by Abella Ward
“Hyrak never liked me, so he branded me and locked me up at the Grim Fort. It was a death sentence. And since you are my mate, he wanted you dead, too . . . And here I thought I was lucky to have survived the plague,” Rydel said bleakly and started coughing as pain tore at his bones.
“Branded you? I don’t understand,” she said, anxiety lacing her soft voice.
Rydel pulled back his collar and tilted his head. She winced as she saw the dark shape, a burnt scar, deep with black veins snaking outward.
“Why didn’t the doctor heal this?” Tara asked, eyes wide with shock.
“They branded me with an ancient wand . . . Dark magic is at work here. The drugs . . . won’t work.” His breathing was shallow.
“Are you saying there’s no way to cure this?” Tara whispered incredulously. Did that mean he was dying? Why did that hurt so much?
He shook his head. “The poison . . . is spreading . . . I may not have time . . . ” He gazed at her with a longing so intense that it broke her heart. “I . . . I’m sorry, Tara . . . ”
“No . . . No!” Tara sobbed, punching him in the chest. “You are not leaving me like this.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Listen to me, Tara,” he said with a lot of effort. “I promised you I would get your face back . . . So, when we get to the Station . . . we . . . go straight to the sick bay,” he said, gasping. He didn’t look well, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Rydel, please . . . ” Tara began, sobbing. “There must be another way.”
“And you are free . . . I . . . I . . . I know a beautiful place . . . You . . . you can go there and settle down . . . in your new home. I . . . I’ll take you there myself,” he started coughing again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him.
“No . . . I’m staying with you,” she said, her face contorted as tears streamed down her cheeks. She placed a hand on his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. “My home is where you are. There is no other place for me. I love you.”
He cupped her neck and pulled her close, crushing his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss, tasting her tears. She moaned, her fingers in his hair, kneading it. Desire like hot molten lava moved deep inside her and set his blood on fire.
He pulled back and she saw his eyes were a dark sea of blue. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, panting.
“Rydel, let’s get you to the healing chamber,” Tara said, getting off his lap.
He nodded. “To the sickbay, then.”
Rydel lay on his back on the bed in the healing chamber. Gyree made the essential scans as Tara instructed the computer to give him painkillers.
He took Tara’s hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers as he gazed deep into her eyes. She could see his body relax as his eyes glazed over. She leaned over and rested her head against his bare chest. He placed his other arm over her shoulder. In the next few seconds, he drifted into unconsciousness. She could hear his heartbeat and found its rhythm soothing – a pleasant melody.
She couldn’t stop the tears. They kept flowing as she lay there listening to his beating heart. She wished his heart would keep beating . . . Please, please, please let him live, she prayed. No, she wouldn’t let him die like this. Not now. There must be some way to undo the curse.
She suddenly sat upright. The Scroll and that stone. They both worked through magic. She was making a wild guess, but she had to try.
Tara got up and ran outside toward the control room.
“Gyree, let me in,” she said as she reached the doors.
The doors hissed open and she entered, her eyes scanning the room. There, by the Commander’s seat, lay Rydel’s satchel. She remembered that Rydel said the Scroll revealed secrets. And even the stone could give her answers.
She quickly bent down on her knees and opened it. She pulled out the ancient parchment and unrolled it. Skimming through it, she found nothing new. She sighed, her hopes dampening a little, and put it back. She carefully picked up the stone and held it in both hands, cradling it.
The blue stone was smooth and felt oddly warm. Tara peered at it closely, eyes narrowed, and thought she saw something move inside. Blinking, she kept staring at it for a while when the vision hit her. It took only a few minutes. Tara’s eyes snapped open as she gasped, and the stone slipped from her hands, dropping to the floor, as it rolled a few feet away. She was trembling, but she had seen it. She had the Svix inside her – the essence of life. She could heal him.
Still shaking from the impact of the vision, she took a deep breath and, picking up the stone, she put it back inside the satchel. Then she looked around and searched for Rydel’s dagger. It lay on the table along with his gun and traveling cloak. She picked it up and took it out from its scabbard. The blade glinted in the light, cold and lethal.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she sheathed it and quickly made her way toward the healing chamber, taking the bag with her.
***
Tara stood beside Rydel and gazed at him, dagger in hand. His skin looked pale and clammy, dark hair matted to his forehead and his breathing was shallow.
With the help of Gyree, she had sterilized the dagger by placing it in a small tray. It only took a few minutes as the particles disinfected it.
Taking a deep breath, she made a gash across her palm, drawing blood. Leaning over Rydel, she cupped his chin, tilting his face up as his mouth fell open. She then held her fist over his mouth and let a few drops of blood fall inside.
Tara waited as her heart drummed against her chest . . . She waited for the blood to flow down his throat. She waited with tears in her eyes as Rydel lay still as death, a shuddering breath the only sign of life.
Please, please, please . . . She prayed and took his hand in hers.
And then, suddenly, he coughed as if choking. His eyes snapped open. He gasped for air, and then his breathing became better. She squeezed his hand and smoothed his hair back from his face. Confusion flitted across his eyes as he saw her there.
“Rydel?” Tara said softly. Her tears just wouldn’t stop. “Rydel . . . Say something,” she said, holding his hand tight as the blood from her gash dripped from in between their hold. “You will be fine . . . The stone showed me the Svix . . . My blood healed you,” she said talking fast. He saw relief and fervent longing in those big warm eyes. Longing for him.
He glanced at both their hands locked together. “It’s beautiful . . . ” He said gazing at her.
“What?” she stopped talking confused.
“The color of your blood,” he said in that low deep voice of his.
“Oh . . . ” she laughed through salty tears. She unlocked her hand from his and gazed it.
“Thank you, my love . . . ” he said gently and pulled her into his arms, as his mouth found hers, claiming her fervently.
A while later, he pulled away. “Gyree? Fix Ms. Dawson’s hand right now,” he ordered.
Yes, Commander . . .
The Commander was back. The Klai healed fast. She smiled as Rydel pulled her close for another kiss.
Epilogue
One year later . . .
Tara gazed into the distance at nothing in particular. She loved gazing at the misty purple mountains with their snow-covered peaks, the wind rippling through the vast field of wildflowers and tall grass. She picked the lavender and blue flowers, twisting their stems into a bouquet. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of wildflowers that the warm, balmy wind brought with it. She sat amid the tall grass and flowers, her legs tucked beneath her.
Rydel came toward her, carrying a basket with fruits, berries, and wine. He stopped short, gazing at her as his breath hitched.
It had been more than six months since they returned from the Station and found a home on a small planet. Without the burns and scars, she was really beautiful. He kept staring at her beautiful face: her delicate lips, small nose, and big eyes . . . Her long soft hair fell around her now smooth features, and her ivory skin almost glowed in the warm sunlight.
She seemed so peaceful, ethereal, as she sat there amid the wildflowers, wearing only a soft shimmery white gown that accentuated her breasts and the growing belly that carried their child. His heart went out to her as he came forward and, setting the basket down, sat down beside her. He kissed her neck and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She smiled and opened her eyes. She turned and gazed at him, her smile making his heart beat faster. He knew she loved it here – adored this world the moment he had brought her there. The planet was dominated by humans. They were the first ones to settle, along with other races that co-existed with them. The climate was a healthy one for humans.
Tara saw the warmth in his blue eyes and her heart melted. He looked at her as though she was the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy. She still couldn’t believe this was the same man she had so much despised. She thought she could never like the Klai, let alone fall for one. And still, she had. He had proven her wrong. He was her true mate, and he loved her more than his own life. And when he looked at her, he saw right through her. He saw her soul, fragile and broken. A soul that needed love and kindness to heal its shattered pieces. And he had healed her . . . had made her whole again. And she couldn’t have asked for anything more.
*****
THE END
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Abella Ward
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Specially Selected Bonus Content
Caged by the Barbarian
Description
I am the prize in a cruel game. And these barbarians are killing each other to win me
What is Bond, warlord of the T’Shav, supposed to do when the woman to play the Goddess in the Fifth Cycle Festival turns out to be his mate? Throw himself into the arena of course, cutting down his competitors with savage joy. This woman belongs to him.
Lieutenant Sara O’Neill has one big secret: she’s human. After hiding her humanity her entire life, she is caged as the prize in a deadly, bloody game. She’ll be owned by the winner, his to do with whatever he pleases. Usually, that means being killed and eaten.
There’s no way that she’ll want this brute with his violent tendencies. Until she does.
But Bond has a mission to complete and he won’t be distracted. Yeah, right. That’s not happening when he’s stuck on a small spaceship with a curvy, delicious human.
Turns out someone’s out to claim her and his unborn young. Doesn’t the enemy know what happens when they get on Bond’s nerve?
Forced together, Bond and Sara have to fight the odds, focus on the mission and keep their hands off each other. Let’s see if they succeed... at that last part at least.
Chapter One: Sara
The controls shook in Lieutenant Sara O'Neill’s hands as she fought to keep the ship on course. The sudden pressure shift of entering the atmosphere caused it to buck from side to side. If she didn't keep its nose down, streamlined, she'd end up among the ash orbiting the planet. Her teeth clenched as the bright greens and blues of the planet's surface rushed towards her in the view screen.
"Ozone layer cleared," her computer coolly informed her.
Sara yanked on the controls, flipping the engines from forward to reverse thrust. It was a maneuver guaranteed to shut them off immediately in atmospheric conditions. The ship jerked and the hum of her engines cut out. Good. The engines were too powerful to be this close to the planet's surface; they'd propel her deep under the planet's exterior.
The smaller thrusters were already on. Sara reached out to either side, manipulating levers to slow her descent. She operated this stupid ship comfortably with two people, but in most situations required more. The ship she had wanted to buy would have been much easier to handle on her own.
Damn payroll cuts, Sara thought furiously as the control panel lit up, warning her of the imminent collision.
A string of curses flew out of Sara's mouth as she lowered the landing gear. If this didn't work, she'd end up a smear on the planet's surface – an example of what not to do when the Corps trained next year's students.
"Impact in ten seconds," the computer said. "Ten."
Sara threw the thrusters on full blast, flinching when the whole ship shuddered. Screeching metal tore at her ears.
"Nine."
The lights flickered.
"Eight."
"Come on," Sara hissed. She was still going way too fast.
"Seven."
She abandoned the flight controls and rushed to cargo and disposal.
"Six."
Sara's hands flew over a panel, opening up the garbage and waste ports.
"Five."
"Activate emergency waste expulsion," she shouted.
The propulsion of waste from the ports jerked the ship upright, throwing Sara to the ground. The control panels sparked and several rivets popped overhead. She curled into the fetal position as loose items were thrown all about. A solid thud had her rolling across the floor, trying to brace herself against the walls.
"Landing complete," the computer said.
Sara waited a moment to let the chairs stop rolling before she stood. Another curse escaped her as she took in the damage. Black scorch marks pocked the controls, and more than one lever looked like it had melted into place. So, the controls were fried and, no doubt, the thrusters were shot after that. At least she was in one piece. She put a hand to her chest, her heart pounding, and let out a shaky laugh.
"Shall I give you a damage assessment?" the computer asked.
"Nah, not right now. What's around here? I want to make sure I haven't dropped into Munchkin land and squashed their mayor. Or the Wicked Witch of the West. I'm in no mood for quests..."
There was a brief pause. "There appears to be a temporary encampment with vessels faster than the speed of light nearby. Would you like a map?"
Sara shook her head. "They'll find me. I'd like to stay safe inside here until I know whether they're friendly or not."
The computer didn't respond to that. Not that that was surprising. These older models were programmed to be functional, not friendly. The new Soundbolts had a computer that would congratulate you on your singing skills, but this rust bucket interacted at the bare minimum. It made for a very arduous journey between the stars.
It was all she could afford on her salary, though, and there was no way in Satan's menstrual cramps that she was staying on the Corps base she was assigned to. The space station orbited a backwater moon and she needed some excitement. That was why she had taken off to the aptly-named Planet Adventure, which was basically Disneyland, only a gazillion times bigger. Sara had blown all her savings on the two-week stay. She had thought it was worth it until her engine cut out over this planet.
"Hey, where are we, anyway?"
"Rozaist, Hockorn system."
Rozaist? Sara shook her head. This was a planet where the religious crazies went. Not that she had anything against believers, but mass hordes of rioters demanding opposite-species relationships be made illegal set her teeth on edge. Rozaist wasn't part of the United Species, though, and as such was fair game to anybody who wanted a piece of it. The Corps was occasionally called to settle squabbles here, but they didn't technically have any jurisdiction. More often than not, it was one warlord or another who offered the planet 'protection' and implemented their own sort of justice. Hopefully, her position in the Corps would give her some protection against the locals.
That thought flew out the window when the lights went out. The displays shut down and Sara found herself in utter silence. Even the usual hum of air circulation had stopped. She sat, bewildered, for a moment, but the ans
wer came to her quickly.
Pirates.
With a curse, she drew her issued blaster gun and turned on the built-in light that she insisted on adding, despite her colleagues' scoffs. It was an old habit, leftover from her days back on Earth, before she ended up out here.
Don't think about that, Sara told herself harshly. Earth is gone.
She found herself a defensible position and hunkered down, adjusting her bionic eyes to register heat signatures. Five of them lurked just outside the ship. There was a wheezing noise, the sound of air being released. Too late Sara realized that the air vents were active again, pumping in a gas of some sort. Her head swam, bright lights flashing across her vision, and she slumped to the floor.
Don't let them find out I'm human.
***
Light stabbed into her eyes when she woke, but the bionics adjusted so quickly that Sara only had a brief moment of discomfort. The first thing she noticed was that she was still wearing her uniform. Good. Then she hadn't been taken by slavers to be auctioned off at the market. If she had been, they would have either stripped her bare or put her in provocative clothing.
Her curvy, muscular build and thick waist were considered beautiful for women out here, despite the ideal for men being stick-thin. If she wanted to, she could have been a model or actress – any number of things. But she was a military girl. It was all she knew in her life before coming to the stars and all she wanted now.
The lieutenant glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a cage with bars made of flickering blue energy, separating her from an office of sorts. Shelves filled with trinkets that ranged from glowing stones to taxidermy animals ringed the space. The walls were covered in a chevron pattern.
