Soren's Bondmate

by Mardi Maxwell

  Two planets and two moons lay directly ahead of him. The escape pod drifted toward the smaller planet, picking up speed as it entered its gravity. The pull on the hull triggered the automatic landing procedure and managed to slow its descent just before it hit the surface of a frozen lake.

  Shards of ice flew into the air and sprayed out behind it as the pod skidded across the lake and finally came to rest against several large boulders.

  # # #

  Skye leaned against the cool wall of her habitat while she watched the familiar but dreary terrain of her sanctuary. Loneliness ate away at her soul while the need to find a mate burned through her veins increasing the beat of her heart and the rhythm of her breathes. With every cycle that passed she felt herself weakening and had to fight to keep from giving into the hopelessness that filled her. Like many Krystali enchantresses she would die young without a mate to love and sustain her. She'd never be the mother of a strong son, or a precious daughter who would carry on her line. Only her twin brother, Berit, would honor her memory but eventually she'd be forgotten. As was right, she thought, then said, "Screw that. I don't want to be forgotten. I want to live."

  Catching her reflection in the krystal window she stared at the black tattoo that surrounded her left eye. The damn thing marked her as a krystal enchantress and was the reason she lived alone and isolated on Tundra. Seeing it brought back memories of the times she'd tried to remove it by scrubbing her skin until it was raw and bloody. Of course when it healed the mark had always remained.

  Resigned to her destin, she breathed on the krystal window, creating a haze of fog and cursed the males who kept trying to abduct her. Especially Merykh of Crimeryn. After his third attempt her brother, Berit, had hidden her on this frozen planet while he searched for a mate for her.

  "Merykh, you bastard," she muttered while she drew a crude gesture in the fog on the window. "It isn’t my fault you're a disgusting bastard."

  As a young child she'd believed it would be exciting to be wanted and pursued by handsome, strong warriors but the reality was a nightmare. She hadn't known about the deep feeling of repulsion she'd have to the wrong male. With a slight shudder she wished again that she'd been born a krystal healer or even a krystal conjurer. They didn't have this much trouble finding a mate which meant they didn't die young the way she would either.

  On Krystali a healer could heal common injuries or illnesses but she couldn't conjure white krystal or heal herself. A krystal conjurer could conjure white krystal as a weapon. She could also heal any wound made by white krystal and manipulate it into needed items such as shelters, clothing and food.

  Skye, though, was the rarest of the rare. She could do everything a healer or conjurer could do but she could also conjure dark krystal, a substance so deadly that the smallest sliver would kill a person within micro-units. If she'd been able to find a mate she would've given him the ability to cast dark krystal. That ability alone would've made him one of the most invincible and powerful warriors in the galaxy, perhaps in the universe.

  She drew a circle around the crude drawing then fed up with her pity party she stuck her tongue out at her reflection, and mumbled, "Stop being pathetic." The action drew an involuntary smile from her. With a laugh she began to turn away when a silver object falling from the sky caught her attention. Dark smoke trailed behind it as it seemed to slow down just before it hit the middle of a frozen lake, skidded across the surface and crashed into the shore. A geyser of ice flew into the air but she didn't see it settle as she was already scrambling into her outdoor wear. Black leather pants, shirt and boots covered by a black hooded cloak and gloves to protect her fingers from the freezing temperatures.

  Excited, that something was happening to break the intolerable boredom, she leapt down the steps of her shelter to the lower level. With a sweep of her hand she conjured a door, hurried through it and ran as fast as she could toward the crash site. As she followed the path she thanked the gods for breaking the monotony of her existence then remembered the dangers of her isolated home and searched the area around her. Spotting a line of figures moving down the side of a distant mountain, their dark furs a sharp contrast to the snow and ice of the path they followed, she knew she wasn't the only witness to the crash.

  "Farg," she mumbled as she identified a hunting party from the local tribe that she called Groaners because of the grunts and groans they made when they communicated. They were primitive and believed that by devouring their enemy they would be given his or her strength. Something that made her gag every time she thought about it. She watched them for a moment and decided she'd reach the object and have fifteen micro-units to examine it and leave before they arrived. She certainly didn't want to get trapped by them again as she had the last time she'd been out and hadn't paid attention to her surroundings.

  She'd been forced to conjure a shelter around herself in front of them. They'd hung around for three cycles and poked at the shelter with their spears while they'd tried to figure out where'd she'd gone. Smiling, she remembered how each night she'd moved her shelter a few feet closer to their fire and puzzled them even more. When she'd grown weary of the game she'd snuck away while they slept. Now, they actively hunted her and she always had to be on guard.

  Frowning at the memory of how everything always went wrong she ran around several large boulders then squeezed through a crevice in the rock. When she stepped out her boot slipped on a patch of ice and sent her tumbling down the path. A sharp screech of pain echoed in the valley when an inconveniently placed rock at the edge of the lake stopped her fall. Winded, she lay there for a moment then forced herself to get up. She held her bruised side while she hobbled toward the object unaware that several dead weeds were tangled in her braid. Finally reaching it, she bent over and moaned with pain while she caught her breath.

  The object was about the size of a small glider but oval in shape. She made a circuit around it with the ice cracking beneath her feet. Finally, she approached the ship, touched it and jumped back. When it wobbled then settled again she laughed at herself and made a fist and tapped on it. It sounded hallow.

  Heat rose from it filling the air with steam and forming a puddle of melting ice beneath it. Standing back, she chewed on the tip of a gloved finger and decided it must be laying on the door. She pushed and rocked it until it rolled over and revealed another rounded and dented surface but no door. Frustrated, knowing she was running out of time, she ran her hands over the scorched surface and found a small area that felt different. She pressed on it and with a hiss a section swung open revealing a cockpit filled with smoke. Wires hung from a smashed panel sending out a shower of sparks toward the lone occupant.

  Gasping with fear, she stepped back, expecting to be attacked. When nothing happened she took a cautious step closer and looked at him and for some reason tears filled her eyes when she saw his lifeless body. "Get a grip Skye."

  She waited another moment then reached out and touched him. He was huge, perhaps almost seven feet tall. He had long black hair but the sides were cut shorter revealing an intricate tattoo. She ran her finger down several of the tattooed lines then traced over the black swirls and other shapes between them before turning his face toward her. Smears of blood covered his forehead and coated dark brows that curved above closed eyes outlined with thick, straight lashes. His mouth was beautiful. The lower lip full. The upper lip sharply sculpted.

  An object stuck up behind his head and was probably the cause of some of his head trauma. She gently rolled his head to the side and determined it was the handle of a beautiful but expensive warrior's sword. Sighing with regret that he'd died so brutally she turned his face toward her again. High cheekbones and a firm, stubborn looking chin led to a strong muscled neck and broad shoulders.

  He was dressed in an open black vest that left his massive, muscled arms and chest bare except for the blood that covered him. Wide gold and platinum armbands with bright red gems circled his upper arms. Black leather pants covered his legs
and black boots protected his feet. Even in death he was the image of what she'd dreamt a warrior should be—strong and handsome and she couldn't help but wonder if he would have made a worthy mate.

  She began to lower the door and let his ship be his tomb when he shivered, startling her. With a small cry of surprise she moved closer and ran her gloved hands over him, identifying multiple broken bones and deep cuts over the parts of his body she could see. Dark red blood flowed from gashes on his chest and temple. She removed her gloves, laid her hands on his cheeks and felt his life force slipping away.

  Glancing at the sky she wondered if the gods were watching. "I hope you know what you're doing. We all know this is going to get me in trouble." She didn't expect a response so didn’t waste her time waiting for one. Instead she grabbed his arms and pulled even though she knew she was hurting him. He didn't moan or pull away from her but he also didn't budge so she pulled harder and he fell toward her. She let him land against her belly before she slowly stepped back and let his weight roll the pod until the opening was closer to the ground.

  The ice cracked again just as the sound of the approaching tribesmen reached her. "Sorry about this," she said, then biting her lower lip, she grabbed his arms and dragged him toward the largest of the boulders.

  "Why are you so fargen big?" she mumbled as she dropped his arms. Behind her she heard a loud cracking sound and turned just in time to see the pod break through the ice and sink into the depths of the lake. "Well, that solves the problem of what to do with that."

  With only nano-units to spare, she thanked the gods that their lives had been spared then called on the elements. The air shimmered and the bloody tracks she'd made disappeared as a shelter formed around her and the warrior. Skye knew that from the outside it blended in with the other boulders even though from the inside it was clear. She breathed a short sigh of relief and plopped down next to the warrior just as the Groaners burst into the clearing.

  Most of them stayed back from the broken ice but a foolish one went closer and almost fell through. The others pulled him to safety as their leader appeared and began shouting and gesturing. After a few moments they turned and began leaving the area but the leader stopped and sniffed the air and Skye knew he'd caught her scent and the scent of the warrior's blood. He roared with anger at the loss of an easy meal then followed his men.

  She dismissed them and looked at the male she'd rescued while she wondered if this meant he belonged to her. Wasn't there something about saving a person's life that meant they owed you a life debt? She leaned toward him and whispered, "If you owe me a life debt I wouldn't mind if you woke up and was the kind of warrior who could save my life."

  Her only answer was the rising and falling of his chest as he fought to live. His clothes were soaked with blood so she conjured a krystal knife and used it to cut them away. Once he was naked, she ran her hands over him, carefully cataloguing each injury. His right wrist and both legs were broken. A massive bruise was forming over his chest and belly where he'd broken several ribs and had internal injuries.

  Krystal enchantresses needed the love and companionship of their family or mate to remain strong but she'd been alone for the last two moon phases. The last time Berit had visited her it had been hard to tell him that her death was drawing near. Saddened by the memory and his reaction she moved her palms over the warrior's body and began trying to heal him. Where his internal organs were damaged and bleeding she lingered and felt them begin to function again. Little by little she healed the most critical injuries then even though she was exhausted she went back and tried to heal more of his wounds, determined that he would live.

  While she worked some of his memories flooded into her mind. She learned his name but more importantly she discovered that he needed a mate as much as she did. As the connection between them grew stronger she saw the many battles he'd fought and that he was a warrior whose honor was his life.

  Knowing she'd found a worthy mate too late she continued to work until she collapsed against him. Lying there, hearing his heartbeat slow she knew he would die this cycle but he would not die alone. She used the last of her strength to clean his body of all traces of blood then she decorated the inside of their shelter, now their tomb, with swirls of precious gems. On the outside she wrote their names and what had happened so her brother would know that she'd found her mate before she died. She removed her clothes, laid down next to him with her head on his shoulder and allowed her tears to fall as she grew colder and he grew hotter. He struggled for another breath and his eyes opened revealing the most beautiful aqua eyes she'd ever seen even though they were filled with pain. Skye brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Hello, Soren."

  "Little heart." He stared at her then grimaced with pain when he drew in another breath.

  She not only saw his struggle to live but felt it and something inside her leapt to life. She couldn't let him die. She sat up and held his face between her palms while she looked into his eyes. "Soren, say you want me."

  He groaned with pain and his eyes began to close. She tapped his cheek. "No, stay awake." He struggled to open his eyes and succeeded. "Your mating fever is killing you. My need for a worthy mate is killing me. I can save us but you have to say you want me." By coercing him into accepting her claim she was breaking the first law. The penalty if she was caught was death.

  "Want you," he said, his voice weak as he struggled to pull in another breath.

  She held his head and forced him to meet her eyes. "I claim you, Soren. My heart is yours to cherish. My life is yours to protect. I willingly give my powers to you for all time." She opened his mouth then breathed her life force into his body before she moved back and waited to see if she was in time to save them. Slowly his body began to heal itself. The bruises and scars on his body faded until his bronze flesh was unblemished. A blue mist with black swirls flowed from his body toward hers.

  He opened his eyes and with a roar came up into a crouch and leapt toward her, taking her down to the soft mat she'd made for him earlier. His huge body caged her as one of his hands curved around her nape and lifted her mouth to his. His lips blazed hot against hers, forcing them open so his tongue could sweep inside. He explored her mouth, learning her taste. The kiss went on and on until she was breathless and burning. She wiggled and pulled him closer, spreading her legs and giving him room to move between them. Joyfully, she stroked his body, touching as much of him as she could reach, encouraging him to complete the bond between them. Wave after wave of her power slid through the mist of his desire and pushed them toward a burning need for each other.

  He slid kisses over her cheeks and neck then down her body, over soft breasts with hard nipples and onto her bare mound where he breathed in and tasted her scent before he moved to her feet. Each kiss he left on her skin as he moved back up her body branded her as his. She claimed them just as she'd claimed him.

  She wrapped her legs around his back and felt him place the head of his cock against her and thrust. She welcomed him and he kissed her, hard, his tongue stroking hers while he withdrew then pressed in again.

  Skye kissed his neck, his cheeks, and his lips. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her deeply pushing their arousal higher and higher. She moved her hands to his shoulders and caressed him, urging him on. "Please, oh, oh, yes." She gasped his name when an unbearable rush of pleasure exploded through her, shaking her.

  He groaned, tightened his arms around her then shuddered as he came. A moment later he collapsed and his weight pressed her into the soft mat beneath them. She kissed his cheek and he lifted up far enough that their eyes met. Skye smiled, brushed her hand over his head and heard him moan with pleasure. A sense of joy filled her. They were alive and she'd found her mate. She raised up onto her elbows and kissed him. "Soren," she breathed his name in wonder. "My Soren. My mate."

  He kissed her then moved to the side but kept his arms around her before he rested his head on her breast and with a sigh fell asleep. While he rested she th
ought about their situation. Claiming him without his informed consent was a risky move on her part. She could only hope that when she told him she'd done it to save their lives he'd understand and accept their mating.

  It was the way of her people that once a mate was chosen love quickly followed. Even now her love for him blazed inside her. If he objected to her claim he had the right to go to the Krystali Kouncil and lodge a complaint. Something she definitely wanted to avoid although in her experience warriors were unpredictable and difficult to deal with at the best of times.

  She'd talk to him in the morning. He would have to accept her once he understood that only he could give her the life force she needed to survive. Satisfied with her decision she curled her body around his and fell asleep.

  Chapter Two

  He opened his eyes and sat up. His movements woke the female next to him. She stretched, revealing that she was naked beneath the blanket that covered her. Bright teal eyes opened and glanced his way. She smiled and his heart skipped a beat before he controlled his heated reaction to her presence. In a deep gravelly voice he asked, "Where are we? What is this place?"

  She reached out and touched his arm. "This is our shelter. How do you feel? Any pain?"

  He rubbed his aching temple. "Who are you?"

  "You don't remember me?" she asked.

  The sound of her surprised voice with an undertone of relief raised the hairs on the back of his neck in warning. He watched her closely when he answered her. "No."

  She hesitated then touched his arm again. "I'm Skye, your mate."

  "My mate?" He fought to keep the suspicion out of his voice while he focused on her, trying to remember her and drew a blank. Reaching out, he traced the black tattoo that surrounded her left eye then slid his fingers over her soft cheek to her mouth and full lower lip. She surprised him by leaning toward him and accepting his touch. He tested her attachment to him by sliding his hands over her creamy skin and down her neck to her breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath his palms. He caught her shy smile.