by Kate Rudolph
A small table unfolded along with two chairs gave them a decent sitting area where Dru and Laurel placed their plates. Dru tried not to stare as Laurel took her first bites, but it was a losing proposition. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she lifted her spoon to her mouth, but once she tried the food, her expression cleared into something like surprise. She took a deep swallow and their eyes locked. “This actually isn’t that bad.”
Triumph surged within him, but Dru tried to keep it to a single smile. “Not the first time I’ve had to survive on meal bars like this.”
“Really? You have a lot of experience with these things?” She glanced down at her glop and then back up at him, wincing. They both knew there was a giant chasm between not that bad and actually good.
“More than I’d like,” Dru said. Meal replacement bars like this were standard fare on missions he undertook as a warrior of the Detyen Legion. They provided all of the calories and nutrients he and his fellow soldiers needed to survive, but taste was a luxury they could do without.
“What were you before we met?” Laurel raised her spoon for another bite, but winced before he met her lips and lowered the utensil, letting her eyes drift shut for a moment.
Dru almost reached for her, but he was trying to keep those instincts in check. He needed to keep his desire to claim her under control, and touching her did not help.
Laurel’s eyes fluttered open and she offered a wan smile. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a headache from all the excitement.”
Excitement or injury? Dru wanted to press. He realized now that Laurel had never actually said that she was fully recovered, he only assumed it because she’d finally come to him. But had she come because of that or because she knew that Brakley Varrow had plans to hurt Dru’s people?
His denya was able to read all of those doubts on his face without him needing to say anything. “Seriously,” she insisted. “Humans get headaches. It’s normal.”
If she said this was a normal headache, he forced himself to believe her. Even if he wanted to insist that Laurel curl up in one of the bunks and rest. He could not treat her like some sort of fragile possession. She was a strong woman, and she deserved all of the respect that went along with that. “I’m a warrior of the Detyen Legion. A defender of my people.”
Laurel took a bite of her food and then another, eating so quickly that the taste must not have bothered her. “Brakley said that there aren’t too many of you left?”
Dru’s hands curled into a fist and he growled at the sound of that monster’s name on his mate’s tongue. “Don’t say his name.” It came out harsh and Laurel flinched.
“Sorry,” she muttered, staring at her meal, refusing to look at him.
Dru deflated. How was he going to prove himself to her if he couldn’t keep his temper in check? “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scowl. But that man’s name is something that will live on in my nightmares for the rest of my life.” Dru owed Laurel that moment of vulnerability, even if it made him feel weak to admit the effect that Varrow had on him. He was going to kill the man, there was no question of that, but he doubted even the most vicious death would be enough to do away with all the damage that had already been done. “It’s true that Detyens are rare. I am one of the last survivors of my people. One hundred years ago, my home planet was destroyed. I’m a descendent of the only military survivors. Where once they were billions of us, now we number only in the thousands, and we have dedicated ourselves to hunting down those who tried to destroy us. We can’t change what they did, but we can get justice. It’s all we have left.”
Laurel crossed her arms and shot him a skeptical look. Maybe she’d heard the story before, or maybe his harsh tone had cooled any of the warmer feelings that she’d had for him. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Not well.” A hundred years and there was nothing to show for it except dwindling numbers and dying hope. No, that wasn’t quite all. “Before I was taken, before the attack on HQ, one of our teams came back home. The ones who rescued you. I think they found something, I don’t know what, but I hope...”
Everything had happened so fast after Raze, Kayde, and Toran showed up with more than a dozen human women in tow. Dru couldn’t remember any report that had come out of their mission, but there had been whispers, rumors, and those were echoing around in his mind, not a clear picture, not something he could explain, but for the first time in so long there had been a hope of a lead. Hope that they might find the people responsible for the destruction of Detya and manage some kind of retaliation.
“I can’t even imagine that.” Some of the ice in Laurel’s voice had thawed and she leaned back in her chair, shoulders slumped.
Dru didn’t want to bring down the mood with the despair of his people’s past. It was something he had to live with every day, something he could never escape, but he knew if he spent too much time dwelling on it that he would sink into despair and flounder for days or weeks in a dark mood that nothing but violence and danger could pull him out of. He wasn’t going to do that with Laurel here. And this time it had nothing to do with the bond between them. He would not put her at risk, she didn’t deserve that. Not after everything she’d gone through. “Let’s not dwell on the tragedies of the past. Tell me more about you. Who are your people? What was your life like before all this?”
Laurel shrugged and stabbed her spoon into the remnants of her meal. “I grew up on a farm. We raise sustainable crops and sell to the local community. My siblings work along with my parents. I was at university before all this happened.” Her neutral expression turned down into a frown and Dru regretted asking her about the past. That way lay pain for both of them, something a little safety wasn’t enough to let them heal from. But Laurel kept talking, words spilling out as if she had to purge herself of some of her pain. “We had a fight. I didn’t want to go home after I graduated. I wanted to keep a job in the city and try and make it on my own. The last thing we ever said to each other,” she shook her head, “it wasn’t nice.” She finally looked up and her eyes were wet with a sheen of tears.
The table between them was too much. Dru stood and took his chair with him, leaning close and enveloping her in his arms once he was seated next to her. Laurel burrowed into his side, her breaths coming in heavy as she clutched at his stolen top, surely wrinkling the fabric. Dru didn’t give a damn. “I’m sure your parents will be happy to know you’re safe. They won’t be upset.” He might not have parents of his own, but he imagined that if he had a child—perhaps a boy with Laurel’s light peach skin and the dark, shifting eyes of a Detyen—if something happened to that child, memories of a fight would be forgotten, so long as he knew that his offspring survived. He would tear the galaxy apart looking for him, and wouldn’t rest until his son was safe back home and all threats were destroyed.
Laurel pulled back a little, but didn’t pull out of his arms. “You’d think after all this that the only thing I want to do is go home, wouldn’t you?” She shook her head slightly before laying it against his shoulder, her breath ruffling his hair. “But I still don’t want to work on the farm, still don’t want that to be my only accomplishment. You know I’m the only person in my family to go off planet? I think I’m the only one to ever leave the country. The galaxy is so big that I don’t know if all of my family’s fields will ever seem like enough, not anymore.” Her eyes widened and she buried her face in his side as she realized what she had said to him. “God, I sound terrible. You don’t even have—”
“I never saw Detya,” Dru interrupted her. He wasn’t about to let her feel terrible for her very natural feelings. “That doesn’t mean I don’t understand how constricting a planned life can be. I don’t want...” He’d wondered when he was younger if he would have chosen the path of the warrior if there had been another option.
“You don’t want what?” She hung on the word as if whatever he said would be enough to bridge the vast gap between their two life experiences.
He w
anted to tell her, wanted to explain what the soulless were, why his fellow warriors would give up their emotions, their futures, their deaths to eke out a few more years in service to the Detyen Legion. But it was his people’s most closely guarded secret, a horror that few would understand. So Dru gave her parts of the truth and hoped it would sustain her for now. “There are choices a soldier is expected to make and I don’t want to do what I’m supposed to do. To sacrifice everything for my people.” He’d never said it out loud before, never admitted to anyone but himself that he didn’t want to sacrifice his soul. Even if Laurel couldn’t know exactly what he was saying, it was strangely freeing to admit his shameful truth.
“I don’t think not wanting to die is that strange,” Laurel offered.
“It’s not that.” He should have taken the lifeline, should have accepted her interpretation of his vague statement. But it felt like a lie and that was something he would not do to his mate.
“Then what?”
“I just want you to know that I understand where you’re coming from. About not living up to expectations.” It felt weak, like he should have been able to gather up the courage to tell her the exact truth, but there would be time for that later. Whether it happened before they made it to Detyen HQ or after he didn’t know, but Dru promised himself that he would tell Laurel everything about the Legion, or at least everything that she wanted to know.
A yawn split Laurel’s lips, the loud sound echoing around them. “Escaping is way more exhausting than expected. I think I’m going to turn in. Wake me if you need anything?”
“Of course, denya.” He hadn’t realized that she was tired, he still had a few more hours of energy welled up, but Laurel wasn’t used to the pace they been forced to move at earlier. And he knew that adrenaline crashes could hit a person when they least expected it. That she’d stayed up this long was actually kind of surprising.
Laurel paused after standing and looked down at him with a confused expression on her face. “What’s that mean?”
“What?” Had their translators malfunctioned?
“Denya?”
Had he called her that? The recognition beat within him, the soul deep truth of who Laurel was, what she was. But she was tired, and still had a lot of information to process. He wasn’t going to put the weight of their connection on her yet. “It’s just a word. It doesn’t matter.”
Laurel stared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but cut herself off with another yawn. “Whatever,” she finally said. “Good night.”
Dru watched her go and knew that though they’d made it out of the immediate danger the rest of their troubles were just beginning.
Chapter Seven
LAUREL HAD BEEN FIGHTING off a headache all day. She didn’t know why she was fighting, though, as ‘minor headache’ seemed to be her new normal state. But she was really wishing for a painkiller right now. The throbbing in her temple wouldn’t go away, no matter what she did. She’d tried a cool compress, tried burying her head under her pillow, tried a breathing exercise. And it was still the same.
She wasn’t going to worry. Just like she’d told Dru, people got headaches. There was nothing wrong with that. No reason to believe that something was still wrong with her brain even after two months of intensive care from the Oscavian scientists. That was assuming they’d actually been caring for her and not just studying her deterioration or something.
No. Laurel was better than she’d been. Not 100%, not yet, but her vision was mostly fine and the headaches didn’t threaten to split her head in two anymore. She promised herself that she’d get checked out by an impartial medic the first chance she got, but for now she wasn’t going to worry about what might have gone wrong. She was okay. She would continue to be okay, and she wasn’t going to worry Dru with her minor concerns about her head. He’d blow it out of proportion. The man had endured six weeks of additional torture to make sure that she got the medical care she needed, she wasn’t going to make him doubt whether or not it had been worth it.
He had enough on his mind.
But nothing on his body.
Laurel nearly swallowed her tongue when Dru stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. She was sitting in the galley, entertaining herself by tracing the rivet patterns on the hull of the ship. There really was nothing to do on the damn shuttle. But when Dru stepped out of the shower Laurel’s mind unfurled a scroll with hundreds, no thousands, of suggestions for how they could pass the time until they made it to his people.
Too bad the shower stall was so small, as she’d learned wedging herself into it the night before, or she’d have another hundred things to add to the list. Laurel had always had an expansive imagination, and today that was something she was beyond grateful for.
Dru was haloed by the galley light above him, his violet skin practically glowing. Dark markings climbed down his arms and up one side of his neck, begging to be traced, to be tasted. The scars on his arms were fresh, souvenirs from their Oscavian friends, but Laurel didn’t let her gaze linger. Dru wouldn’t want her to think about that, wouldn’t want her to worry. He’d want her to see him as strong, and while her eyes raked over his physique she had no trouble imagining just how well he could use those muscles.
Something in her core tightened and she shifted in her seat, suddenly warm and a little uncomfortable. It hit her like a lightning strike, lust fast and hot and brighter than the sun. Laurel’s tongue darted out to wet her lips and she didn’t miss the way that Dru’s eyes flicked down to catch the movement.
He broke their intense stare first, holding his towel tighter. “I apologize. I should have brought my clothing with me.”
“Believe me, I’ve got no problem with this.” If Laurel had still been capable of rational thought she never would have said it. She’d always been terrible at flirting, never reading the situation right. But Dru was right there and practically naked! All he had to do was say the word and she’d drag him back to her bunk to have her way with him.
Hell, they didn’t need to go all the way to the bunk, there was a table right in front of her and plenty of floor if they wanted more room to maneuver.
God, who was she and where had all of her restraint flown off to?
Dru was breathing heavily and looking at a point on the wall somewhere behind her as if he couldn’t stand to be in her presence a second longer. Given the way she couldn’t stop staring at him, she didn’t blame him. “I’ll just go get changed.” His voice came out gruff, dark and deep and wicked.
She needed to get away from him too before she did something crazy, like throw her top off and beg him to take her. She shot up from her chair and misjudged the space she had to dart down the hallway, ending up in a standoff with Dru. One of them had to move to the side if they didn’t want to collide, but they were stuck, frozen, neither able to choose a path.
Dru’s eyes met hers and red flared deep inside them, the heat there fanning the flames inside of her. Would it be such a bad idea to kiss him right now? To try and take the edge off the tension that had been riding her whenever she got close to him?
Laurel stretched for something to say, something to distract her. “Why do they do that?” Did she always sound that breathy?
“What?” He was practically growling, the sound humming in the air, a forbidden caress.
“Get red.” There was no one else around to hear, but they were both speaking low, as if neither of them could bear to break the bubble they were both caught in.
“It happens when emotions run high, passions enflamed.” He towered over her, a pillar of strength and desire that she wanted to wrap herself around and never let go.
Laurel had never felt like this before and she didn’t know if she liked it. How did people go around all day with this much everything roiling around inside of them? “Are they?”
“What?”
“Running high. Enflamed.” It was hard to believe that Dru felt for her a fraction of what she wanted from him, but his ey
es were red and his breaths heavy. If she dared a glance down at the flimsy towel that stood between them she was almost sure she’d see further evidence of how much he wanted her. She reached up and traced her fingers over the harsh edge of his cheekbone, which was sharper than any human’s, giving his face a pointed look of danger.
He leaned into her hand, resting his cheek fully against it, his skin almost hot enough to burn. One of them leaned in, or maybe both of them; it happened in a blur and when his lips landed against hers all thoughts flew out the airlock. Her headache evaporated, her worries about her health were gone, even her concern for what was done to Dru fell by the wayside. There was nothing but the two of them crushed together, devouring each other in a dueling clash of tongues and teeth.
This was no gentle kiss, no tentative discovery. Dru kissed her like he owned her, like she was and always had been his and he needed her and the rest of the universe to know it. A distant whisper in her mind wondered if she should be shrinking back, intimidated by the claiming, but the rest of Laurel was too happy to grab on and go along for the ride.
Her hands came up and buried themselves in Dru’s hair before she could worry about where to put them. He grabbed her around her hips and jerked her forward until they were pressed flush up against one another, his towel only held up because it was trapped between their bodies.
He tasted alien and familiar all at once, like something she’d tried so long ago that she’d almost forgotten the flavor, but suddenly it came rushing back in a whirl of emotion and memory as he kissed her, his tongue doing sinful things that even her active imagination hadn’t thought were possible.
