This was personal for the daevah—not necessarily with Taeraal, but with this other slaver they were after. Whatever emotions were behind it, whatever reason they had, it was clearly a vendetta that ran deep. That didn’t negate the grudge Thargen had with Taeraal, but it put it into perspective. All Thargen had to do was get through this last bit, and he and Yuri could be free. They could move on from what Taeraal had done.
He doubted that the twins would be able to move on from whatever had happened to them even if they found their target; the hatred they’d displayed just now suggested that their pain was too great, that the trauma inflicted by the wrong they’d been done was too scarring.
Thargen tucked his Rage away; he’d have chance enough to let it out later. “I’ll try, but that’s the best I can promise you. Tend to lose the meaning of mercy while I’m in the thick of it.”
The daevah stared at him, their solemn expressions perfect mirrors of each other. Tension crackled in the air. Normally, Thargen would’ve thrived on that sort of tension, would’ve pushed it further. What would that gain him in this situation?
“That good with you, or we gonna stand here staring at each other like a bunch of creeps?” he asked.
“It’s nice to have people to stare at other than him.” Kier tipped his head toward Kayl, a corner of his mouth tilting up.
“I assure you, the feeling is mutual,” Kayl said.
Fuck. Strange as they are, I kinda like these two.
Kayl manipulated the map again, indicating a copse of trees downslope from the smuggler camp with a clear line of sight to the cave. “I will position myself here, in one of these trees. That will allow me proper vantage to ensure no one escapes.”
“Where’s the Fang gonna be?” Thargen asked.
“Here, until we need it for extraction,” said Kier. “This is as close as we could safely land to the camp without coming down directly atop it.”
“You can have it remotely fly to us?”
Both twins nodded.
“Good.” Thargen squeezed Yuri a little tighter. “She’s staying here.”
Yuri looked up at him again, brow furrowed, and caught his gaze. “Thargen, I—”
“Will stay on this ship.” He leaned his head down to kiss her forehead and whispered, “We both know you’re not ready for this, Yuri. You have a warrior’s heart, but not the training. At least if you’re here, I know you’re safe.”
Her lips were downturned when he lifted his head away, but she offered him a nod. “I know. I’m not stupid. I know I’d only get in the way and, well, we both know how I react around blood. I’d only be a liability. I just don’t like having to sit here being useless while you go put yourself in danger.”
Fucking hell, she was beautiful even when she was sad. Leaving her, even for a little while—even for a fight he’d been looking forward to since Taeraal had jumped him in Arthos—was going to be hard. A lot of things were hard when it came to Yuri, and the easiest one to deal with these days was his cock. But none of that was her fault, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. All the things he felt for her, all the emotions she showed for him, it was all worth it. She was worth it a million times over.
Thargen cupped a hand under her jaw, keeping her face angled toward his. “You’re definitely not stupid, and you sure as fuck aren’t useless, terran. Don’t ever think you are.”
That reversed her frown, though he could still see the turmoil in her eyes. He understood that frustration—he understood wanting to make a difference, wanting to be helpful, and knowing that you couldn’t be in a particular situation. Fuck, he felt like that pretty damned often outside of combat.
“It is many hours until dark,” Kier said. “We need not pass them standing around this map. Would the two of you care for some food?”
“Fuck yeah,” Thargen replied.
At the same instant, Yuri’ said, “Heck yeah.”
Her lips stretched into a grin almost as wide as Thargen’s just before they burst into laughter.
And that laughter felt good—better than it had any right to feel. He guessed it was because they were finally so close to the end of this, because the escape he’d promised her was finally in sight…and because he’d found the missing piece of himself, which had always been her.
The twins led them to a small galley, where they all sat and ate together. Even though the food was just those typical pre-packaged, instant-rehydration meals served on a lot of small ships, it ranked amongst the most delicious meals Thargen had ever eaten. As much as he loved meat, especially when it had been roasted over an open fire, having some fruits and vegetables—even if he didn’t know what those fruits and vegetables were—was a welcome change.
Kier was talkative throughout the meal, a bit awkward but friendly enough, and even Kayl seemed to relax a little. Thargen had the sense that, despite having one another, these daevahs were lonely at heart. He wondered if it had to do with their psychic bond—were they just so connected to one another that being together for them was just like being alone for everyone else? But he didn’t spend much time contemplating that—or talking. He was far too occupied with shoveling food into his mouth.
Yuri ate an entire second meal on her own, and Thargen cut himself off after his third, giving in to the obnoxious little voice in the back of his mind yammering about manners and being a gracious guest or some shit like that—a voice that sounded oddly like Drakkal.
After the food, Kier took them into the cargo hold—which had been converted into a bunk space with fold-up cots along the walls. He opened a row of storage lockers, revealing dozens, perhaps hundreds, of pieces of clothing in a variety of cuts, sizes, and colors.
“For many of the slaves we rescue, choosing their own clothing from here is the first thing they do that shows them they are free,” Kier explained when Thargen gave him a questioning look. “A small thing, perhaps, but it helps them feel more like people again rather than possessions.”
He told them to help themselves to some fresh clothing if they could find anything that suited them. Thargen claimed a pair of boots that were a bit snug but mostly comfortable but decided to wait on anything else—he was likely to stain whatever he was wearing with blood tonight.
Yuri selected a shirt, pants, and shoes that were actually sized for her little terran body, holding them up to show him. The pants were black, like her hair, and the shirt almost perfectly matched the color of her eyes. Though he longed to peel off her current clothing himself, though he yearned to have his hands on her bare skin, there was still the matter of having an audience—and the looming battle, which was a distant second concern.
Kier eliminated one of those problems by leading Thargen and Yuri to private quarters—apparently one of three such chambers on the Fang.
The room was small and sparsely furnished, containing only a bed, a little table built into the wall, a shower stall, and a door that opened on a toilet room. Compared to the accommodations Thargen and Yuri had been sharing for the last couple weeks, this was outright fucking extravagant.
“Feel free to clean yourselves up and get some rest,” Kier said. “We will check with you in a few hours.” With that, the daevah slipped out.
Thargen’s blood was already flowing hot before the door had even closed; cleaning up and resting were not the activities at the top of his priority list. He set their gear and weapons down on the floor near the door and turned to Yuri, who’d already moved deeper into the room.
When she tossed the folded pile of new clothing onto the table and flopped down on the bed with a content groan, Thargen knew there’d be no rest now—and that there’d be no point in cleaning up just yet. Seeing her lying on that bed, the fabric of her oversized gray shirt sculpted to her full breasts and nipples, sent his Rage into a frenzy.
His clothes were off before he’d even reached the bed; his cock sprang free, already hard, throbbing, and hungry. Yuri stared up at him with those beautiful green eyes, her lower lip caught bet
ween her teeth. The fire in her gaze said all that needed to be said—You know what I want, vorgal.
Damn right, he did.
He whipped off her pants, tore her shirt open, and unleashed himself, worshipping her with his hands, mouth, and tongue, leaving no part of her delectable little body untouched. He was aware only of Yuri through the haze created by her heady scent and intoxicating taste, and when he joined his body with hers he was overcome anew with the need to brand her, claim her, possess her as thoroughly as she did him.
Their fingers roved, squeezing flesh, pulling hair, clenching fistfuls of the bedding as they thrust and writhed, panted and moaned, and completely lost track of where one body ended and the other began.
Thargen kissed her repeatedly, kissed her everywhere. He kept his body in constant motion, pressing ever closer to his own climax as Yuri’s breathy cries of pleasure filled his ears. His Rage roiled beneath the surface, relishing every sensation, pushing him to give more and more to her—more pleasure, more of himself.
They came undone simultaneously, bodies shuddering, lips locked together with Yuri’s blunt nails digging into the skin of the back of his head, and pushed through the overwhelming ecstasy that wracked their bodies.
By the time they’d begun to descend from those heights, Thargen had already changed positions, flipping onto his back so Yuri could ride him. The squeezing of her thighs on his hips and the scrape of her nails over his chest drove him mad.
He lost himself on those building waves of pleasure, falling so deeply into her that he could not recall carrying her out of bed—though he must’ve, as they wound up in that narrow shower stall, Yuri’s ass against his lower belly. Her hands were on the stall door, and his were clamped around her waist, holding her up as he drove into her with ragged breaths. Hot water sprayed on his back and sluiced down their naked bodies.
He was well beyond words by then, able only to grunt and growl as he pumped his hips. When he reached his climax, his seed shooting deep inside her, his mind blanked out for a moment; there was room for nothing else but pleasure and heat.
Eventually, they must’ve caught their breath and calmed, and Thargen withdrew from Yuri, lowering her to the shower floor. She stood, limbs languid, with a pleased smile on her lips as he gently cleaned her. She made little humming sounds throughout—and those sounds were almost enough to get him going again. But he held back now, tamping down his Rage to save for later.
His zoani needed rest, and it wasn’t a bad idea for him to get some, too. However quickly and quietly he and the daevahs hoped to raid this camp, no one could predict what would happen, and Thargen would need to be rested and alert.
The shower’s automated dryer kicked on a few seconds after he’d turned the water off, bathing Thargen and Yuri in a warm light that made the moisture vanish from their skin over the course of a few thumping heartbeats. He stepped out of the stall and carried her to bed.
She turned to face him as he lay down beside her, and he drew her into his arms.
They remained like that for a long while, with Thargen content to simply listen to her breathing and enjoy the feel of her against him.
“Guess we need to expand your title,” she said once the blush had finally begun fading from her cheeks.
“How’s that?” he murmured.
“Thargen Skullbreaker, Bane of Skeks and Slayer of Yuri.” She offered a satisfied smile that heated his blood all over again.
Thargen hummed appreciatively and leaned his face toward hers, capturing her lips in a kiss that he had no qualms about stretching out. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since they’d come into the room, and he didn’t care. He would squeeze as much as he could out of these moments.
“I accept this honor, zoani,” he said when he pulled back, “and offer you the titles Conqueror of Thargen and Master of Rage.”
She beamed at him, and it pierced straight to his heart—which only made it hurt all the more when her smile faded, and her expression became somber a few moments later. “Just so you know, Thargen, you haven’t been released from your promise.”
“To get you home?”
“To come back to me.” She cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re required to come back. I’m not done with you yet…not even close.”
“Ah, Yuri”—he turned his face toward her hand to kiss her palm—“I only just got started with you. There’s nothing in this whole fucking universe that could keep me away.”
Now it was Yuri who kissed him—one of those sweet, tender kisses he’d come to enjoy so much, the sort of kiss that made it clear that she was here for him, even with everything else put aside. He understood now that a kiss like this was love in its purest form, love without conditions or modifiers, love simply for its own sake. And it stole his breath just as thoroughly as their most heated, passionate kisses.
When she finally withdrew her lips, Thargen pulled her closer and rasped, “I fucking love you, terran.”
Twenty-Two
Kier—who was little more than a shadow amidst darkness, even to Thargen’s eyes—flattened his back against the cliff and lifted a hand to his wrist. With a barely audible click and a gentle hum that was more a feeling than a sound, a small, spherical object detached from his wrist armor and floated into the air.
Thargen adjusted his hold on his auto-blaster and suppressed an impatient growl. They were close enough now for him to smell not only the smugglers’ fire but the sweat of the camp’s inhabitants. His Rage demanded action; it had no patience for all this slinking around in the dark. It wanted blood. And Thargen agreed with it—just not enough to give in. Not yet.
“Three sentries at the barricade, one of whom is monitoring your angle of approach,” said Kayl through the commlink in Thargen’s ear. “All armed with auto-blasters.”
The orb silently drifted around the corner.
“I see him,” said Kier. His words also came through the commlink even though he was only a meter away from Thargen; his fully enclosed helmet was not currently transmitting his voice in the open air. “Drone is inside the cave. I see five captives, all in collars.”
“Is that really all that’s left?” Yuri asked over the comms. “You said there were six before, didn’t you?”
How much guilt was she feeling because she was alive and well while so many of the others had suffered and died? How much weight was she carrying on her shoulders because she hadn’t been able to help them before, because she was safe aboard the daevahs’ ship now while the other survivors were trapped in a cave with the remaining smugglers?
Part of Thargen wanted her with him even though logic said she was in the best place she could possibly be right now. He never could’ve imagined just how adversarial his instincts to keep her safe and keep her at his side could be with one another.
“It would seem so. One of them did appear to be in exceptionally poor condition when we first scouted the cave, and it is possible she has already passed. Considering the circumstances, this is more than we could’ve hoped for.” Kier tapped his wrist controls again. “Seven of the smugglers are inside. Only one appears to be sleeping.”
“And there’s Taeraal.” Yuri’s voice was darker than Thargen had ever heard before. He could almost picture the expression that must’ve been on her face as she sat in the Fang’s cockpit, watching the holo feeds from the twins’ drones.
“Taking him alive remains a priority,” said Kayl.
Kier lowered his arms. “We will eliminate the closest sentries. Be prepared to end the third, Kayl.”
If they could kill the lookouts quickly and quietly, they’d catch the rest of the smugglers off-guard, which would be more than enough to swing the fight to Thargen and Kier’s advantage—and was likely the only way they’d catch Taeraal alive.
Rage pushed against Thargen’s mind, seeking entry, demanding control.
Not yet, damn it.
Kier turned his head toward Thargen and nodded as he drew a blaster
from his hip.
Thargen returned the nod stiffly, dropping a hand from the foregrip of his auto-blaster to draw a knife. He sank into a crouch as Kier did the same.
Not yet. Soon, he told his Rage. Soon.
Kier leaned forward ever so slightly to peer around the cliff. Despite the daevah being clad in armor from head to toe, Thargen sensed Kier’s muscles tensing as though preparing to pounce.
“On my mark, vorgal…” Kier’s tail flicked—whether with restlessness or eagerness could not be determined. “Now!”
Thargen stood up and pushed himself away from the cliffside.
“Hold!” Kayl’s command, though little louder than his usual volume, cut through Thargen’s rising Rage, halting him in his tracks.
For an instant, Thargen was beyond the cover of the cliff, staring toward the smuggler camp—toward a bokkan with craggy skin who was positioned beside a two-meter-tall boulder at the edge of the wooden barricade, torso twisted while he looked back toward the other guards. The alien shook his head and began turning toward Thargen.
Both Thargen and Kier leapt back against the rock wall. Thargen’s back hit hard, but he barely registered the pain over the thundering of his heart. He held his breath and listened for the shouts of alarm that would call the other smugglers to arms.
Coward, his Rage growled, raking its claws across his mind.
“What is it?” Thargen whispered through his teeth after a few seconds of taut silence.
“Skeks,” both daevah replied simultaneously, their voices almost indistinguishable from one another.
Fuck. Leave it to the skeks to show up to a party uninvited.
“They are approaching the camp from the far side, relative to your position,” Kayl said. “I do not have a clear line of sight, but I estimate more than twenty-five of them.”
A sound rose into the night sky—no, not a singular sound, but a chorus of undulating howls. Skeks war cries. They were like fresh chunks of wood being tossed into the fires of Thargen’s Rage, instantly heightening his bloodlust.
Savage Desire (The Infinite City Book 4) Page 35
