by Reagan Woods
Mouth tightening into a grim line, he responded, “Yes, I am aware of the situation. Stay in our quarters. Soryan, the Chief Security Officer, has dispatched Warriors to investigate.”
“Okay.” She nodded, feeling sick to her stomach. One of these huge alien males could really damage someone. She hoped security wouldn’t be too long.
“Willa,” Commander Tiron interrupted her thoughts. “Everything will be okay.”
“I know,” Willa replied doubtfully. She really wanted to believe him, but those thuds had been loud.
“I’m not saying we’re perfect,” he began. “But Warriors value females. I would be surprised if the violent party is the male.”
Willa still felt skeptical, she’d seen plenty of male-on-female violence when the surviving soldiers from Earth had struggled to re-join society. World War III had ended quickly, with the troops deserting their posts under the cover of night. Nothing was as they’d left it, and many, not knowing how to deal with the radical changes, had snapped.
“Have you had a chance to decide if there’s something I can bring back this evening?” He redirected the conversation smoothly, seeming to understand that she wouldn’t be satisfied until someone addressed the conflict.
“Yes, I’d like to try to make narra,” she answered, relieved when she heard the sounds of security arriving in the hall.
“That’s easy enough,” he smiled. “I have hand-to-hand tonight, but I can drop the steaks off before I go.”
“No, I’ll wait for you, if it’s all the same.”
The Commander gave a satisfied nod, “Alright. See you later.”
Willa stared at the blank screen, listening intently for any indication of continued violence. Not a sound came from the other cabin. She hoped that was a good thing.
Chapter Ten
One Week Later
Willa heard the door slide open. Immediately, she detected the unique cinnamon-y scent that was distinctly Tiron.
“You’re home early.” Willa smiled a greeting over her shoulder and climbed off of the hologym.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” he murmured.
“I was finished anyway,” she said, fanning her face. Today’s workout had been tough, but she felt good.
“A supply ship from the Doranos Galaxy docked with us today,” he said, arms crossed behind his back as usual.
“Did they bring anything interesting?” She mopped her face with the hem of her shirt, then paused, unable to resist a peek up at his masculine form. Tiron filled out his uniform like every woman’s dream. Wide shoulders, well-developed pecs, thick arms; he was the epitome of a sleek, powerful male.
He didn’t answer her question. His eyes had stopped their perusal of her sweat-drenched form, transfixed on the patch of skin she’d inadvertently exposed. Heat flared in his golden eyes and he drew in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.
Was he smelling her?
Her nipples hardened and the tempo of her heartbeat increased.
Woah, Nelly.
Willa hastily released her shirttail, shaking herself out of the moment. “Tiron?”
Silently, he held out a small box to her. “It’s called nirkin,” he finally said. “It’s quite delicious and I’m told you have nothing like it on Earth. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
She accepted the smooth cooling box from him. “Thank you! I’ll go check the data base for a suitable preparation.”
Willa beat a hasty retreat to the food prep area. She needed the distraction of doing something with her hands. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her body from responding to Tiron lately. His masculine scent, the sound of his deep voice; anything might elicit an uncomfortable reaction.
“Get it together, girl, before you make a fool out of yourself,” she muttered, bringing up the tutorials for nirkin.
“Did you say something?” He called.
Blowing the damp curls from her forehead, she shouted back, “Just talking to myself!”
∞ ∞ ∞
“Beandra is impatient to begin bonded life.” Liania appeared smug, her disembodied head floating on the hover screen Tiron used for personal communications.
“I haven’t com’d to accept her ridiculous proposal, Mother.”
“You’re turning her down, then?” Disapproval colored her words.
“Yes, General Darvan has opened Earth up to warrior claims. I’ve applied for the Right to Claim an Earth female,” he said, keeping his voice low.
He didn’t want Willa to hear this conversation so he’d waited until he heard the soni-shower booth close before contacting his mother.
“Tiron, no,” Liania cried, cheeks reddening. “What if you actually impregnate the inferior Earther? Good Lord, think of the poor child.”
“Giaon is next in line, Mother, you and father need to recognize him as your heir,” he chastised in a vehement whisper. “Enough with this nonsense.” The idea of Willa ever carrying his child was fanciful. A significant shift in their relationship would have to occur. But, if such an unlikely event happened, he would be overjoyed. Not horrified.
“Do not do this thing, my son,” she pleaded, voice harsh.
“It is already done.”
“What?” Her mouth hung agape for several seconds before she snapped out, “Then undo it. Right this instant!”
“I will not.”
“Then, you better hope the Council votes the Earthers into the Alliance because I will not agree to your abdication,” she returned implacably.
Tiron suppressed a shudder. He hoped the High Council never voted Earth into the CGA. As long as he kept Willa out of danger, she was, in many respects, sacrosanct. However, if the Earthers achieved Tribe status, his Claim wouldn’t stand. Corian laws regarding females were complex, and, ultimately, designed to encourage reproduction.
Willa couldn’t stay under his Protection as an unmated female of a CGA Tribe. They would have to either bond or he would have to give her up. If he tried to have their mating formalized, there was a real risk that he would lose her in a Bonding Challenge. Or, more likely, when she left his Protection, whoever had the Right of First Refusal to her would invoke it.
“You’re delaying the inevitable.”
“You will come home and we will have this bonding ceremony,” she commanded, losing her cool.
“I’ll come home when I’m so inclined. The terms of the contract do not suit me.”
“I’m disconnecting. You obviously can’t be reasonable right now.”
“Fine,” Tiron agreed calmly.
“Fine.” The screen went blank.
“I see you’re winning friends this evening.” Willa strode into the room wearing just his oversized shirt and the ever-present brace. He hadn’t seen her use the canes lately and surmised that she was getting more confident in her abilities. He wished he had the words to tell her how special she was.
Willa needed another set of clothes but he kept ‘forgetting’ to requisition them. Tiron liked the way she looked wearing his shirt. For that matter, he liked the way she looked in his quarters and sleeping in his bed.
“It was nothing.” He dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand before clasping his fists behind his back, hiding his scars. “Are you ready for last meal?”
Every cycle, he rushed back from his post-work physical training to see her sweet face, to experience her enthusiastic awe for the things she’d learned that day. After last meal, he’d retreat, doing everything he could to keep his distance from her, while still craving her presence.
Her luscious body and intelligent mind drew him in. But his confidence fled around her. A beautiful female like Willa could never return his interest. He was too broken.
“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Propping a hand on one nicely rounded hip, she gave him a long look through sparkling greenish-brown eyes. Hazel, she’d called the ever-changing color. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, I guess I can’t make you.” She sniffed disapprovingly and stalked to the
agitator, little nose in the air.
Following at a distance, he kept his hands firmly behind his back so he wouldn’t reach for her. He didn’t want her to feel compelled to respond to a misguided overture any more than he wanted to risk her rejection. But adoring his little Earther from afar was becoming a challenge.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Who was that?” Willa couldn’t resist digging.
The female on the com screen had been beautiful. Not just pretty, but traffic-stopping gorgeous. Walking into the room when the stunner had insisted Tiron go home for a bonding ceremony had brought Willa up short.
Was the Commander engaged?
Willa sat the nirkin fillets, carefully on their, no his, little dining table and stepped away, nails biting into her palms. She didn’t know why she was angry. It was a good thing that the Commander had a female, one of his own kind, who wanted to be with him.
That just proved attraction she felt was one-sided, probably all in her head. After all, hadn’t she been a teensy bit worried over the past few weeks that there was something building between them? Something that caused her low belly to burn and clench whenever she thought of him?
And, really, she’d only caught the end of his conversation with the female. All Willa knew for sure was that she didn’t like the way the Corian had looked at him or spoken to him.
“I’d rather not discuss it.” He took his place at the table, inhaling the succulent aroma appreciatively. “This looks amazing.”
I’d rather not discuss it? The words conjured up nightmare visions of her potential future with the Commander. One day, he’d take a bond-mate, the Corian version of a wife, without discussing it, and an unsuspecting Willa would be stuck with the two of them. She could see it now, she’d be like an intergalactic Cinderella, relegated to serving some haughty Corian female. Or worse, given away like an unwanted pet.
So what if it was Willa who got up early every morning to prepare his first meal just so, who took the time to learn to prepare his favorite foods each evening, who the rat bastard held in his arms every night? Who cared? Not her.
“Are you not eating?” he asked, concern evident.
“I’m not hungry.” She stalked to the sitting room and pulled herself up on one of the giant, ugly chairs, too worked up to think rationally. She could all but feel steam shooting from her ears. Resting her forehead in her hands, she stared at her bare knees. What was wrong with her?
“Are you ill?”
Willa glared up. He was looming over her, one hand outstretched, as if to touch her.
He was too close. She could feel the heat from his body and smell his distinctive, delicious scent. Dammit, he needed to back off and quit being so…so…irresistible.
“I’m fine.” She ran her hands through her curls, mussing them. She must seem like a crazy person, she realized. Hell, she felt a little nutty and that rattled her. “I’m fine,” she repeated firmly. “Just a little headachy.”
Cautiously, he drew back, wariness replacing the concern in his golden eyes. “Shall I send for a medic?”
“No, I’m sure it’s nothing. I think I’ll go lay down.” She started to slide off the chair, holding her braced leg out awkwardly, forcing him to back away – at least, that was the plan.
“Here, let me.” He scooped her up gently in his strong arms.
Held securely against Tiron’s solid chest, she inhaled his spicy musk. Her body snuggled closer of its own volition, molding her soft curves against his hard muscle. She had an overwhelming urge to run her hands under his uniform and feel that massive expanse of rippled flesh, tracing the dents and grooves. What the…?
“I think I can manage from here.” She tried without success to squirm out of his grip.
“You’re being ridiculous.” He ignored her protest, striding quickly into the sleeping room.
He deposited her carefully on the sleeping platform, tucking the covers under her chin.
“If you have need of anything, call out.” He laid a hand on her forehead, checking her temperature, she was certain.
“I think I just over did it on the hologym.” She shied away from his touch, alarmed at how much she liked the feel of his big, warm hand against her skin.
The Commander’s face hardened at her unintentional rejection of his concern. She would apologize tomorrow, she promised herself. Right now, he needed to go so she could get a grip.
Chapter Eleven
Days later, Tiron continued to feel like a fool. As often as he’d told himself that Willa could never find him attractive, her outright rejection of his touch had still surprised him. She’d stumbled, red-faced through a halting apology the next morning, but he’d seen the truth in her refusal to meet his eyes. He disgusted her.
The anticipation of seeing her each evening had given way to late-night strategy sessions. General Darvan was fighting on two different fronts. He sought to prepare his fleet for the certainty of battle against the Ventix, a rival alliance claiming prior rights to the Milky Way Galaxy. The Emperor of Ventix space, Hash-Han, arrogantly claimed his fierce Novink Warlords would drive the CORANOS from the blue planet. The CGA outclassed the Ventix, but the General wasn’t taking victory for granted.
At the same time, General Darvan was defending his warriors’ claim to the females from Earth. The High Council needed the warriors to fight, protecting the CGA’s interests, but they weren’t too keen on upholding their end of that contract. Namely, they wanted the General to compel his warriors to release the females they’d promised to protect. Tiron hoped his own family hadn’t used their political influence to sway the Council.
The warriors aboard the Trident were seeing their share of Earther issues. Tiron fielded complaints from concerned Protectors, or warriors who’d claimed females, as well as from worried, or in some cases jealous, ship-mates continuously.
Many of the Earth females in residence were behaving strangely. Some were being overly-friendly, delighting their Protectors, but causing concern by the complete about-face in their demeanors. Others became hysterical in the presence of their Protectors and any other warrior or medical personnel who tried to intervene.
In short, Tiron had much to occupy his time. Why he insisted on punishing himself with thoughts of his sensual little Earther was beyond him. Of course, cradling her in his scarred arms every night wasn’t helping his mental situation. But he couldn’t resist holding her close when she wasn’t awake to despise him. She cuddled against him like a domestic vril in her sleep.
That was why he sat here, in the middle of the night, trying to come up with an activity that would occupy him. He wasn’t tired enough to sleep, and didn’t think he could withstand the mental contortions that having her so close physically yet so far out of reach caused him.
∞ ∞ ∞
Willa tossed the covers from her fevered body. She felt restless and on-edge, a disturbingly regular occurrence. Every moment outside of the reconditioner, she thought of the Commander. Visions of his rugged face and muscular body occupied an inordinate amount of her time, making focusing on anything else impossible.
He’d began coming in later each evening. Most nights, she’d leave his last meal in the agitator and go to bed early enough to avoid him altogether, helping her keep herself under control. That plan had been working fabulously - until tonight.
Willa didn’t know what time it was, but she was awake. Wide awake. Her body was on fire, and she missed the Commander. She’d never felt this way before, longing to be near him, wanting to climb his hard body like a tree. This new aching need was driving her wild.
What if she told him how she felt? Well, maybe not the tree-climbing part. That was a little much. Perhaps he’d think she was crazy, they were very different. She was human and he a Corian. But what if he felt the same way? He was so thoughtful and considerate. That had to mean something. Wouldn’t it be better to know?
If they could find a way to move past friendship, maybe they could forge something lasting. He co
uld be gruff, but he was so wonderful with her. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Willa strode out of the sleeping room before she lost her nerve. She’d tell him and be done with it. Simple, right?
“Willa? What’s wrong?”
The Commander’s deep voice raised goose flesh on her bare legs, and set her heart to pounding out a staccato rhythm. Maybe this wouldn’t be as simple as she’d hoped. Her progress into the dimly lit room ground to a halt as her resolve faltered.
He rose quickly to his feet, taking a step toward her before coming up short. His eyes seemed to drink her in from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, making her acutely aware of the scanty covering her borrowed night shirt offered.
She stared unabashedly back, feeling the sensual pull he effortlessly exerted over her. He looked deliciously rumpled, his dark hair mussed where he’d run his fingers through it, soft black shirt pushed up on his scarred, muscular forearms. She’d never noticed his beard before but now the dark stubble lent him an attractive, rakish quality. He looked dangerous…and sexy.
“Um, yes. I’m fine. I -,” her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, staring stupidly at him. He made her feel clumsy and shy, but Willa wasn’t a quitter. She’d come this far, hadn’t she?
“You?” he prowled closer, footsteps silent on the soft beige floor. Even his large, bare feet were sexy. What was wrong with her? Sexy? Feet? But there it was, the yummy alien Commander had the sexiest feet she’d ever seen.
“I – I wa-wa-wanted to talk to you,” she stammered out, senses inundated by his amazing scent as he came to a stop in front of her.
“What did you want to talk about?” he drew her hands from where she’d instinctively braced against his diamond-cut abs, and held them, pressed together between his hot, callused palms.
His delicious, masculine aroma was making her brain cells suicidal little drunks. She could feel her IQ points plummeting as they began hopping out her ears like base-jumpers without back-up chutes, taking all hope of subtlety with them.
