Gryke: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 6)

by Ditter Kellen

  Gryke stayed in the pool long after he’d finished his bath. He couldn’t get the image of a naked Fiona out of his mind.

  He’d caught a glimpse of her beautiful breasts before she’d covered them with her arms.

  She was perfection, equipped with a sensuality he doubted any man could resist.

  But she cannot be trusted, his mind whispered as he stepped from the pool and strode to the stone racks along the wall to retrieve a towel.

  Plucking one of the colorful bundles of material from the shelf, he lifted it to his nose. Abbie had to be responsible for the human cloth he now used to dry his body. The Bracadytes had always used sharkskin before the land walkers had infiltrated his home.

  It wasn’t that Gryke didn’t like Hauke’s mate or that he resented her being there. But the presence of humans in Aukrabah meant change for the Bracadytes. And Gryke had never been keen on change.

  He pulled on his clothes and trailed off toward the door, intent on going back to his apartment and falling into a blissful sleep. King Klause would want to question Fiona on the morrow, and Gryke was determined to be present for the accounting she would give.

  Fiona’s room came into view a minute later. Gryke told himself to keep walking, to shut her out and save himself the grief of seeing her again.

  His feet came to a stop against his will.

  Going against everything his head screamed for him not to do, Gryke allowed his curiosity to override his common sense. He stepped inside the foyer.

  Sounds of even breathing came from the bedroom, telling Gryke that at least one person slept.

  He crept quietly forward, slowing his steps as he reached the bedroom door.

  His heartbeat kicked up a notch as Fiona’s sleeping form came into view. She looked so innocent and fragile, lying on her back with her arm thrown over her forehead.

  Unable to help himself, Gryke moved around the bed and stared down at her.

  Her mouth was slightly open, accenting the full softness of her lips—lips that he wanted to taste.

  He lowered to his knees and eased forward until his nose rested next to her cheek. He slowly breathed her in.

  Gryke’s eyes briefly closed in ecstasy as her sweet scent traveled up his nose and straight to his now throbbing sex. He wanted her.

  Fighting back a growl, Gryke surged to his feet and stormed toward the archway that would lead into the foyer. He tripped on Fiona’s bag, stubbing his toe on the stone leg of a chair.

  A hiss slipped past his parted lips as pain splintered through his foot and shot up his leg.

  “Gryke?” Fiona’s sleep-filled voiced slurred from behind him.

  Angry with himself—with her—with the entire situation, Gryke strode from the room without a word.

  Damn her, as the humans would say, for making him want her. He’d made a fool out of himself just now, and there was nothing he could do but get as far away from her as he could.

  She was no doubt laughing at him, smug in the knowledge that he’d been caught lusting for her while she slept.

  Barging into his own room, Gryke practically ripped off his damp clothing on the way to his bed.

  He jerked the covers back and dropped heavily onto the sand-filled mattress. What had come over him? Fiona was not only human, but she had intelligence, beauty, and had to be one of the bravest females he’d ever known.

  Though it angered Gryke that she hadn’t come to him to begin with, he understood her reasons for taking the scrolls. He also understood the CIA’s need to send her to liaise with the Bracadytes. So why then, did he feel such anger toward her?

  “Gryke?”

  He had to be imagining Fiona’s voice. She wouldn’t actually be standing in his room.

  Turning his head toward the doorway to his bedroom, Gryke came face to face with Fiona.

  He wanted to snarl at her, to demand she leave and never come back. Her name came out on a whisper instead.

  She moved in closer, her hands fidgeting. “You were watching me.” It wasn’t a question.

  Gryke sat up, pulling the cover over his lap to hide his obvious erection. “I was merely making sure that you were not wandering the halls, taking things that do not belong to you.”

  Fiona flinched as if slapped. “I see. I will be gone as soon as Brant is able to travel. You won’t have to worry about me any longer.”

  If he lived a thousand years, Gryke would always wonder why he let her go, why he didn’t run after her the second she turned back toward the door.

  He felt her absence like a knife to his gut. In the few short weeks that he’d known her, she’d managed to burrow her way into his mind…into his heart.

  With a growl of frustration, Gryke dropped heavily onto his back. Fiona Henagar was an anomaly. A mother, a warrior, a fierce lion protecting what was hers. And Gryke wanted her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fiona set the table for Andrew and herself before setting about to making a plate for Brant.

  She’d been back in Aukrabah for three days while waiting for her brother to heal.

  The interrogation she’d endured by King Klause had gone better than she’d expected. Though obviously angry, the king showed compassion, stating that he understood her plight, but not her plan. Had she only come to him to begin with, he could have sent Gryke and Zaureth with her, thereby eliminating Jefferies without the need for weapons.

  Fiona had apologized profusely to Amy for hitting her over the head, relieved when the young blind girl held no hard feelings. Zaureth, on the other hand, had taken a little longer to extract forgiveness from. He’d eventually relented after a day or two.

  Gryke, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken to Fiona since the night she’d awoken to find him sniffing at her face while she slept. She’d feigned sleep, curious as to his intentions, until he’d tangled himself in her bag on the floor.

  Heat traveled up her neck as she recalled his surprise and anger at her showing up in his room. He’d rejected her.

  Fiona had been more than mortified by the rejection. She’d read him wrong. He hadn’t been in her room because he wanted her. He was there simply out of curiosity.

  “Are you going to eat?” Andrew asked, pulling Fiona out of her embarrassing memories.

  She glanced at the pancakes she’d made for herself, and her stomach growled. “I sure am. You go ahead and get started. I’m going to take Brant his plate.”

  Andrew bowed his head and folded his hands beneath his chin. “Dear God, thank you for this food, for Mommy and Uncle Brant. And thank you for Mister Gryke. Amen.”

  Fiona’s heart twisted at Andrew’s words. His sweet innocence was the most precious thing in the world. The longer she stayed in Aukrabah, the higher the chances were of Andrew being hurt when they left.

  Andrew had grown an attachment to Gryke. And though the giant Bracadyte ignored Fiona, he spent quite a bit of time with her son.

  Shaking off her thoughts, she picked up Brant’s plate and carried it into the bedroom. “I hope you’re hungry?”

  “I’m starved,” he replied, attempting to sit up in bed.

  Though the skin surrounding his eyes remained discolored, the swelling had gone down enough so he could see through them.

  “You don’t have to wait on me, Fiona. I’m a grown man. I can make my own food.”

  Fiona gifted him with a small smile. “Oh, hush. You can’t even get out of bed without help. Besides, you would do the same for me.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” he teased, accepting the plate she offered. “This smells terrific.”

  “It was either pancakes or fish.”

  Brant attempted a laugh that ended up as a groan. “You made the right choice.”

  Setting his water down on the bedside table, Fiona took a seat in the chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “A lot better,” he murmured between bites. “My ribs hurt like hell, but my head is clear.”

  “Zaureth helped with that. He’s amazing.”
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  Brant lowered his fork and met Fiona’s gaze. “I’d heard about these aliens on the news and in the papers, but I would have never imagined being down here amongst them. They’re quite fascinating.”

  “Some of them are,” Fiona relented. “But I can think of one that’s more psychotic than anything.”

  “Let me guess,” Brant teased with a grin. “The one sporting a beard and tattoo?”

  Fiona stood. “The very one. I’m going to eat with Andrew. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  “All I need is a shower. I stink to high heaven.”

  “I’ll help you as soon as you’ve eaten,” Fiona quipped, chuckling as she trailed back to the table to join Andrew.

  Andrew pushed his empty plate back. “I’m done. Can I go see Mister Gryke now?”

  “May I,” Fiona corrected. “And I’m sure Gryke is busy, son. Maybe you should—”

  “The boy is fine,” Gryke announced from the doorway. “I came to teach him how to swim.”

  Fiona’s heart turned over. “In the gulf?”

  Gryke lifted an eyebrow. “No. In the Pool of Enlightenment.”

  “Can I, please, Mommy?”

  “May I, please. And only if you promise to stay by Gryke’s side. Do not, for any reason, wander off.”

  Andrew jumped down from his chair and eagerly rounded the table. He grabbed onto Gryke’s huge hand.

  Gryke bent and lifted him into his arms, glancing in Fiona’s direction. “How is your brother?”

  “He’s doing much better, thanks to Zaureth. How long will you be gone?”

  Gryke shrugged. “As long as it takes. If the boy is to be here for any length of time, he might as well learn to swim.”

  “He’s not going to be here long,” Fiona stated, shifting to her other foot. “We’ll be leaving in a day or two.”

  Something flickered in Gryke’s eyes. “I see. Where will you go? Jefferies is still out there.”

  Fiona was more than aware of the threat of Jefferies. “Somewhere far away, where Doug will never find us.”

  Gryke’s jaw hardened. “The borders are closed, Fiona. You risk much by leaving here.”

  “Are you asking me to stay?”

  Spinning on his heels, Gryke left without bothering to respond.

  “That’s what I thought…”

  “You have to be blind not to see that he cares about you,” Brant called out from the bedroom.

  Fiona picked up her plate of now cold pancakes and carried it into the room where her brother lay.

  She took a seat at the small table next to the bed. “He doesn’t care about anything but himself.”

  “So he’s going to teach Andrew to swim out of boredom?”

  “I don’t know what he’s doing it for,” Fiona insisted. “It certainly isn’t because of me.”

  Brant studied her for long moments. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never taken you for a fool. Until now.”

  Fiona paused with a forkful of pancake near her mouth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Brant. He can barely stand to look at me.”

  “That’s why he lingers outside the door every night while you sleep? Because he can barely stand to look at you?”

  The fork Fiona held fell from her fingers to clatter against her plate. “How do you know this?”

  “I know more than you think I do.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Gryke wrapped a towel around Andrew’s tiny frame and lifted him into his arms. He wasn’t sure why he was drawn to the child. Perhaps Andrew reminded Gryke of himself as a lad. They’d both lost a parent at a young age.

  Gryke hadn’t needed or wanted friends growing up. Yet he’d ended up with Braum. Braum had inserted himself into Gryke’s life at a young age, leaving him little choice but to tolerate his new female-chasing friend.

  Over the years, Gryke had come to care for Braum and considered him the brother he never had.

  He glanced down at the top of Andrew’s head. “Do you ever wish for siblings?”

  “Siblings?” Andrew repeated, a small indention between his brows.

  Gryke fought a smile. “Brothers and sisters.”

  Andrew shrugged. “Sometimes. But my daddy went to heaven, so I guess I won’t ever have any.”

  Jealousy was swift. Gryke picked up the half-dry child and trailed off down the halls toward the food pantry.

  Angry with himself for feeling jealousy over a dead man, Gryke’s voice came out harsher than he’d intended. “Are you hungry?”

  Andrew lifted his gaze. “Are you mad at me, Mister Gryke?”

  Gryke’s heart squeezed in his chest. “No, Andrew. I could never be angry with you.”

  Obviously convinced that Gryke spoke the truth, Andrew pointed to a box of macaroni and cheese.

  Gryke plucked the box from the food pantry shelf and turned toward the door. “I do not know how this is supposed to be prepared. But I bet your mother will.”

  “Are you going to eat with us, Mister Gryke?”

  Pausing at the door to the pantry, Gryke spun around and grabbed another box of the macaroni and cheese. “If your mother does not mind.”

  “She won’t.” Andrew beamed, glancing at the side of Gryke’s head. “Why are your ears pointy?”

  “Why are yours not?” Gryke countered with a grin.

  Andrew chuckled. “I’ve never seen pointy ears before.”

  “I believe the correct term is pointed. And I was born this way. All Bracadytes are.”

  “How come you don’t have any kids?”

  Gryke’s steps faltered. He glanced down at Andrew’s face, taking in the sincerity of the child’s question.

  “Because I do not have a mate.”

  Andrew blinked up at him. “What’s a mate?”

  “It is someone that you are bonded with; someone you spend your life with and love unconditionally.”

  “Like my mommy and daddy. My daddy was my mommy’s mate.”

  Another bout of jealousy slammed into Gryke. Keeping his expression as blank as possible, he nodded. “Just like your mommy and daddy.”

  It irked Gryke to voice the words aloud. He wanted to growl and deny that Andrew’s father had been Fiona’s mate. But why?

  “May I come in?” Gryke called, stopping in front of Fiona’s door.

  She waved him inside, holding a finger to her lips. “Brant just went back to sleep.”

  Gryke handed her the two boxes of macaroni and cheese before setting Andrew on his feet.

  Fiona’s face took on a curious look. “What is this for?”

  “The boy is hungry,” Gryke responded, taking a seat at the table.

  Andrew climbed up into his lap. “Can Mister Gryke eat with us?”

  Fiona suddenly appeared uncomfortable. “May Mister Gryke eat with us. And of course.”

  Gryke watched her move about in the small kitchen area. “Are you certain? If you do not want me here—”

  “It’s fine,” Fiona interrupted. “I made a trip to the food pantry while you were teaching Andrew to swim. I picked up some cooking oil, cornmeal, and a can of baked beans to go with the grouper that Mallory brought me. The macaroni will go perfect with it.”

  Fiona busied herself around the kitchen, avoiding Gryke’s gaze. “How did the swimming lesson go?”

  “It went well,” Gryke murmured, watching her every step. “The boy is a natural swimmer.”

  A smile touched Fiona’s lips. “He got that from me. His father wasn’t the best swimmer in the military. How he made it through basic training is beyond me.”

  Gryke ground his teeth. Why did the mention of Fiona’s dead mate bother him so? Husband, Gryke silently corrected. He didn’t want to think of the guy as Fiona’s mate.

  “Andrew resembles Billy a lot. He got his dark hair from him.”

  So, the dead husband’s name was Billy. “But the beautiful golden color of his eyes came from you.”

  Fiona appeared flustered. “Thank you
.”

  Clearing her throat, Fiona nodded toward a stack of boxes in the corner. “Mallory brought some board games over for Andrew to play with. Would you—”

  “Doctor!” Andrew squealed, effectively cutting off the rest of Fiona’s words.

  He slid from Gryke’s lap and rushed to the corner to pull the box free. “Will you play with me, Mister Gryke?”

  It was Gryke’s turn to grow uncomfortable. He had no clue how to work a board game named Doctor. “I do not know how this is done.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” Andrew insisted, carrying the game over to the table. He laid it on the flat surface and pulled back the lid.

  Gryke took in the game’s contents with a furrowed brow, paying close attention to Andrew as he explained the rules.

  With a nod, he met Fiona’s gaze. “This should be interesting.”

  The next half hour was spent in several frustrated attempts to remove small bones without touching the sides of the tiny, bald man attached to the game’s board. Gryke’s large hands made it virtually impossible.

  Andrew’s laugh became infectious as Gryke set off the buzzer yet again.

  He found himself smiling at the child’s enthusiasm. “I fear my hands are too large for your game.”

  Another round of childish giggles burst from the small boy.

  Gryke glanced up in time to catch Fiona staring at him with a strange look on her face.

  “Is something wrong?” he questioned, studying her expression.

  Fiona spun back toward the food she’d been working on, but not before Gryke noticed the flicker of emotion in her eyes. “No, of course not. It’s just good to see Andrew happy.”

  Gryke’s chest grew tight with an emotion of his own. One that had nothing to do with anger or resentment, and everything to do with the two humans in his presence.

  Clearing his throat, Gryke peeled his gaze away from Fiona’s tense back and returned his attention to the task at hand…lifting the infuriatingly tiny bones from the belly of the bald man.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fiona stirred the food, taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm her emotions. It took an enormous amount of willpower to hold back the tears threatening to surface.