Vanquished

by Allyson Young

  Stenlor snorted. “Indeed. That Juxtant was severely injured. I’ll catalogue his injuries for you.”

  Vayne didn’t care and blocked out the chatter as he noted the bruising on his little warrior’s beautiful face. It was the only thing visible to denote such terrible trauma, and even that was fading as a result of his medic’s technological skill. Neira was cold to the touch and he carefully tested his strength, sitting up and reaching to tug at her.

  “Allow me, sir.” The medic didn’t question his sovereign’s intent but intuited it and eased Neira’s slender form over until she fit up against Vayne. So still and cold, yet she molded against him as though it had always been her rightful place. Eltrast muttered about returning to duty and hurried away, his face strained and anxious. Vayne hoped he would deviate and check in on his own chosen. One never knew when fate would intervene.

  As his strength returned and his body stabilized, Vayne worked the sheets free and held his chosen closer. Skin to skin, he held her and stroked her pale face, pressing his lips against hers. The faint huff of her breath gave him hope and he clung to it, grimly. He spoke her name over and over, using his body heat in an attempt to warm her, and prayed. Stenlor went away to finish his work after a baffled look at Neira, and she and Vayne huddled together in a mockery of the intimacy they had so recently established.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Neira. Neira! Little warrior.” Vayne’s urgent voice echoed above her but she was down so deep, so far, that she couldn’t respond. Did the Shadalla believe in the afterlife? Did lifemates fade and find the other later? So many things she didn’t know and hadn’t had the time to ask. They’d had so little time, thanks to her stupid issues. She wanted to believe she could talk with him, even here, but there was no comfort when one lost the love of their life, and it didn’t seem possible she would be so blessed.

  So cold. She was back to feeling chilled again, frozen to the marrow. If she didn’t think about Vayne dying at her feet while she was powerless to aid him, perhaps this abyss would swallow her and afford her the kindness of oblivion. But perhaps her penance was to remain here, cold for eternity.

  Drifting, she ignored the increasing desperation in that voice. His voice.

  One would think one’s life might flash before one but not here, so she sought it out. She summoned up memories of her childhood, the sweet, smiling faces of her sisters, Anika and Izabella, making her own lips twitch and curve. A single tear formed as she mourned them, separated so many years ago. Her parents—hard working, tough Russian stock, also gone, missing in the war. The military had served as Neira’s home and became her family. Again, all gone, lost. Perhaps if it hadn’t been for the reawakening of her heart and healing of her soul by the alien male who’d kidnapped her, yet made her his own without the advantages he’d originally touted, she might rest easy in this state of limbo. But clearly, she’d suffer for eternity, so she might as well get on with it. She wouldn’t dwell on the last moments of Vayne’s life, not the way she’d watched his big, strong body fade. Instead, she would keep the memory of his beloved face right in the forefront of her mind, open and vulnerable as he allowed her into his very being.

  Whispers of sensation chased themselves across her cheeks and gentle touches pressed against her closed lids. More sweet pressure and warmth on her mouth as her body warmed and melted against something heated. It was the worst form of torture as once again his voice spoke her name and the sound eddied around her. Not limbo, then, but hell. Tantalized and tormented. She whimpered and heard the noise echo like a small animal, trapped and afraid. Her pathetic struggles were subdued and denied—then soothed. Neira begged…please…noooo… He was gone and how was she to exist like this?

  “Neira. Enough. Your sovereign must insist. I command you to come back to me.”

  Again, she struggled, one arm flailing while her feet shuffled as if swaddled in sand. Please.

  “I have you, little warrior. I have you. You’re safe and in my arms. Let me hold you, keep you warm.”

  Bands of steel imprisoned her yet kept her in place against the directionless drifting, and the warmth was truly delicious. She dared relax infinitesimally and was rewarded with a pleased murmur that ruffled the hair at her temple. A deep breath to ease her angst filled her nostrils with Vayne’s distinct, earthy scent. Startled, she blinked her eyes open.

  Worried turquoise pools fringed with dark lashes stared down at her, drawing her heart and soul from the abyss, and his name flooded up her throat. “Vayne?”

  “I’m here. Here with you, my chosen.” His voice was hoarse with bubbling emotion.

  “Are we dead?” The space was bright and filled with sounds she knew well. Hospital sounds. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his to orient herself.

  A pained chuckle escaped him, and her breasts were compressed as his chest swelled. So close—and skin to skin. “We aren’t dead, Neira. Although we should be, considering what has transpired.”

  “We’re in sick bay,” she guessed.

  “We are. I despaired of you ever waking.”

  That was intriguing. She hadn’t thought she was merely asleep. “We’re naked. In sick bay. And you were dead. I saw you die.” Baraith! Panic welled and only with a huge effort did she keep from flailing about in terror. She couldn’t hurt Vayne.

  “Shh, Neira. Breathe. You’re safe.”

  “But he stabbed you—”

  “And he is dead. I have survived, as have you.” The relief was indescribable to know Baraith was dead.

  She hung on every word as Vayne explained his survival, intensely grateful for the difference in Shadalla physiology. Cautiously, she gained a few inches in distance, pressing backward, and studied his chest.

  “The injury in my back has healed, or nearly so,” he offered, “and this time with no scarring, thanks to having the technology available.”

  “Are you…” She didn’t know how to ask if he was going to be the same or struggle in later life. Heart transplants on the Home World were common if one had the money, and the success rate was very high, but… Not that it mattered. She’d take care of him, see that he took care.

  “I’m fine. Without pain at all now and Stenlor assures me I won’t know the difference once I conclude my recovery period. Unlike my crew member, the loyal hunters, and very nearly Leric. You know the ambassador was also killed. And you evidently saved my life from a traitor who was a Juxtant in disguise.”

  Neira was vastly relieved to hear that Leric would survive, and she spared a thought and a prayer for the dead, aside from Rush and Baraith. She pretended not to hear that her sovereign believed she’d saved him. It was simply too much to handle at the moment. She knew she’d have a private discussion with the medic regardless of Vayne’s reassurances about his health and ruefully conceded she was going to become one of those women, the ones who worried and fussed over their—husbands. Her breathing increased exponentially as she thought the word and Vayne touched a finger to the pulse near her throat, his expression anxious.

  “What is it? Are you dismayed because of that Juxtant?”

  How could she say it? What words should she use? She’d informed Baraith that Vayne was her lifemate, she his chosen, and it had felt totally right in that moment. They were bonded and losing him had nearly killed her. Could she go through that again? Could she not?

  “Neira. Turn to me. Please.”

  She snuggled into him and tucked her head beneath his chin. He stroked her back and she felt his cock harden and fill against her belly.

  “Ignore that,” he muttered. “You have only to touch me and I’m hard.”

  When she spoke, her words were muffled, but he’d said the Shadalla had excellent hearing, and she couldn’t look at him yet. “I can’t imagine life without you. I told…the Juxtant…you were my husband. It was Baraith, Vayne.”

  A finger slipped beneath her chin and he tilted her head back, moving so he could lock gazes. He didn’t look surprised and his words underscored
it. He was so intelligent, her husband, and had clearly been thinking things through while she was drifting in limbo. “You knew it was him. I can only imagine your…yet you prevailed. And you nearly faded when you thought I was lost to you, and you would still claim me as yours? Take that risk again?”

  Forcing a tremulous smile, she nodded. “There’s a price to pay for what you have given me and what you promise, and I’ll pay it.”

  “Is there nothing that can defeat you, little warrior? Not the war, not the loss of family, not that time with the Juxtant and then how your own people treated you? Kidnapped and forced to fight for your life against the very Juxtant who was at the center of it all?” Vayne stared deep into her eyes. “I stand in awe of you, my chosen.”

  “I nearly didn’t come back to you,” she said quietly. “And if you hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have.”

  “Then my prayers weren’t in vain. And rest assured I’ll keep that promise, little warrior. I owe you my life.”

  “And I owe you my soul.”

  ****

  As Neira dropped her head back onto his chest, Vayne’s entire being exploded with joy. Like a beautifully forged blade, his chosen’s bond with him had remained strong and true, regardless of the fact she was human and he was Shadalla. She cared for him so much that she preferred death if she lost him, however, and that would never do. He would give her much to live for, and once blessed with children things would work out differently should he have the misfortune to fade before her. It could indeed be misfortune, for, as sovereign, there were risks and rewards. High profile figures tended to draw attention both positive and negative, but he’d long accepted that fact and guarded against it.

  His joy fizzled at the thought of losing her first, as would most likely happen because of their bodies’ predetermined longevity, and his brain scrambled to compile all the reasons why that might not have to be so. Technology had a way of outstripping mortality. And he couldn’t allow himself to think that way. Neira had withstood so many losses and deserved that he be equally resilient. One must live in the moment and experience everything. The silk of Neira’s body against his own coarser skin reminded him of that point.

  “Sovereign.” Stenlor approached, a scanning device in his hand and information written across his features. At Vayne’s nod he ran the small instrument over Neira and made satisfied sounds. “All vital signs are normal. Slightly elevated body temperature but I expect that’s from—in any event she is fine. As healthy as yourself.”

  Ignoring the flush on the medic’s face, Vayne asked, “And the RNA results?”

  “Sir. I ran them three times against our data base. The Juxtant on our ship was Monarch Baraith.”

  His arms automatically tightened around Neira as the foul name fell from Stenlor’s mouth in an unnecessary yet necessary confirmation. Did she remember that fight to the death or was she lacking in details as he had been when he came back to the land of the living? Vayne wanted to ask her what happened, debrief her, but hesitated when she disregarded the contention she had saved his life. How much could one woman handle?

  Neira wiggled free of his protective grasp, holding the sheet against her breasts as she surveyed Stenlor. “But he’s really dead, right?”

  “Most assuredly, My Lady Sovereign. As you humans say, as a doornail.” The male looked bemused and glanced at Vayne.

  “I just wasn’t sure he would die because I blacked out when he—” She bit off her next words and looked away from him.

  “Stenlor told me what he did to you. And what you did to him.” Grim satisfaction colored his tone as he voiced the latter.

  “As long as he’s gone. He seemed…immortal. I didn’t want him to somehow gain control of the Tomodr. And he had to pay for what he did to you.”

  Vayne waved Stenlor away and lowered his voice for her ears alone. “I do owe you my life, little warrior. Again, I stand in awe. And you faced your worst nightmare.”

  “And won,” she said grimly, again clearly disregarding how indebted he was to her, but he’d ensure she never regretted it.

  “I understand he…that is to say, Baraith had been altered to resemble me.”

  “Don’t you say that. Don’t you ever say that,” she said, so fiercely the strong resemblance to a leicat was highly pronounced. “He is nothing like you. Nothing.”

  He soothed her, stroking over her back and arms until she settled. “We have come full circle, Neira. I have my beloved chosen, and other Shadalla males can follow my lead, now that we understand the opportunities.”

  “And no more stealing women.” There was total inflexibility in that statement.

  “No more stealing women,” he agreed. “Although I’d do it again if it meant finding you.”

  Neira said nothing. Last word. Vayne smiled to himself.

  Epilogue

  Neira crept down the hall toward the room she and Vayne shared for sleeping—and other, more pleasurable pursuits. He denied her nothing, except this. He insisted on their own personal space, one that the children weren’t allowed to breach, despite how she often longed to welcome them here. Perhaps when they were older, she mused, even though it was unlikely. Her sovereign loved his offspring with a depth of emotion she recognized, because he loved her with the same intensity, but he’d drawn the boundary and she’d respect it. His need for her was huge and never flagged.

  Nibiru was now her home, and the house she shared with Vayne and their children, along with an astonishing number of primarily male Shadalla, was everything she could have hoped for. The city itself was clean and all the buildings well constructed from stone from the local quarries. The air quality was far better than that on the Home World, and the Shadalla were eons ahead in their respect for the environment. The countryside was peppered with efficient farming enterprises, and the factories were under stringent environmental controls. The Shadalla insisted on being self-sufficient in all matters—the result of near genocide. Some trade was allowed but only items that were deemed a necessity and couldn’t be produced on Nibiru. Change was carefully considered and took a very long time.

  Pausing for a moment to peer out the window in the hallway, she studied the rolling landscape, quite similar to that of her planet of birth, illuminated by Nibiru’s two moons. The golden glow was shot with silver and she could make out the movements of the guards among the gardens. There were risks and dangers even here, but Neira couldn’t find it in herself to worry. Vayne carried that burden willingly and she trusted in him to protect his own. She had other things to deal with and appreciated how they split the responsibilities. The learning curve was still steep but it never felt insurmountable, and while she and Vayne butted heads often enough, they always worked things out.

  Nibiru was indeed a planet sadly empty of the calls and laughter of children, and a lack of females, something that would hopefully change over the next few decades. She and Vayne had made a start on that, as had the other couples from the Tomodr. Victoria had two little ones, and Sheera and Alondra were each expecting their second child. The rest of the women were already placed with lifemates and most of them were breeding. Funny how that concept didn’t bother Neira anymore. It was hard to get worked up over something so natural when one’s every need, desire and wish was immediately granted, and she hoped that never got old as more human women came to Nibiru to stay. Most of the male Shadalla she’d met were like Vayne—intensely dominant and no fool—and surely the depth of commitment would serve to eliminate a bond based on avarice.

  Her feet were cold and she regretted not finding her slippers before moving quietly away to the nursery. She wore a nightgown because while Vayne insisted she remain uncovered in their bedroom, he wasn’t inclined to let his entourage see her in that state. Her lips curved at his possessiveness and she hurried into their room.

  “Are they asleep?” His deep voice startled her, not that she didn’t expect him to be awake.

  “They are. And hopefully for the night.”

  “We
have their caregivers to tend to them, Neira.”

  It was the same discussion each and every time the triplets woke and called for her—or him. And each and every time one of them got up and took care of whatever reasons the children were awake. In fact, she knew he’d been hovering just out of sight while she soothed Alexi’s childish bad dream and kissed his tears away, grateful the youngest triplet’s cries hadn’t woken Anika or Bella.

  “I know we do. But I want to do it. As do you,” she accused, climbing back into bed and putting her cold feet on his leg.

  He manufactured a shudder, although she knew he barely felt the chill, and yanked her against him. Her sensitive breasts responded and her sex dampened at the feel of his solid cock flirting at the apex of her thighs. “I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”

  “Hah. I’m waited on hand and foot. The occasional jaunt down the hall to the nursery won’t wear me out. You’re the one with a full schedule, ruling the planet.” Organizing the screening and visitations of all the human women that Nibiru hosted was only part of his duties. “Yet you don’t ignore the children.”

  She’d been astonished by how fulfilling the role of his lifemate and mother of his offspring, punctuated with appearances of political necessity and addressing those human women as she’d previously offered, was enough for her. And Vayne’s gratitude was the only praise she required.

  Exploring had been possible, and accompanied by Victoria, Sheera and Alondra—plus twenty or so trusted guards— they’d wandered at will. All the wives had followed their husband’s edict that they cover themselves. None of the women had balked, aware of the simmering need of those Shadalla males on the streets of the city, the ones with no military training to instill exemplary self-control. Neira hoped all of them found their chosen, but it would take time. Perhaps even the belief it was possible would soon ease the desperation. Then there would be another sense of freedom for the females here.