desire to protect us.

  But it doesn’t make any sense, and that’s the thing that keeps bringing me up short.

  Why does he care?

  Sometime in the middle of the night, I wake. My bladder is screaming at me, and as much as I don’t want to move from the spot where I fell asleep, I need to use the bathroom.

  I carefully untangle myself from Chloe, trying to get up without waking her.

  The dwelling is completely silent as I rise from the bed, except for Chloe’s even breathing behind me. I tiptoe in the direction Sorsir pointed out earlier, and as I step outside of the bedroom, my heart jumps into my throat.

  Sorsir himself is standing just outside the room I exited, leaning up against the wall like a sentry doing guard duty.

  He’s not wearing a shirt.

  He’s not wearing anything but a loincloth, and it leaves way too little to the imagination.

  I tear my gaze away from his chest, feeling myself flush red hoping like hell that he can’t see it in the darkness. My hair falls in a curtain around my face as I hurry toward the bathroom, unsure whether to feel anxious or reassured that he’s just outside of the bedroom, literally inches from me as I sleep.

  I don’t know him, and I don’t know if I can trust him—but I can’t deny that he’s a strong deterrent to anyone who might want to hurt us.

  My head stays bowed as I emerge from the bathroom, although I can feel the alien’s gaze on me. I want to ignore him, but as I start to go back into the bedroom, I pause.

  I can’t help it. I have questions.

  And if there were ever a time to ask them it’s now, when Chloe is asleep and can’t overhear things that might scare her. My footsteps stop, and I look up at his face in the shadows. The only light in the room comes from the moon filtering through the drapes, and its soft light falls over his bare chest. He looks almost serene standing there, like some kind of bronzed statue from another time. Foreign and exotic.

  To anyone else, it would be exciting.

  He would be exciting.

  Stop lying to yourself, I chastise myself as I look up at his handsome face, the jaw that looks carved from stone, the wide dark eyes and soft, flowing hair. He is exciting to you. That’s at least half the reason you’re afraid of him.

  He looks down at me then, and I feel my skin flush hot. “I recognize you from the bar,” I say softly.

  He nods, glancing away from me. “That was why I was drawn there,” he whispers, almost too quiet for me to hear, as if he’s speaking to himself. “My Irisa was there, and I didn’t even know it.”

  I don’t know what that word means—Irisa—but there’s something in the way he says it that makes my stomach flutter. It’s almost reverent, the way he breathes the word. He says it the way one might say goddess, or queen.

  Or lover.

  The way you speak about something precious to you.

  I lick my lips, which have gone dry in the heat of the room. “Why did you help me?”

  He hesitates for a second, his gaze flicking down to meet mine, and then he pushes himself off of the wall, taking a step closer to me. I jerk backward, but he reaches out, putting his hand on my chest. Not on my breasts—not anywhere inappropriate really, but just below my collarbone, where he can feel the beat of my heart.

  A cold wash of fear flares up in me at the same time that desire does, hot and flickering through my veins. The two powerful emotions war together as I freeze in place, my heart beating so hard that I know he must be able to feel it. Just his touch is enough to light my skin on fire.

  I haven’t been with anyone since I escaped the Orkun. To tell the truth, I’m not sure that I ever want to be. I’m not sure that I ever could, that I’ll ever be able to associate the act of physical intimacy with anything other than fear and helplessness now. I can’t remember what it feels like to be touched with love or desire. With tenderness.

  And I don’t see how I could let anyone close enough to find out.

  All I can do is try to remember how to breathe as I look up at him, frozen in place from the touch of his hand.

  “Do you feel anything?” he whispers, his burning gaze still locked on mine. “Here?” His hand flattens over my chest, and I feel my heart skip in my chest, my breath coming short and fast.

  And as he asks the question, his hand pressed flush against my skin, I do feel something flare to life inside of me.

  I can feel desire unfurling, spreading out through my body, thick and sweet, and I feel myself sway toward him as something deep inside me calls out to him, recognizing the question that he’s asking even though I don’t understand it. I don’t understan
d why I’m here, what he wants, or what’s happening.

  But in this instant, it doesn’t matter.

  For a flash of a moment, nothing matters except for the man in front of me, standing there with his bronzed skin bare to my eyes and his gaze fixed on me, touching me gently as though I might shatter if he presses too hard.

  I want him.

  And for a second, I forget why I shouldn’t.

  9

  Sorsir

  “Do you feel anything?” I whisper, flattening my hand against her chest. I want to slide my hand downward, to cup her small breast beneath the thin linen of the tunic she’s wearing. I can imagine how it would feel in my hand, how soft and yielding her flesh would be, and my pulse leaps in my throat as I force myself not to move. “Here?”

  I can see her thinking, processing the question I’ve asked. I can see that she doesn’t understand it as emotions flash over her face.

  Confusion, fear, sadness… and desire.

  She wants me. She doesn’t yet know why she does, but it’s there, and her soul is answering to mine. Her body too.

  Seconds pass with us frozen like this, motionless and staring at one another, and it feels as if they stretch out into hours as I watch a million thoughts flash over her delicate face. But I can’t move, can’t bear to stop touching her. All I can think is that it might be the only time that I get to.

  And then she reaches out, her fingers shaking as her hand moves toward my chest. She places her hand on me in the same place that mine is on her, her palm flat and cool against my heated flesh. She looks up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and the feeling of her hand against my bare skin sends heat roaring through me, the flames of my lust threatening to consume me as I look down at her.

  My whole body goes tense, every muscle rigid with the effort of holding back my desire, the need to mate with her—to claim her—rising up in me like a tide that threatens to drag us both under. I don’t know how long I can resist, how long I can stand here and not take her in my arms, and a low growl rises up in my throat as my dark eyes fix on her wide blue ones.