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Alien Warrior's Wife: Sci-fi Alien Military Romance (Brion Brides Book 2)

Page 4

by Vi Voxley


  The commander was calling Urenya to heal those who had been wounded too deeply to transport safely, especially under fire from the Atherin ships, none of which luckily had the might to match the Triumphant. They could, however, pick off smaller vessels, which they did. So it was better to bring her down in a heavily guarded shuttle than risk sending all the wounded up to her.

  Urenya’s heart was pounding out of her chest as she sat in the shuttle. Not because she was afraid of dying. It wasn’t the way the Brions thought. She simply had no desire to die yet and not in the least in the way she’d seen warriors die to the Atherins. They didn’t need weapons when they could make their own skin hard enough to use their nails and hands as death-bringers. Urenya shuddered, finding Narath’s hand around her the next moment. It was steady and strong, and above all, made her feel safer. She leaned into it without thinking, although she had been resolved to keep away mere hours ago.

  She felt him tense at that, but she couldn’t pull away. It felt so right to be nestled in his arms. When he bent down to press his head against hers, she almost sighed of happiness, an emotion she hadn’t thought possible to just come out of nowhere, but there she was. On her way to a planet where every step could be her last, but at least she got to feel this before her possible doom – Narath strong and powerful at her back, holding her gently against him, so silent she could hear him breathing quietly, his head buried into her hair.

  “Don’t worry,” he said at last. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Probably thinking that had been too emotional, he added,

  “I mean, you heard what the Commander said. It wouldn’t be any fun to live through the Atherins and then get killed by him.”

  Urenya smiled, believing him. The damned ride down to the surface was so short when it felt like a little moment in time she wouldn’t have minded staying in.

  The doors opened, and she set her foot on TD-17’s surface. In truth, she was very shocked it didn’t try to kill her. Narath looked at her with such an indescribable smile it steeled her heart to keep going, knowing he’d be there to keep her safe from all harm.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Narath

  It was a terrible thing, really.

  At the moment when Narath most had to pay attention to his surroundings – not for his own life alone, but for Urenya’s as well – he was tempted to simply stare at her. The moment in the shuttle had not been a good idea. It calmed her down, but it definitely didn’t help with his ever-present longing for her. She’d fit into his embrace as perfectly as he’d thought she would. Like she was made to be there.

  Shaking his mind clear, he focused on their surroundings. The place they’d chosen for landing was as safe as it could be, a place where they’d walked around for hours, but considering reports from the other cites, even that was no guarantee. The Atherins were clever, and it seemed as though as individuals they had no sense of self-preservation. Some of them had waited very patiently for a long time to strike at their leaders when they’d almost felt safe. So there was no excuse for sloppiness now, not when he had Urenya to protect.

  He looked at her walking beside him, beautiful in her easy calm. The first burst of fear had passed with setting foot on the planet’s ground and now she was walking more freely. Lightly, as if her feet hardly touched the surface. The flowing robes around her really made it look like she was floating. Even sunlight came through the heavy clouds that usually cast the whole place in gloomy darkness to make her shine in its rays.

  Narath almost walked into the commander, who gave him his best look of complete fury. If he hadn’t known him for years and hadn’t caught on to the twinkle in his eye, Narath would have surely counted himself dead by that point.

  “Nothing gets past my best, does it,” Diego Grothan said.

  “General,” he said stubbornly. “I have brought Urenya to you, as you commanded.”

  The commander gave him one of his rare smirks.

  “So I see.”

  Nothing more followed, because while it was true Narath hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Urenya for very long, he had only allowed himself those glimpses when absolutely certain it was safe to stare. He wouldn’t have risked her life, nor his own. What kind of an image would it have been to steal another glimpse at his little beauty to see her die in the next? No. He wanted to keep looking at her, alive and well, basking in the warm light that gave the whole situation a deceptively safe feel. Even then, both him and the commander were constantly aware of every moment, every sound, every object that seemed as though it shouldn’t be moving.

  “Urenya,” the commander said. “I’ll send you a bit further away from the landing site. Do what you can, but don’t linger. It isn’t safe. I’ll send a unit with you and Narath, but they must return too. You’re a healer. I’m sure you’ll be able to make the calls.”

  He had half-expected her to shrink back from such a cold approach to the lives of warriors, but Urenya simply nodded. Maybe he had underestimated her. Urenya was a Brion too, after all, and knew that getting killed was considered a natural death for a Brion warrior.

  They set off in the direction of one of the battle fields where the fighting seemed to have ended. They’d gone over the ground there with heat sensors and motion detectors and devices that picked up sounds from orbit, just to make sure. And still, despite everything, they couldn’t be certain. Apparently one of the ways the Atherins could morph their skin removed the heat signature. They made almost no sound, up to the point where the warriors had asked their scientists whether it was possible for a humanoid species not to breathe. As for motion, well… a species that could basically change itself into a rock didn’t have that concern.

  And there were many rocks around. The surface of TD-17 seemed to be covered in nothing but, only at closer inspection one came to see that the huge mountains were actually hive cities. Just as themselves, the Atherins camouflaged their homes, making them almost indistinguishable from just a huge collection of rocks. The commander had said it was a pity such a species was so unreasonable. He admired their tactics. His warriors agreed. It was no shame for the Brions to admire an enemy, even if they’d spilled Brion blood.

  Urenya now had a fierce determination in her eyes. She needed only a passing look towards someone to see if they were worth her time. Some she just shook her head at. Those warriors were dead already, even with all the skills she possessed. They would make up their own mind as to how to die. Some she knelt down beside and looked over quickly. The tools she had with her gave off eerie sounds, sometimes sounding like a heartbeat, at other moments simply seeming to growl. She left some of the unit accompanying them behind if she thought they could handle the care themselves and went on to those who needed a specialist.

  He saw her save many lives and had to admire the way she knew at once who she could help. There were a few he would have thought fine, but Urenya saw a wound that was already too far gone. And there were those who seemed to have bled out, but she said a blood transfusion would help in no time.

  He was amazed. So amazed he nearly let her die.

  The Atherin was lying beneath a Brion warrior, and that saved Urenya’s life, in truth. He caught the motion that shouldn’t have been there in a fraction of a second, but the Atherin was quick too. His hand, with horribly sharp long nails at the end of each finger, thrust from the warrior’s side straight at Urenya’s heart – so they knew to target healers – and even as Narath pulled her away, it sliced her outer robe. If the warrior had been in a slightly different position, the Aherin only a bit taller… Narath howled in fury. He put Urenya down as gently as he could, even as the rage took over in his blood. Ripping the now dead warrior off the Atherin, he jammed his spear through the creature’s stomach. That was what he was good at. Brion spears could be trusted not to break against anything the Atherins could come up with, there were limits to what living tissue could do, after all. And he had the strength to make sure he didn’t just graze the surface. />
  The Atherin died, croaking something he didn’t understand, and when he turned, Urenya was gone.

  Fear gripped his heart for the first time he could remember. It was not an emotion a Brion warrior felt. Yet there it was, cold and sharp in contrast to his burning blood. And there was something else, new and unfamiliar, gripping his heart in a way that felt like someone was drawing all air from his lungs. He looked around wildly, searching for Urenya, searching for something to kill if the cruel terrain didn’t give her back at once.

  Then he saw her, dragged away by the Atherins, fighting them off with a medical tool that functioned as a rapier but was oh so slim. He saw it break just as he watched, but by that point he was already moving.

  Narath had always been told he moved like an avalanche. He was big, so it took time for him to get moving, but when the momentum kicked in there was little that could stand in his way. The ground around the battlefield was unchecked, but that didn’t come even close to stopping him. Teeth bared in fury he’d never felt before, he ran faster than he ever had, maddening rage boosting his speed even further, valor squares sending out bursts of light and a dark sound as they usually did in battle to attract the enemy to him – the Brions sought challenge, they didn’t run from it. The Atherins were damnably fast, he’d only turned his back to Urenya for a moment. A moment that might now cost him her life, his…

  The realization kicked in with all the force he’d always heard about. Other men described it as a moment of being all-powerful, every last sense pushed to their limit. Narath had fury flashing like thunder in his veins to add to that. His roar echoed across the planet’s surface, no doubt rousing even more creatures that were out to hurt Urenya.

  There were four of them around her now, four rock-skinned monstrosities with sharp nails that could pierce so easily through her body.

  He’d lost to the commander the moment he’d realized he was doing fine. Now he was on the brink of another danger in battle – knowing he had something to lose. Something invaluable, dearer to him than his own life.

  Narath crashed into the first Atherin that was about to stab Urenya through the heart. She dodged away, but she would have been late if it weren’t for him running into it with such speed he trampled the creature under his feet. With a roar, he slammed the full weight of his spear against its head so hard he heard it crack and nearly break off. His speed and momentum had been such it took him an extra two steps to properly stop. Seeing where the danger lied, the Atherins turned to him.

  He grinned. That was all he had wanted. The spear in his hand started twirling, its razor-sharp blade keeping them at a distance. All of them had skin hard as steel now, seeing what his spear could do, but that would hardly matter. It didn’t make them immortal. Not against a man who had just seen what future held for him and wasn’t about to let anyone take it away.

  Even if facing three Atherins alone was basically suicide. Their speed made them dangerous like that. Further away, Narath saw their unit had come under attack too. No doubt it had alerted their commander and the others, but it would take them time to come to their aid.

  For all it mattered, he was alone. No, not alone. Never alone again. He kept an eye Urenya, keeping her in his sight. He would have protected her with his own body, if that hadn’t been a terrible idea on a planet where danger could stab you in the back at any moment.

  His senses were overrun by the recognizing moment. For a short while still, he heard and sensed everything. The smell of death, the rapid, nervous sounds of the Atherins – so they did breathe after all – but above all, Urenya’s terrified sobs. He’d promised her she would be safe. It sent a painful stab to his heart.

  The first Atherin attacked, but he knew it wouldn’t come alone. Deflecting the blow aimed to shred his heart, the other two moved to his sides so he couldn’t keep them all in his field of vision. He had to end it quickly, or they would both be dead.

  One of them strayed too close to Urenya, and it only took one look in her beautiful light eyes to let the fury take over. He drove the Atherin closest to him back with a stab of his spear, letting his guard down on purpose to draw the others in. As they came, he trusted his senses to alert him, turning around just at the right moment to thrust the spear straight through the attacker’s skull. The spear, which had never been his weapon, never moving as swiftly for him as it did for the commander, was like a flash of lightning now. The other attacker received the full power of his blow as he delivered it into the Atherin’s gut. The creature stumbled back, making a noise that sounded like choking. Possibly he had broken something inside it.

  With that, he’d left his back undefended, knowing it was a risk. The final Atherin managed to stab him in the lower back, making him roar. He twirled the spear around in his hand, so the blade was directed to his back and jammed it into the body behind him. Even in its death, the Atherin twisted its hand to make his wound worse, but Narath was beyond pain. All that mattered was protecting Urenya, whose scream had alerted him to turn so the killing blow only landed on his back where it just hurt. With a grunt, he pushed the dying Atherin away from him and limped to make sure the third one was dead too. Finding it, he crushed its skull in with a final, deafening blow.

  Then he slumped. The whole fight hadn’t even taken a minute, the Atherins were so fast. Distantly he was aware of Urenya by his side, helping him sit. He smiled. She was safe. That was good. Only that was important.

  “Narath,” he heard her whisper frantically. “Narath. You have to stay conscious. Don’t die, don’t die now.”

  Die? He had no intention of dying.

  “I won’t die,” he promised her, feeling his eyes grow heavy. The blood loss must have been more dire than he’d thought. “I want to see you again, gesha…”

  The last things he saw before it all went black were Urenya’s big, wide, impossibly beautiful eyes.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Urenya

  Oh no. No, no, no.

  To be completely honest, Urenya didn’t know what she was saying no to. To Narath dying in her arms? Or had she started the fighting part of a binding already since it was traditional for the gesha to resist the binding at first?

  Possibly both. Probably both. She had never dared to believe she would be bound again. Hoped, yes, of course. She couldn’t afford to hope now, not when her mind needed to be clear.

  More pressing issues first. The shuttle was rocking around them, under attack from the Atherins, but Urenya had been relentless. The look on Diego’s face would have been amusing on any other day, given it was very likely no one had demanded anything from him in many years. But to her, it had simply been a matter of time. Narath was definitely one of those she would have nodded to, signaling it was better to think of a dignified way to die, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him.

  It was unfair, perhaps. But if what Narath said was true, she didn’t have to be rational about it. A gesha would do much worse to save her fated.

  Her hands worked frantically while her mind was just as busy trying to completely shut down. So there was an answer to all the questions, the unexplainable desire, the thread that had seemed odd to her when they’d only ever met twice. The way his eyes had lit up when he’d looked at her. Perfectly clear now.

  She didn’t know what to feel. Emotions were spiraling in her, tumbling over each other. The most obvious, most instant was fear. Her gerion or not, Narath was dying right in front of her eyes, dying because of her.

  The image of him fighting was still before her eyes. He’d crashed into the Atherins like sky falling down on them, the call of the valor squares sending out their battle cry nearly deafening. His roars, which she’d found exciting in their growl form, had terrified even her. Urenya didn’t know if he’d even noticed, but the Atherins – who they thought had no sense of fear as such – had shrunk back from his terrible fury. All of that was compatible with the gesha thing, of course. If she truly was his, it made perfect sense for him to act like that. It mu
st have been terrible for him to see her in danger, in all likelihood worse than it was for her, though there had been a long, horrible minute where she’d been completely sure she would die.

  Her scream had made Narath turn at just the right moment, but she didn’t know how much good it did. The monstrous hand-blade had still cut through organs, and it was frankly a miracle in Urenya’s opinion that Narath was still alive.

  In the back of her mind, the idea that the reason Narath was still drawing breath was because of her didn’t want to go away. He was simply refusing to die now that he’d found her. That fit perfectly into her wildly clashing emotions.

  Because there, underneath all the fear and concern and frantically trying to remember everything she could about organ regrowth – not a precise science and certainly one without guarantees – there was the core of all of them. Happiness, completely unfit for a situation like that but happiness nonetheless. If only she could stop her fated from bleeding to death, she could even smile.

  Thirteen hours later, Urenya allowed herself a small smile, although in truth it felt as though she’d gone insane and not realized it. Narath was lying before her on one of the med bay tables, one of the reinforced ones because she’d honestly feared he wouldn’t fit on a regular one being big even for a Brion.

  She was looking at him with the sort of mindless hope that only the Brion fated were capable of. He’d made it. Or she’d made it. The surgery had been mind-numbing. Seleya had taught them all that if possible, a fated should never be responsible for their other half in any sort of life-or-death situation. They simply could not be expected to act rationally, nor would they be responsible for how well they adapted to that kind of pressure.

 

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