Mylomon: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 3)

by Nancey Cummings

  “Shield percentage,” he barked.

  Daisy desperately searched the monitors for something that looked like a shield or a shield symbol. “I have no idea. I can’t read Suhlik.” Two new, massive red dots joined the monitor. “We got incoming. Big.”

  “More fighters.”

  “I thought the clan cleared this planet.”

  “What is that Terran insect? You kill one and there’s a hundred to take its place?”

  “Cockroaches. Just focus on flying. I think this is the gun.” She flipped open the cage surrounding a joystick. It better be the guns.

  A new image of the fighter chasing them appeared on the monitor. Targeting systems came online. Daisy had no real training at flying or dogfighting but she’d spent many hours with Vox playing video games. She lined up the targeting system, watching for the symbol to turn green and fired.

  She beamed with pride as a missile slammed into the fighter. The shielding absorbed the hit but she was onto something. Suhlik fighter design was not that different from the simulated Mahdfel crafts. Thank the stars Vox wasted so much time gaming.

  The next hit got through the shield and the fighter fell back. Unfortunately, it was joined by two more. They overwhelmed her. Daisy fired randomly, lucky to hit anything.

  Their shielding failed and the engine was hit. The fighter pointed to the ground and Mylomon struggled to keep the nose up.

  “Are we crashing?”

  “The engine is out. This is an unscheduled landing. Strap yourself in.”

  Amazingly the Suhlik fighter jets turned back. Why would they give up pursuit now? Her thoughts were cut short.

  The fighter slammed into the ground, belly scraping across the tundra. Metal tore with a high pitched screech as the plane gouged into the land. Safety harness engaged, Daisy jostled and her teeth rattled. She could feel her brain bouncing inside her skull.

  Finally, the fighter jet came to stop.

  Metal ticking as it cooled, Mylomon unstrapped himself before helping her out of the wreckage. A laceration on his forehead bled mightily. She moved to clean his wound with a first aid kit. He caught her by the wrist. “No time for that now.”

  “I thought you said you could fly this thing.”

  “Fly, yes. Land, no.”

  Daisy couldn’t help but smirk at his unintentional quote from a favorite movie of hers. “I can’t believe this is the second ship you’ve crashed.”

  Mylomon grumbled a warning, delicate little flower that he was. “We have far to go before we rest, female.”

  Mylomon

  He worried about the rain. He worried about his mate in the rain. He worried about his mate walking on her injured ankle in the rain on muddy, uncertain ground.

  Many worries crowded his mind. If he were on the Judgment, he would go to the training arena and spar with a mech until his mind cleared. Or he would sharpen his blades until his mind reached clarity as precise as those honed edges.

  He could do nothing here. Just walk and worry.

  Daisy had witnessed everything. Every dark secret he wanted to keep from her, this wretched planet dragged out of him. But she did not turn away in revulsion…

  That was interesting. What was it she was always going on about? Communication. Learning how to talk to each other.

  Words had never been his friend. Action was direct and could not be misconstrued.

  He had taken many dark actions in the past. Some at the orders from others. All for the good of the clan. He was stillness and silence; the knife in the dark. He had remorse for those dark, necessary actions, but not regret. The knife in the dark flew against the Mahdfel understanding on honor but it saved time and lives.

  His mate did not turn away from him as he extracted information from the Suhlik male. She understood the brutality of necessity.

  Strange. He rubbed at his chest, a familiar tingling sensation just below the surface of his skin. If he had a tattoo, he knew, it would be glowing now with strong emotion.

  She had told him time and again that she did not mind his abnormality. That he was not an abomination in her eyes. She accepted him as he was. He had not believed any of it. Until now.

  Perhaps communication was not what he lacked. He needed to listen.

  They walked until the sun hovered over the horizon. He kept an easy pace but he knew Daisy struggled. She refused to let him carry her, even though she weighed next to nothing. He could sprint all day with her clinging to his back and not break a sweat.

  He sat his mate down with the remaining ration bar and bottle of water. He set about making a fire. The campsite was next to a cluster of stone. Not idle but not completely exposed.

  Fire blazing, he sat on the ground next to his mate. He reached for her hands to inspect for damage.

  “I’m fine,” she protested.

  “Your ankle is injured and you refuse to acknowledge it. What other injuries are you withholding, female?”

  Daisy

  “My name is Daisy,” she said, attempting to tug away her hand. “I’m too tired for this nonsense, Mylo.”

  His grip remained firm, his thumb brushing across the sensitive flesh of her wrist. “I know your name.”

  “Then use it.” Big purple idiot.

  “I am not worthy to even speak the name of someone as good and pure as you.” He released her hand, scooting away. His gaze fell away.

  Daisy’s heart lurched. There was so much self-loathing to unpack in his confession. Years of rejection and otherness had warped his sense of self-worth. She wished there was a way to fix it, to repair his ego and restore his perceived value with words. The best she could do was be honest and explain herself. Mylomon wasn’t a mind reader, after all. He could walk through walls. Stars, he walked through walls with her but he still couldn’t read minds.

  “When you don’t say my name, I feel unwanted,” she said.

  Fast, faster than humanly possible, he rushed forward and captured her face in both his hands. His eyes burned with a frightening intensity. His grip firm but not crushing, Daisy was unable to turn her head and look away. “You know that is not true.”

  “Do I? You’re never around. I go to bed by myself. I wake up alone. Feels like you’re avoiding me.”

  “I know a female such as yourself could never love an abomination. I hoped that if you could not love me, I could give you someone you did love.” His hands dropped and he looked away. “I authorized the test for Meridan.”

  Daisy leaned back and exhaled slowly. There were a few ways she could respond. “You are not as the stars made you. You are as the Suhlik made you but I love you. Not despite. Not because. I love you.” And every word would be true. Or, “Prove it. Claim me. Right now. Make me your mate.”

  What she actually said: “You did what with my sister!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daisy

  Conflicted didn’t begin to cover her emotions.

  Daisy clambered over the mossy rocks, heading toward a stream. She might as well forage for some almost-cattails. Now that she knew what the armadillo-bears looked like, she avoided the slumbering animals. Time out of the campsite gave her time to unpacked all that Mylomon confessed.

  He had authorized Meridan’s test.

  On one hand, Mylomon understood that being separated from her sister upset Daisy, so he gave her back her sister. But on the other hand, giving a person as a gift? Who even does that?

  He was sensitive to her emotional needs, which was a good thing, but his actions… Intentions mattered, right? He wanted Daisy to be happy and if happiness meant being in the same clan as her sister, then he did what was necessary.

  Mylomon had already made his speech about doing what was necessary for the good of the clan, even if it made him unpopular. So he understood that his gift was wonderful and terrible? Awful in both senses of the word. And what if Meridan hadn’t been matched to Kalen? Mylomon took a huge risk based on what? Nothing. He guessed.

  She and Mylomon were a 98.5 five
percent match, which was the legal minimum for a match. She heard stories of women who accepted their match with a 98.4 percent risk. Close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades, right? She also knew plenty of women who wept with relief at the same, non-legally binding number.

  She was getting distracted. Daisy plunged the knife into the mud and dug up the newer stalks. New growth had a crunch, mild edible stalk and roots that could be roasted like potatoes. She took her frustration out in stabbing at the the ground and yanking the cattail stalks.

  If Meridan found out, she’d never forgive the invasion of her privacy, even if her legally mandated marriage turned out happy in the end. She hated people making decisions for her.

  Mylomon gave Daisy her sister, but he also gave her a secret to keep from her sister.

  Crunching grass underfoot made Daisy pause. She scanned the area and did not see the obvious source of noise. Probably an armadillo-bear having a snack. She focused her attention back to digging.

  What was Mylomon playing at when he took such a gamble with Meridan and Kalen? Mylomon’s actions told her that he considered her happiness important, more important than a clan member, more important than the self-actualization of another person. You don’t wrap up another living being with a bow and give them as a gift. People don’t do that. And what did it say about Daisy that it secretly thrilled her?

  The cool metal of a gun barrel pressed into the side of her head. “Drop the knife, female,” a voice hissed. The slight lag in rendering told her it was a Suhlik warrior hissing instructions.

  Daisy stopped her digging and held up empty hands.

  “It took you long enough to wander away. On your feet, ape.” The gun prodded her to stand. Water sloshed into her completely inappropriate-for-the-wilderness slippers.

  Daisy glanced quickly at her captor and then down to the ground, like a meek little human. Assess. Just one Suhlik and quiet enough to sneak up on her. If he wanted her dead, she’d be dead.

  Resources? A knife left in the mud. A husband stewing in his own grumpy mood in a cave. And armadillo-bears. Lots of slumbering armadillo-bears.

  “Move,” the Suhlik ordered. No gun prods this time. The weapon hung lax at his side.

  Typical Suhlik arrogance—expecting her to just go without a fight.

  Daisy broke into a run, heading for the closest hibernating animal. She made it four steps before a prick in her lower back made the world blur.

  Well, what a load of garbage.

  Mylomon

  His mate failed to return by sunset. Vexing female. What point did she intent to prove with this tantrum? She only endangered herself in the dark. Her ankle was already stressed from traveling all day. If she stumbled in the dark, her delicate Terran bones could break. Or she could be lost. Or have fallen in a sinkhole.

  A dozen scenarios flickered through his mind, none of them good and all ending in disaster.

  Mylomon put out the fire and grabbed the flashlight. Time to retrieve his female.

  Daisy’s tracks were obvious. In her anger, she failed to obfuscate her footprints. He followed the trail to the stream.

  His own anger and frustration grew with every step. Her rage at him made no sense. He’d acted in good faith for her. Then this foolish tantrum. Childishness. What did she hope to gain? To tell him she was upset? Fine. He got the message. Her insistence on wandering in the dark did nothing but endanger herself.

  Females.

  Did every male have these complaints or was his female just particularly difficult?

  She had fire in her blood, that much he could not deny. And did he not want a female with intensity? How could he complain if the fire in her blood matched the venom in her tongue? He was being an ungrateful male. What was the Terran words she slung at him?

  A big purple idiot.

  A familiar tingling sensation spread over his chest as her recalled with approval the way she set her hands on her hips. Her fighting stance. And she could be sweet.

  Incredibly sweet.

  Hmm.

  He needed to find her. Apologize. Convince her to let him lick her cunt again. Yes, that was a good plan.

  Daisy’s trailed ended at the water’s edge.

  Mylomon grew cold at the signs of the obvious struggle. Cattails pulled by the root were scattered on the ground. Heavy footsteps crushed the grass and marred the mud. He found her knife tossed to the side a few feet away.

  Two sets of footprints. The new set was difficult to find in the dark but find it he did. A stealthy approach. Then an ambush on his mate, who was busy pulling cattails up by the root.

  He followed the struggle as the unknown assailant dragged Daisy. Her feet kicked at the ground, leaving him a trail. Then the struggle ceased.

  Mylomon growled, crouching down and touching the dead grass. They injured his mate. Or incapacitated her. Perhaps both.

  The trail continued, now the uneven gait of one person carrying another. After half an hour, the trail ended in a clearing. The flattened grass and scorched earth told him a shuttle had landed here.

  Mylomon knew who took his mate and where they would go.

  His captors hoped to lure him to their lair. The Suhlik wanted their foundling back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daisy

  The bone chilling cold woke her.

  Daisy rolled onto her back, the spongy floor giving under her. White walls. White ceiling. White floors. Fuzzy memories of the Suhlik solder grabbing her surfaced. Panic seized her throat but she fought through it with long, deep breaths.

  Assess.

  Adapt.

  Survival was non-negotiable. Her story did not end here. She knew how her story ended: at home, in her bed, old and surrounded by her half-dozen sons, each one she busted to the seams with pride over, much to their embarrassment, and Mylomon holding her hand.

  She wanted that, more than anything, to grow old with her husband. They’d had a rough start as they learned how to communicate with each other, but they would pull through. Daisy knew it. She wouldn’t settle for less and no dumb space lizard would to keep her from her man. Male. Whatever.

  Daisy sat up slowly. Her head throbbed and nausea sat in her gut.

  Assess.

  She was naked. Of course. Don’t all alien abductions start that way? Knock the woman out, strip her down and then experiment in the most violating way?

  Panic tried to return but Daisy refused to let panic cloud her thinking. The Suhlik wanted her to feel vulnerable. This was part of their mind games.

  And she was alive to play a game with; that was worth something. If the Suhlik wanted her dead, she’d be dead. They had to know Mylomon would not rest until he found her.

  So this was a trap and she was the bait.

  The Suhlik wanted their foundling back.

  Daisy surveyed the room. Four walls. No furniture, no blanket or pillow. The floor and walls were made of a dense, spongy material. A sani unit and waste receptacle was in one corner. Water came from the other corner. No food. No warmth. A seam or seal for a door was not obvious. All four walls appeared perfectly smooth.

  Daisy had nothing to do but wait. She curled into a ball, tucking in her hands and feet. Someone would come. They needed her alive so they would have to feed her and give her clothes, or a blanket. A blanket would be so good. At the very least, someone would come to gloat. The bad guys always did that.

  ***

  Strong hands grabbed her roughly under the armpits and lifted her off the floor. Daisy floundered, struggling to find her footing. The unseen person pulled her hair, yanking her head back. The Suhlik filled her vision, golden skin shimmering with delicate scales and a face so classically handsome it was unreal.

  The Suhlik hissed words, her implanted translator chip slow to render the meaning. “Move, you ugly ape.”

  Daisy spat, hitting him on the cheek.

  The male’s eyes narrowed and his lips split into a grin. Row after row of sharp, needle-like teeth gleamed in the light. Mo
nster. A true monster, the fairy tale kind that seduced innocents with pretty faces and promises and then gobbled them up.

  She should have never called Mylo a monster. She apologized but now she truly regretted her words. She didn’t mean them. He wasn’t a monster. He was what the monsters had made him, yes, but he was also so much more.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she said. “I know you need me alive.”

  The male delivered a swift punch to her stomach. Daisy doubled over, pulling her hair again before he released his grip and she fell to the floor.

  “We need you alive, not pretty,” the male said.

  “Are you insane? Do not damage the female,” a second male said.

  Fantastic. More Suhlik. At least this one didn’t want her damaged. Yet.

  Daisy was pushed out of the cell, down a corridor and into a medical exam room. The male gave her a paper robe before stomping away. Designed for a larger frame, it hung off her.

  She took in the room, not that there was much to take in. There was an exam table in the center. That was it. She knew she was meant to sit on the table, waiting for whatever the Suhlik planned to subject her to, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d rather stand. Or sit on the floor. Anything but comply.

  The door opened. A different Suhlik male entered, as ethereally beautiful as the previous. This one lacked a look of malice, which should have eased her worry but instead only served to unnerve her. This one had plans for her and she was pretty sure those plans were bad news.

  He circled around her, examining her from all angles. He hissed, sounding almost like words. The implanted translator chip had a moment of lag while it rendered the hisses into an understandable language. “You’re not what I expected.”

  Daisy opened her mouth for a devastatingly witty retort but a prick on her arm distracted her. “What the hell, man,” she said, rubbing the afflicted spot.