Rykaur: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 8)
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It took a moment for him to realize she’d gone still and that her legs now hung limply at his sides.
Slipping his fangs gently from her neck, Rykaur dropped his head to her shoulder. He couldn’t seem to let her go. “Are you hurt?”
She didn’t answer, only shook her head.
Her sweet, wet heat still rested against his throbbing erection. He wanted to rip her clothes off and bury his aching shaft deep inside her body.
Mary’s anxiety suddenly washed over him, overwhelming him in its intensity. She fears me?
“I don’t fear you.”
Rykaur suddenly realized she’d read his thought and answered him without speaking.
He carefully lowered her to the floor and backed up enough to peer into her stunned gray eyes.
“Wh-what was that?” she nervously blurted.
Rykaur answered with a thought. “We are communicating with our minds.”
Mary’s eyes grew huge and her face paled. “It’s not possible,” she spoke aloud.
“Yet you know it to be true.”
Slipping out from the enclosure he had her in, Mary circled around to the foot of the bed. “But how?”
Rykaur turned to face her. “Your blood now courses through my veins.”
He intentionally left out the part where she was now bonded to him. And frankly, he didn’t understand why he’d taken her blood either. He told himself that he’d done it for his people, to get the answers from Mary that he sought. But that wasn’t entirely the truth and he knew it.
“I can hear your thoughts because you drank my blood?”
Rykaur took an unsteady breath. “I did not drink from you. Your blood flows through my veins, Mary. Not my stomach. But to answer your question? Yes. Your blood has opened a door between us that can never be closed.”
Her face grew even more pale. “Never?”
Shaking his head, Rykaur trailed to the end of the bed and rested his hands on her shoulders. “It is not as…” His voice trailed off as more of her emotions swirled inside him, fairly choking him. “Mary?”
She tried to pull back, panic replacing her fear. But Rykaur only held on tighter.
His hands slid up to cup the sides of her face.
Images of a child began flashing through his mind in distorted colors, only to clear up the longer he held Mary’s face.
The child was her, he realized, watching as she sat alone in a room, hungry and afraid.
The images shifted to a man holding a belt, his voice raised in anger.
Rykaur stood frozen, unable to breathe as he watched the man take the belt to a young Mary’s back.
The scene changed again, this time to darkness. He could hear the thundering of a heart, but no images could be seen.
Light abruptly spilled in to reveal a little girl, hovering in a small space, blinking up in terror as a dark-haired woman stood above her.
On and on, the nightmare went until Rykaur thought his heart would explode from the pain.
The scene changed once more to a teenage Mary, hovering over four small, terrified children. She’s protecting them, Rykaur realized, lowering his head until his forehead lay against hers.
A moan slipped past his lips as Jefferies’s face flashed before him, manic and obsessed.
The fear that Jefferies evoked in Mary was tangible. Rykaur felt more than heard the threats, the promise of horrific things to come.
Mary’s beautiful face floated before him as she lay in a bloodied heap on the floor of a house Rykaur had seen before. Jefferies stood over her, sneering, laughing in the face of her pain.
Rykaur saw the tent he’d lived in at the Marines’ camp. Saw Mary taking his small bag of jewels. She knelt over him and undressed him. She hadn’t given herself to him as she’d led him to believe.
“No…” he groaned, Mary’s torment seeping inside him as Maulkryth lashed her tender flesh again and again.
Jerking his hands free of her face, Rykaur staggered back, the wetness of his tears lining his lashes. “Mary…”
“Now you know,” she whispered, tears sparkling in her own eyes. “You can’t tell the others, Rykaur. They will rush in there and get the children killed.”
Rykaur spoke around the lump in his throat. “Jefferies has the children that I saw you protecting?”
“Yes.”
“Where are their parents?”
Mary snatched up her shoes from the floor and slipped them on. “I don’t even know who their parents were. But our foster parents died from Incola. Thank God.”
Rykaur couldn’t agree more, if they were the ones he’d witnessed through their connection, abusing Mary. “You are the children’s caretaker?”
“I’m all they have. They’re my family, now.”
Running a hand down his face, Rykaur snagged the rubber band from his wrist and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. “Very well. If we are to safely retrieve the children from Jefferies’s possession, we will need help.”
He held up a hand when Mary would have interrupted. “We are warriors, Mary. The Bracadytes have been trained to handle these types of situations. We will not allow the children to be harmed.”
“This is not an ordinary situation, Rykaur. Jefferies is the most cunning and dangerous man I’ve ever witnessed. He has spies everywhere. Probably even down here.”
Rykaur narrowed his eyes. “We are more than familiar with Jefferies. This will not be the first time we have gone to battle with him.”
“Yet he’s still alive,” Mary pointed out. “I’m beginning to wonder if he even can be killed.”
A protective feeling overtook Rykaur. He understood that a bond had been formed between them from her blood, but she’d been taking up far too much of his thoughts even before he’d sunk his fangs into her.
“I will not allow Jefferies to harm you or the children ever again, Mary. You have my word.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mary stood at the foot of the bed, watching Rykaur in awe.
The feel of him being inside her head had been the single most incredible sensation she’d ever felt, apart from being in his arms.
She wanted to be back there again, she thought with more than a little guilt. How could she entertain such ideas when the children were still in Jefferies’s clutches?
Rykaur stilled. “Mary…”
“Stay out of my head,” she demanded, heat rushing to her face. “What are we going to do about Jefferies?”
Running a hand down his face, Rykaur stepped around her and headed toward the exit. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” She hurried to catch up to him.
Rykaur stopped in the hall and waited for her to catch up before taking her hand and continuing on. “To see Zaureth.”
“But isn’t he the healer?”
The corner of Rykaur’s mouth lifted. “Zaureth is many things, Mary. A healer is but a part of who he is.”
Mary suddenly dug in her heels at the sight of a furious Gryke storming toward them.
“Why is she not in the dungeon?” Gryke snapped, forcing them to a stop.
Rykaur nudged her behind him, spreading his booted feet in a protective stance. “There is much you do not know, Gryke. We are going to see Zaureth. Follow me and I will explain on the way.”
Mary could fairly feel the aggression coming from the other male.
The two giant Bracadytes faced off for several heartbeats before Gryke finally spouted, “You have but minutes to convince me of that your intentions are worth her being free.”
“Do not threaten me,” Rykaur bit out, his body taut with tension. “Either come with me or get out of my way. We are wasting time.”
Gryke stepped aside, albeit reluctantly.
Mary gasped as Rykaur abruptly spun around, gripped her around the waste, and scooped her up into his arms. “Do not speak.”
The gentle yet firm command entered her mind with a jolt. Mary wondered if all Bracadytes had the ability to convey thoughts wit
h others, or if Rykaur was an anomaly.
“We all are born with the capability,” came his mental reply. “Even you.”
Somehow, Mary doubted that, but she decided to keep the thought to herself.
“Do not doubt me.”
Or, maybe not, she inwardly sighed.
Mary stared straight ahead to avoid meeting Gryke’s aggressive gaze. She somehow knew he was watching her. She could feel his penetrating stare burning a hole through the side of her head.
“Zaureth?” Rykaur called out, stopping at the steps to the catacombs.
The massive healer stepped into view. “You may enter.”
Rykaur took the few steps that would take him into Zaureth’s home and then set Mary on her feet. Gryke stopped directly on her left.
“How are you feeling?” Zaureth directed his question to Mary.
He has the kindest eyes, Mary thought, peering up into their pale green depths. “Much better, thanks to you.”
“I am glad to hear it.” The healer then shifted his attention back to Rykaur. “What can I do for you?”
Mary stood quietly next to Rykaur as he filled Zaureth and Gryke in on everything that had taken place since Mary’s arrival in Aukrabah. He’d left out the part about her drugging him and taking his jewels. And Mary couldn’t be more relieved. She would hate like hell for the healer to see her as a thief.
Not that Zaureth’s opinion should matter one way or the other. But it did. He was a healer, which in Mary’s eyes was reminiscent of a holy man.
“Is Jefferies responsible for the scars?” Zaureth asked, returning his gaze to Mary.
Mary’s stomach clenched in mortification. She didn’t want to confess her sordid past to this holy man. He would surely think her broken and pitiful.
She lifted her chin, ignoring his question. “He has the children. And if I’m not back in two days’ time, he has promised to kill them. I can’t let that happen.”
“I will not allow that to happen,” Rykaur assured her, pulling her close to his side before once more addressing Zaureth. “I have a plan.”
Zaureth nodded for him to continue.
With his fingertips stroking Mary’s arm, Rykaur explained to the room, his plan of taking down Jefferies. “Jefferies gave Mary three days to execute his plan of eliminating us. He will not remain in the same place while she is in Aukrabah, for fear that she will have enlisted our help.”
Pausing, he took a deep breath. “There will be spies surrounding the entrance to Aukrabah. Spies that will carry the information back to him the second we surface.
“On the third day, we send out a decoy. Once it has been reported that Mary has exited Aukrabah, alone, Jefferies will dispatch someone to retrieve her.”
“No!” Mary cried, pulling free of Rykaur’s hold. “If I wait three days to return, he might grow impatient and hurt the children. And how can you be so sure that he won’t be there?” But she knew Rykaur spoke the truth. She only hated that she hadn’t anticipated that Jefferies would move the children. She would have done something. Anything.
“You could not have guessed what he would do,” Rykaur pointed out, reading her thoughts. “You were under far too much pressure—”
“You mated with her,” Gryke interrupted, cutting off the rest of Rykaur’s words. “When did this happen?”
Confused, Mary glanced from one to the other. “Mated?”
The glare Rykaur sent Gryke couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than anger. “It is not your business who I bond with.”
“Mate,” Mary asked a second time. “Bonded? What the hell are you talking about?”
Zaureth held up a hand. Though he spoke to the room at large, his gaze remained on Gryke. “I believe that it is Rykaur’s responsibility to discuss the details of a bonding or mating with Mary, not ours. Now, once a plan has been decided upon, the two of them can return to his apartment to talk it over. Until then, let us decide what we are to do about the land walker Jefferies.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rykaur paced the kitchen, waiting on Mary to finish her meal. She’d butted heads with him on his plan to move in on Jefferies on the third day. But she was thinking with her heart and not her head.
Mary looked up from her plate of red snapper on a bed of rice. “Would you please sit down? You’re making me dizzy.”
“I am sorry.” Rykaur sat across from her, noticing she hadn’t eaten most of her food. “Is the meal not to your liking?”
She took a small bite. “It’s delicious. I’m just not that hungry. I can’t get Hank’s scared eyes out of my mind. He tried to appear strong and brave, but it was a front. It was always a front.”
Rykaur shifted in his seat. “Do you speak of the boy…or yourself?”
Mary glanced down at her plate. “I’m talking about Hank, of course. He’s only thirteen years old. That’s far too young to have such an enormous responsibility.”
Rykaur wanted to point out that Mary had been far younger than that when she’d began enduring the beatings and abuse from her foster parents. But he refrained. She would only see it as pity and withdraw from him.
“Are you sure this plan will work, Rykaur? What if he anticipates this move?”
“That is a chance we have to take,” he returned, reaching across the table to tuck a finger beneath her chin.
He gently lifted. “I cannot guarantee the safety of the children, Mary. No one can. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to prevent them from being hurt. Everything.”
Her gaze softened. “I’m so sorry about involving you in all this. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, what I might have done had you not discovered that vial.”
And he believed her. “I do not hold you responsible for Jefferies’s actions. And I also do not think you would have followed through with his plan.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, but didn’t spill over. “I would do anything to save those kids, Rykaur. Even if it meant trading another life for theirs.”
Respect blossomed inside him and something else he didn’t want to acknowledge. “The fact that you would kill for them speaks greatly of your love for them. A love such as that is very rare, Mary. They are fortunate to have you.”
“The longer we stay down here, the less likely they will ever see me again. It’s killing me to sit here doing nothing while they are in Jefferies’s clutches.”
Rykaur pushed to his feet. “I need you to trust me in this. I know what I am doing.”
Mary stood as well. “Even if a decoy could be sent out in two days, Jefferies is smart enough to have spies at the entrance to see if you emerge. They have phones and radios.”
“We will not leave by way of land, Mary. We will emerge from the water.”
He saw the moment understanding dawned. “I didn’t think of that. But he will also expect that, won’t he? I’m sure he’ll have armed guards around him. Maybe even explosives rigged around the area he’s in.”
“Perhaps,” Rykaur conceded, “but we have something that no number of human weapons can compete with.”
Mary blinked. “What’s that?”
“Zaureth.”
“The healer?” Mary returned, a look of disbelief on her beautiful face.
Rykaur stepped around the table and took hold of her hand. “Zaureth is much more than a healer. He possesses certain gifts that even I cannot comprehend.”
Taking hold of her other hand, Rykaur led her to the doorway. “Come. We must go to the great hall for my celebration of life.”
Mary peered up at him in confusion, trailing alongside him to the hallway. “Celebration of life? Isn’t that something one does when a loved one passes away?”
It was Rykaur’s turn to blink. “The humans have very strange customs. I am thirty years old as of today. The Bracadytes celebrate their birth every ten years. I do not understand why one would celebrate a death.”
Mary shrugged. “Since you put it that way, I suppose it does sound kind of strange. We
celebrate the life the deceased person lived instead of holding a funeral and grieving their loss.”
“Yet you still mourn,” Rykaur pointed out. “It sounds to me like an act. The land walkers have strange notions about life and death. They also drain the corpse of its life force and refrigerate it until it is ready to be buried. I do not know about you, Mary, but that threatens my appetite.”
A laugh burst from her that startled him. He glanced down into her smiling face, and his heart stuttered. He’d thought Mary beautiful from the first time she’d sashayed into his camp, but a smiling Mary was breathtaking.
He found himself grinning as well. “What do you find so amusing?”
“You.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “The way you speak, the practical way you have of looking at life. As big and ferocious as you are, you have a certain innocence about you that is cute.”
Rykaur’s steps faltered. She thought him cute?
He wanted to stop, back her against the wall, and cover her sexy mouth with his own.
“It’s about time you got here,” Fiona called out from her position next to the ATV’s. “I was just about to come looking for you.” Her gaze sliced to Mary. “Do you think it was wise to bring her? Klause won’t like it.”
Anger quickly surfaced. Rykaur stopped in front of Gryke’s mate. “Our king does not know that Mary is here. He certainly does not know of the circumstances for her visit.”
“He does now,” Fiona shot back.
Rykaur’s muscles grew taut with fury. “Gryke—”
“Did not go to the king,” Fiona interrupted. “Maulkryth did. I’ll admit that Gryke was angry about the prisoner being free, but after thinking it over, he realizes that she’s not at fault here. Maulkryth, on the other hand, is obviously not on board with your decision to set her free.”
Rykaur relaxed his stance. Barely. “The female’s name is Mary. And she is no longer a prisoner. Her actions were not her own, and she cannot be to blame for them. Jefferies holds hostage the children Mary seeks to protect. You of all people should understand her motives, Fiona.”
Fiona flinched, her softening gaze shifting back to Mary. She extended her hand. “I apologize for my rude behavior, Mary. I need to learn a little humility, it seems. Rykaur’s right. If anyone understands what you’re going through right now, it’s me. Jefferies blackmailed me at one time, holding my son and my brother as insurance. If not for Gryke and the other Bracadytes, my little boy and brother wouldn’t be alive today.”