ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2)

by Penelope Fletcher

  Watching from a distance, the mightiest human male huffed. He rubbed at his swelling jaw, a glint in his eye. ‘They saved your life, lass. Putting the hurt on them seems unwelcoming.’

  ‘Rude,’ deadpanned the smaller human. His eye was puffy, and his bottom lip bloodied.

  The largest male crossed massive arms. He looked whole, but his sark was torn, a sleeve hanging from its seam by threads. ‘It might be construed as ungrateful of we set them out on their ears as they deserve.’ He scowled.

  Sìne was quiet. Her head reared, eyes rounded. ‘You like them, Patrick?’ She pushed out a palm. ‘It doesn’t matter. Fergie?’

  ‘Where you left her.’ The human leader, Patrick, hooked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘With Da.’

  Hearing they’d begun negotiations to redress his female’s injury, Beowyn and Éorik no longer bristled. They stood with puffed chests and offered respectful chin lifts. The human males jerked their heads in return, the air lightening at this universal male sacrament.

  Eyes pinging between them, Sìne puffed. She staggered through the brush the way she’d come, muttering.

  Patrick waved them closer. A smile stretched his bearded cheeks. ‘We’re going back to eat Aled’s breakfast.’ He pointed to the human male who had yet to stop glowering. ‘You’re welcome to join us. You can tell us about your intentions towards our bonny cousin.’

  An earpiece would have translated Beowyn’s grateful reply, but all the human male heard was the rumbling Verako language that sounded like crashing boulders and avalanching snow. He marched behind his Commander, unable to help his eyes falling to the male’s tight behind.

  He bit back a lusty growl.

  Hearing a rustle in the brush, he turned towards the sound.

  His nose wrinkled at the smell of warm animal, ears twitching to better hear its wet, thudding heart.

  Curious to see the outlandish fauna of this world, he suppressed the predatory aura innate to his kind.

  He extended his palm, noting callouses, and idly wondering if they’d irritate his female’s delicate skin.

  A four-legged beast with large eyes, a narrow snout and magnificent antlers emerged to sniff his fingers. Amidst a plume of steamy breath, a thin tongue licked his claws. It bleated a welcome. He inhaled its exotic scent. Prey. A plant-eater then. He fondly rubbed under its chin. ‘Honour to greet you, friend.’

  Éorik retraced his steps to stroke the short fur covering the creature’s tawny hide. ‘Beautiful.’ White hair haloed by moonlight, his Commander seemed more a god of war accepting tribute than a mortal being appreciating nature.

  Beowyn’s gaze brushed over the male’s gentled expression, sharp features softened by a rare smile.

  ‘Earth is unlike any planet we visited,’ said Éorik, unaware of his King’s painful longing. ‘The L’Odo’s interest here is understandable.’

  The skin surrounding Beowyn’s horns grew tight as his brow ridge lowered. ‘I dread the devastation they would have wreaked had they not failed to recognise Lumen’s splendour. Fortunate favours Earth. She came to the Ra’s attention.’

  Éorik snorted. ‘It is fortunate she mated. The serpents would have done nothing if He, Venomous One had not matured. Their eyes are cast down. Ours seek open sky.’

  Beowyn corralled the beast on, watching its graceful hooves gallop through the frozen woods.

  Éorik was loudly silent as they travelled through the snow, fluffy white flakes churned to show a black underbelly, a path through the trees.

  Cubs could track the humans by the trail they left behind.

  A hitch in stride when they reached the human’s territory betrayed Éorik’s uncertainty. His gaze cut to Beowyn, filled with recrimination and doubt.

  ‘Speak.’ Beowyn flicked water from his flesh. The season was easy on the eye but not so on the fur.

  ‘She has young.’

  Beowyn had smelt the cub throughout his female’s humble abode, a blending of innocence, powdered sugar and mylk. Other than a vague curiosity and excitement to be a father, he was unconcerned about how the development would affect his life.

  The presence of a cub might enhance it. He found himself smug his One had born offspring.

  He wagered she’d laughed at the pain through her pushing.

  She was mighty that way.

  ‘She left without presenting.’ Éorik stopped to stand with his hands behind his back, narrowed eyes taking in the odd dwellings dotting the clearing. ‘She rebuffed your advances.’

  ‘I failed to keep her from harm.’ Did jealousy drive the discussion? The moment of hope passed when he reasoned his Defender’s protective instincts were coming to the fore. The male had been trained to put Beowyn’s needs before all others. ‘She is mine.’ His One. Her response was natural. He had needed to prove he was worthy by finding her, and he had, but the matter of his negligence must be addressed. She had been within her rights to deny consummation. ‘I will show her I can be what she needs, and all will be well.’

  Éorik’s eyes burned. His expression remained as tranquil and untouched as the Yawning Sea that surrounded his isolated atoll back on Vayhalun. ‘Then it will be as you say.’

  Beowyn shook off the fizzle of energy that whisked across his flesh each time his Commander looked at him in that lightning way. ‘Come. Let us greet our new family.’ He crossed the threshold of the den last, shaking off slush and squeezing out water. The humans made no noise as to the destruction of the other home, so they made no mention of it. Best to move on. Moisture dripped down his spine, and he shook himself to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling.

  Heat emanated from a blackened wood stove, atop it, a water kettle. He looked forward to a warm draught to chase the night’s chill.

  Ahead of them, Sìne arched, elbows out, lifting her fiery mane high off her shoulders to ruffle it. During the dark season, the highest peak on Vayhalun was bombarded with strikes of white fire, charging the clouds with dangerous voltage. The curls of her hair crackled with the same frenzied energy.

  Beowyn’s throat bobbed, gaze locking onto her nipples. The nubs pebbled, jutting through her flimsy garment. The sight made his fangs ache, his gut clench.

  A subvocal groan had him glancing to the side.

  Face taut with want, Éorik’s attention had latched onto the swell of her backside, jiggling as she moved. He stood rigid and staring.

  Grunting his surprise, Beowyn struggled through a miasma of conflict and arousal. Should he share an appreciation of the sensual display or express displeasure at the male’s interest? How could he fault Éorik for noticing his female’s powerful allure? Of course, Sìne’s strength would attract a virile male such as his Commander.

  Comfortable in the midst of strangers, the human males navigated the cramped space with the ease of longtime familiarity. The den they inhabited was a twin of the other if a little smaller and better cared for. There was less dust and a fresher air. It was a comfortable nest to pass the cold season.

  Aled and the slender Rowan took up seats on the floor. Claiming one side of a long couch for his own, Patrick pointed at a pair of worn chairs for his foreign guests. They looked akin to thrones, decorated in fabric and brass studs with winged sides, and ornately carved wooden legs.

  Accepting the placement with a grave bow, Beowyn threw his mantle over his shoulder and sat. He kicked out a leg to rest his elbow, hand loosely curled in a fist between his thighs.

  His Defender respectfully declined his seat. He stood behind his King, thick legs spread, hands behind his back in the folds of his cloak.

  Seemingly uncaring of the lust she roused, Sìne finished grooming. She used a tie on her wrist to pull the mass into a messy knot.

  Beowyn raked his gaze over her boxy, shapeless attire. Intrigued by her unassuming air, he grew ever more curious, ever more determined to win her regard. Three rotations prior, he’d caught a glimpse of her through a merchant’s window, engaged in the drudgery of the servant class. Curls sticking out from un
der a battered hat, her hair had gleamed reddish-gold in the stark, artificial light. He’d found himself drawn to the homely creature. This had been shocking. His mission had been to find a human woman that looked sounded, acted, and smelled like Lumen, his best human friend, and almost wife. He’d decided she was his ideal. He found her endlessly fascinating. However, after a fleeting glance at Sìne, he was consumed. He’d returned to the same place time and time again to spy on her from afar, watching. Waiting. Seeing her smile, a curve of the lips that haunted his waking dreams, he had simply chosen. Upon touching her, his titillation deepened, ripened. Along the hunt, his attraction transformed into a knowing, so strong, it felt like a psychical entity writhed beneath his fur. Lumen was creamy brown with dark hair and a quick wit. She was quick to smile. Her aura sparked bright colours, and she warmed you with her mere presence. However, he now realised his attraction to Lumen was a spark against the inferno of his passion for Sìne. His female was mylk pale. She had yet to smile. It was odd because he was hilarious, bringing joy to all solely by existing, but he was used to coaxing smiles from Éorik, and concluded doing the same for Sìne was no hardship. Smiles from them was a reward worth the effort. The best thing about his One? She bore hundreds if not thousands of dark berry-coloured dots on her oval face. A wicked fantasy of her caged in his limbs as he licked them made him grin. He chuckled, deep and low when an audible gulp betrayed her awareness of his desire.

  Wary of the predatory way he watched her, Sìne sat beside Patrick, tucking her petite feet under her bottom. She settled, and her scent came to him. Bearing notes of cold rain and fresh herbs, it was like crisp mountain air. Pure. Invigorating. He wanted to drench himself in it. Would the fragrance of her sex prove as intoxicating? Would its taste enslave him? His member twitched.

  Patrick sat forward, intent. ‘You understand me, aye? Good. Much as I’d like to apologise for the welcome, Sìne is the apple of my eye. She came to me begging help.’ He eyed them. ‘Care to explain what caused her to flee her home in the middle of the night, wee bit in tow?’

  Beowyn exchanged wordless communication with Éorik. He sacrificed his translator, leaning over to place it amongst the debris on the table.

  Fist to his chest, Beowyn gained his feet. ‘Good Greetings, wife-kin. I am King Beowyn ThunderClaw, Great Alpha of all Veraks. But as we join Houses you may call me…hm.’ He rubbed his whiskers. ‘My best friend says it is better to call me Wyn.’ He offered his arm. ‘We are well met.’

  ‘You call her wife?’ Aled’s deep bass was sharp.

  Sìne shifted in her seat. ‘Told you he claimed me.’

  Rowan coughed into his fist, lips turning up.

  With a quick, bewildered look to the side, Patrick stood and clasped his forearm. It was a strong grip. ‘Patrick Grae. Since my old Da lost his commons, I watch over this clan of hooligans.’ Introductions were made. He turned to Éorik. ‘You are?’

  Éorik inclined his head. ‘I am High Commander Éorik of House SnowBlade, Royal Defender.’

  ‘What do we call you?’

  ‘I do not care.’

  Patrick sat. ‘You call us kin. I don’t think Sìne accepts the claim.’

  Did his One not wish to lead the negotiations herself? Beowyn’s forehead creased. ‘Sìne, are you agreeable to your head of House bartering mating terms?’

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Aled spoke first. ‘You should let us. We know what you need.’

  Sìne blinked. Scowled. ‘I know what I need.’

  Ignoring her, Aled shook his finger. ‘Before we begin, know she has us to protect her, you hear? Aye, she’s hard headed, has terrible taste in men, and doesn’t listen, but she deserves the best. We’ll not go easy on you just because you’re outsiders.’

  ‘Liam was one man.’ Sìne dug her fingers into her thigh. ‘One mistake. You can no assume every man I take up with is no good. I can make the right choice.’

  Aled made a sweep with his arm. ‘Oh?’ He jabbed that thick finger towards Beowyn. ‘I can tell what he wants. Don’t think I missed the way you look at them when you think no one’s watching.’

  Had his female been sending lustful stares to his Commander?

  Face colouring an alarming shade of red, Sìne flung her hands into the air. ‘Why am I getting involved? You’ll send them running all on yer own.’ She wriggled her fingers. ‘All of you, do as you please.’ She fell back with a huff.

  Patrick cleared his throat. ‘My cousin is a good woman.’ His voice was firm. ‘She deserves nothing less than a man…male who offers marriage. It’s clear to us, Wyn, you are no of this world.’ For the first time, he seemed off balance. His eyes landed uneasily on their features, their horns. He shook himself. ‘How do we know you'll be good to her?’

  Rearing back, offended, Beowyn stared. His honour had never been so questioned.

  ‘Fear not.’ Éorik, ever the diplomat, allowed his liege time to grope for composure in the wake of such insult. ‘The Great One has many concubines. He is a strong protector, and well versed in bed play.’

  Patrick blinked. ‘Concubines?’

  ‘Bed play,’ said Aled.

  ‘She’ll be his wife. Of course there’ll be bed play.’ Arms around his knees, bouncing, Rowan giggled. ‘This is classic. Where’s my camera?’

  Spine stiff, Patrick made a low, angry noise.

  Sensing the change in atmosphere, puzzled by it, Éorik pressed on. ‘She, Lumen of the Stars, a human formally of Earth, and now of Rök, taught us much of your primitive culture. We are well prepared to meet Sìne’s unique needs. As well as those of the cub.’

  Patrick’s gaze pierced Beowyn. ‘Sounds to me you’ve come to take advantage of my poor, wee, down-on-her-luck cousin.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Sìne buried her face in her hands. ‘You open your mouths, and my value as a woman decreases. How you manage to love me yet insult me at the same time baffles the mind.’

  Nose wrinkling, Rowan hummed. ‘This does sound wishy-washy. Concubines? Plural? It’s worrying, aye.’

  At their increasing protests, Éorik lifted a palm. ‘Be at ease. To our people, Sìne will hold pride of place, far above that of the harem. She will be Great Lady, One with my liege, and yes, his wife. There is no higher standing for a female on Vayhalun.’ He looked between them. ‘What is offered is the greatest honour.’

  ‘Concubines? Harems?’ Colour high, Aled shook his fists. ‘We’ve been here before.’

  Hands falling, Sìne’s eyelids narrowed. ‘Have we?’

  ‘Same difference.’

  ‘I bloody well disagree.’

  ‘Don’t defend them, lassie. Break free of the abusive cycle.’

  ‘I am no defending them. I’m defending me.’

  ‘What you’re doing is not heeding yet another warning. You wait and see. He’s got a look about him. Just like that English bastard Liam.’

  ‘My God, let that go.’

  ‘I was right then, and I’m right now.’ Aled cut a hand through the air. ‘He’ll not be faithful.’

  ‘Faithful?’ Éorik bent forward, the space around his mouth whitened. ‘The Great Alpha of this Dyna has never claimed a One before. His heart is free.’

  Beowyn lifted a finger claw. ‘It must be said, for the sake of truth, I did try to claim a One. Lumen was already mated, and quite what you humans call ‘in love’.’ He smiled broadly, pleased he remembered the term.

  ‘Another woman’s leftovers,’ said Aled. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

  ‘Could you think any less of me? Might I remind you, he followed me here, and jumped off a mountain to save me.’ Glaring, Sìne dared to be contradicted. ‘I doubt he would do the same for her, whoever she is.’

  So of course, Beowyn preened, ready to meet the challenge. ‘This is not true. I rescue females all the time. Why, I saved Lumen of the Stars, my best human friend, from the clutches of her vile mother-kin. It is a fine tale.’

  ‘Will you shut up?’

  Chin lowering,
Beowyn studied her. ‘There is no need to be jealous.’

  ‘I’m no.’

  Éorik’s voice was quiet. ‘Then why so angry?’

  Their eyes met.

  Worried she might take his attention as a signal of interest, Beowyn opened his mouth, but Patrick spoke. ‘Please wait outside while we speak to Sìne.’

  Éorik shifted stance. ‘Nothing you say will offend.’

  ‘I wish to speak to my cousin without you distractions.’

  ‘Distractions?’ Sìne sniffed. ‘That implies I care.’ She crossed her arms under her breasts. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘You cannot mean this.’ Beowyn slowly shook his head. What of their hunt? What of the way her body called to his? ‘I do not understand.’

  Expression twisting, Sìne lowered her eyes.

  ‘Out,’ repeated Patrick.

  Sharing a brief glance, Beowyn nodded, and Éorik headed towards the exit. They left in silent affront, and slammed the door.

  Human females.

  Dah.

  Chapter 4

  Rowan sniggered. ‘You hurt their feelings, bráthair.’

  I sat up straight. I did not like him making fun of them. ‘I’ll hurt your feelings in a minute.’

  ‘Oh, aye? Defensive, are we?’

  Spitting a curse, I shifted onto my knees, ready to lunge over the sofa. I’d identified the perfect outlet for my anger. ‘Haud, Rowan. Or I’ll have to shut your trap for you.’

  ‘Like I can no take you with both hands tied behind my back.’

  Aled guffawed.

  ‘Pack it in the lot of you.’ Patrick held up a hand. ‘Joke time is over. Cousin, you know I have your back?’

  I said, ‘I’m here am I no?’

  ‘If you need protecting, I’m there.’

  Restless hands smoothing the heavy denim stretched around my thighs stilled. ‘This is no news to me, Trick.’

  ‘Good. Listen. Beneath the nonsense, the man’s offer is a good thing. It’s a fresh start for you and the wee bit.’