Stabs scurried across the floor and climbed into her lap. “Oof, you’re getting big,” she said in a quiet voice.”
With Stabs in her lap, she synced up the new comm unit to her identification chip. Within moments, she had verification that the warlord sent the money he promised. Her Fuck You money.
She could go anywhere, not just Earth, but part of her wondered if she should return just to see Nicky in a prison uniform. If he were in the ground, she’d piss on his grave.
That didn’t seem big enough. The Thalia from before going into the stasis chamber would have been satisfied with revenge. Plenty of people never saw justice come for those who wrong them, so why shouldn’t she savor a rare luxury? But if she did that, then what?
Thalia didn’t know.
For the first time, she didn’t have to scramble for the necessities to keep body and soul together. She did not have a boss to please or a job to do. She just had herself, and that felt too big.
She could go back to school. That idea appealed to her. The people who tried to control her had wanted her to be uneducated. Well, they wanted her dumb and ignorant, but what happened was a lack of formal education.
Okay, go to school. For what?
College? Medical school? No, that felt wrong. As much as she liked working for Doc, she wasn’t doctor material. Nursing? That fit better but wasn’t perfect.
And then what?
The mountain on the bed shifted as Havik rolled over. Despite the darkness, she could feel him watching her.
She didn’t want to go.
Havik
“I can hear you thinking.” Havik shifted, pulling back the cover to invite his mate back to bed. He had patiently waited for her return but apparently, she needed prompting. “I do not appreciate the empty spot beside me.”
“Is that so?” The mattress dipped as she climbed back in. She nestled into him, fitting like they slept this way every night.
They should.
Moving without thought, his hands ran the length of her arms. He traced the curve of her hip, the gentle slope where her lower back met her ass and returned up to her shoulders. The juncture where her shoulder met her neck fascinated him. Her slender neck held a deceptive strength, as did her entire body.
“Do you require another pain suppressant?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Nothing sleep won’t fix.”
Carefully, he checked her wounds. They did not appear to be inflamed. He knew Terrans healed slowly, but her wounds upset him. Clever and quick-witted, he hated the idea of her in pain. He wanted her to be completely healed, now. Worse, he found evidence of older scarring. “Who did this?”
“Which one? Oh.” She twisted to look. His index finger and thumb framed the circular scar.
“Which one? Which one?!” Someone hurt her multiple times and he wanted blood.
She flinched. For a second, he felt wretched, frightening her. Then she rolled to her knees and lifted her chin, ready to fight.
He loved her.
It hit him hard, slamming him right in the chest. Whatever pain happened to her in the past may have marked her skin, but it did not define her. She came through the crucible stronger. He marveled at her.
He cupped her face, his finger tangling into her ridiculous green and sand hair. He leaned in, watching carefully for signs of distress. “Come here and kiss your mate.”
She sucked her breath in, as if surprised, and then a wicked gleam hit her eye.
They had no more words as her lips crashed into his. He drank her deep, barely breathing. She yielded, opening so sweetly for him, and she tasted even sweeter.
Mindful of her injuries, he lowered her to the mattress. Sleep clothes vanished. In the dim light, her beigey-pink skin glowed.
Lovely.
Taking his time, he explored the curves and contours of her, caressing her. Savoring. Her breaths fit perfectly in his mouth as he teased the nipples. Her back arched, gasping in pleasure.
More.
He tasted her skin, licking and kissing his way down to the juncture of her thighs. Her scent grew stronger, the cool oasis water and desert blooms concentrated and heady enough to overwhelm. Spreading her open, he admired the slick beige flesh.
She moaned and lifted her hips, wanting him.
Her taste exploded on his tongue, musk, salt and her undeniable essence. Perfect. He consumed her with the fever of a starving man, gorging himself because he never had a partner he wanted to please so much.
Brought to the edge, she trembled and pleaded with the need for release.
He probed her with a finger, then two. Her tight flesh clamped around him. So hot. She lifted her hips, riding his hand, but it was not enough. His cock leaked, and he desperately wanted to bury himself in her heat.
“Please, Havik. I need you,” she begged.
Looming over her, he planted a hand on either side of her head. Their breath mingled. She reached up and stroked the glowing tattoos at his shoulders. “Gorgeous, like you’re carved of starlight,” she whispered.
He lowered his mouth in a feverish kiss.
“If we go further, I will claim you,” he said.
She licked her lips, tasting herself. “I want that.”
“I will bite you here.” His lips brushed the curve of her neck.
“Fuck yes,” she moaned.
“Tomorrow we have much to discuss.”
She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. “You talk too much.”
“Said no one ever.”
Her eyes went wide. “Was that a joke?”
“It has been known to happen.” He licked the column of her throat. Whatever retort she had disappeared into a moan.
Her hand slid down his back, wrapping around the base of his tail. He jerked, his control gone, and his tail whipped violently. The barb grazed her thigh.
He stilled as she wiggled underneath him. “It’s warm,” she moaned.
“My barb has a toxin that increases pleasure.”
“That’s…amazing.” Her breathing grew increasingly ragged and her pupils dilated. Her hands skated along his back. “You feel amazing. Like, really good before, but now…it’s really, really good.”
“The first time is the most potent. Are you ready for me?”
“So ready.” She whimpered for relief.
He lined his cock to her entrance and pushed in. Slowly, her tight channel yielded as he pressed deeper, inch by inch.
“Oh my God, why does it feel like that?” she gasped. “Not a complaint. It’s incredible.”
He did not have the patience to explain the anatomical difference between himself and a Terran male. She was hot and gripped his cock wonderfully close. Selfishly, he would allow her to explore him tomorrow. He couldn’t think beyond where their bodies joined and how perfect she felt, or how she moved.
He pulled back and plunged in. She gasped and moaned, rising to meet him thrust for thrust. Again and again, he pumped into her until she was the only thing in the universe. The feel of his mate. Her sounds. The soft words she murmured, punctuated with curses that delighted him. She was the only one for him, and he would never let her go again.
Pleasure coiled tight at the base of his tail and zipped along his nerves. At the precipice of release, he buried his fangs into her shoulder. She gasped, her core fluttering and squeezing around him. He released deep in her, filling her with his seed.
His mate rode out her climax. The toxin from his barb took away the pain of the mate mark, burning pleasure through her until only a soft glow remained.
Rolling to the side, he gathered her to him. He stroked her hair, watching for signs of distress.
She blinked, eyes heavy with sleep. Smacking her lips, she smiled and snuggled into him.
He adored this female.
Chapter 18
Ren
Ren arrived with an unknown Mahdfel male just as Havik prepared his morning meal.
“Where is our Thalia? Has she recovered from her inju
ries?”
“She requires rest,” Havik said.
“Because of her injuries or because of all the—” Ren made a clicking, then a whistling sound.
A flush of pride rushed through him at Ren acknowledging his mating to Thalia. The disrespectful tone, however, he disliked. “It is not too late for you to perish from yesterday’s glorious battle,” he warned.
“Murder threats and coffee. You are the brother of my heart.” Ren helped himself to the Earth coffee, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
As the fiend drank the coffee, Havik bit back his irritation. He had prepared that beverage not because he enjoyed it but because he wanted Thalia to have a fresh pot available when she woke. Ren briefed him on the outcome of the raid.
One ship had separated but had been disabled before it escaped. Smaller ships, mostly owned by the auction’s wealthy patrons, had escaped.
Havik growled with frustration. Busting the auction house removed several suppliers and a marketplace, but as long as the demand remained, someone with a disregard for the law would fulfill it.
The other male, a Seeran, extended the warlord’s offer to join the clan. “I can utilize two males for gathering intelligence.”
“I handle the intelligence. Havik provides the bashing,” Ren said, biting into a piece of toast.
“And stabbing,” Havik added.
The half-eaten piece of toast fell from Ren’s hand as he sat there, jaw hanging open. “Was that humor?”
“I have a sense of humor.”
“You take that back, Garu Havik. You do not have a humorous bone in your body.”
Havik’s lips twitched, recalling a picture Thalia had shown him of a feline with a Terran bone called a humerus. That was a Terran pun. He did have a sense of humor, or at least he learned it from Thalia.
“I must add another detail to your mission,” Seeran said, unconcerned about the sudden appearance of Havik’s funny bone.
“We completed our mission,” Havik said.
“There are several animals that need to be delivered to a sanctuary. One of these is in your homeworld. I understand you are an expert.” Seeran placed a large canvas bag on the table, opening it to reveal a kumakre egg. Under the lights, the pink shell shimmered.
“Is it still alive? They must be kept very warm,” Havik said. He carefully lifted the egg to examine the shell. Not a scratch to be seen. Having survived the chaos of the raid when so many people had been trampled and injured was nothing short of a miracle.
Gently holding the egg to his ear, he heard no signs of life. When he found Stabs’ egg, the kumakre had been near hatching and furiously scratched the shell from the inside. Perhaps this one was too young to move about and warn the world of its arrival.
“I know a wildlife rescue that can care for the egg,” he said. His father’s second wife had an interest in Rolusdrean wildlife and volunteered there. The female had cared for him since infancy, yet every time Havik called her “mother,” Kaos corrected him.
Annoyance flared, irritated that he still allowed his father to dictate his thoughts and actions.
“My mother volunteers with a rescue. I’m sure she will know what to do,” he said. Ren raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
A tapping across the floor and the jingle of a bell announced Stabs’ entrance. He clawed his way up Havik’s leg and homed in immediately on the egg. Sniffing and tasting the shell with his tongue, he was not happy until he curled around the egg in Havik’s lap.
“Is that all?” Ren drummed his fingers on the table, impatient. For what, Havik could not say.
“There is the matter of the Terran female,” Seeran said. Havik’s entire body tensed. “The warlord indicates that you are to deliver the female to wherever she wishes. If she wants to remain, and only with her expressed consent, then she is to be a mate.”
Ren waved a disinterested hand. “I believe that is no longer an issue. You can complete the additional task without me,” he said, speaking to Havik.
“Yes.”
“Good. I have no wish to hear…The walls are not as soundproof as I would have liked,” Ren said. “I will leave for the Judgment now.”
Havik did not understand why Ren was so eager to leave for the new clan but he appreciated the privacy his absence would bring. “Agreed.”
While Ren prepared to leave, Havik settled Stabs in his sand enclosure with the egg. The kumakre was nearly an adult and had good instincts to protect its young. Remaining on the ship, or the larger Judgment, would deprive Stabs of the opportunity to mature, find a mate, and protect eggs of his own. The wildlife rescue would be an ideal location to reintroduce Stabs to his native habitat. Despite recognizing this as the responsible and correct action, he felt reluctant.
He coordinated with Seeran before the male and Ren left. The Judgment had room enough to house the smaller ship, which allowed Ren to bring only a small pack of necessities.
Before long, Ren stood outside the airlock, waiting for it to cycle. He shifted the pack on his shoulder and grinned at Havik. “Do not worry. Despite all my considerable charm, she likes you best. She is your mate.”
He hoped so.
Doubt gnawed at him. He had a mate once and failed Vanessa in so many ways. How dare he assume to take another mate? He was a selfish male. When temptation threatened his control, he indulged himself.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He had so much to discuss with Thalia. He could not blame her if she regretted their mating. Still, knowing he should feel shame, he could not find it within himself.
Thalia went out of her way to irritate him. She said the most outrageous things for no reason other than to make him smile. All he knew was that the universe seemed a less interesting place without Thalia.
He let her sleep as her body required rest. The previous day had not only been stressful but exposed her to various toxins.
With a course for Rolusdreus, he studied navigation charts to determine the best route to Earth or to meet with the Judgment. When he heard water rush under the floor panels—Ren was correct about the need for soundproofing—he prepared Thalia’s preferred morning meal.
She wandered in, dressed in a sleeveless black tunic long enough to reach her knees. Belted at the waist, it flattered her lean figure. The wide neck exposed the bite mark, which pleased him immensely.
As if on autopilot, she headed for the table. Havik set down a fresh pot of coffee, along with toast, butter, and the fruit preserve she enjoyed.
“My glasses! Awesome. Did you find them on the smuggler’s ship? Thank you so much.” She slipped the black frames on, appearing more like herself.
“I made them in the matter reconstructor,” he explained. The task took no time at all.
“Oh.” She blinked, squinted, slipped the spectacles down, squinted some more, and pushed them back up. “How did you get the right prescription? These are perfect.”
“The originals were fragile and precious. Ren took measurements in the event that the spectacles would need to be replaced.” He adjusted the container of milk and the placement of the mugs. The table setting was trivial, yet he could not stop himself from touching each item.
“Clever. Speaking of, where’s Ren?” Thalia tucked her legs under herself in the chair and reached for a slice of toast.
“He has joined Warlord Paax’s clan.”
“Oh.” She spread a generous layer of fruit preserves on the toast, keeping her eyes averted. “That’s good, right? That’s what you both wanted.”
“Yes. I—” He turned the coffee container so the handle would be near Thalia’s dominant hand. Her nose bunched up in confusion.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked before taking a bite out of the toast. She licked her lips to get any lingering jam and crumbs.
“A kumakre egg must be returned to Rolusdreus. Then Earth.”
“Sure thing, DB.”
“We need to talk about last night,” he said.
Thalia
“I
want—” Pushing away from the table, he paced the width of the common room.
He turned toward her, ready to speak. Her posture perked up, ready to listen. His mouth clamped shut and he returned to pacing.
He flexed his hand, stretching the fingers so they would cease their trembling.
Something was wrong.
“If the next words out of your mouth is any combination of ‘last night was a mistake,’ I will shove you right out the airlock. You are not breaking up with me,” she said.
“What? No. You will stay,” he blurted. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Space pirates are not as much fun as you’d think,” she said blithely.
“You know my heart.” He didn’t have to look so pained saying it.
“You’re making me worried. What are you telling me?”
“I missed you,” he repeated.
“Yeah, but—”
“No. Listen to my words. I mourned the loss of my former mate. For two years, I searched for her. Not once during those years did I miss her.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. Stray strands of hair drifted down. “Our acquaintance is only a handful of weeks old, but I missed you mightily.”
Holy fucking shitballs.
She must have said that part out loud because he grinned. Flustered, she didn’t know what to do with her hands or the coffee. Just keep drinking and play it cool?
The chair fell to the floor in her haste to reach him. She grabbed his hand, and he looked startled.
“I want to do this. With you. Just you,” she said. “You put your mark on me. I want to put my mark on you.” She ran a thumb over the whirling tattoos inked into his wrists. They glowed with such intensity last night.
“Yesterday, you marked me with the blood of your enemy,” he said. “Some would consider that courting behavior.” Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand. “You bring me joy, but I would not be honorable if I did not disclose all facts to you.”
Thalia returned to the table and topped off her coffee, sighing heavily. “I don’t care, Havik. I know you and I dislike that you’re acting as if we don’t know anything about each other.” He opened his mouth to speak but she held up a finger to silence him. Really, talking was not his friend at the moment. “Correction, you know almost everything about me. All my dirty little secrets. I’ve shared lots of stuff with you, good and bad, but when I asked you just basic questions, you clam up. What do I really know about you?”
Havik: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 9) Page 17
