Mating Fever (Interstellar Brides Book 10)

by Grace Goodwin

  If this was sex with a beast, sign me up.

  His lips lingered, tracing patterns on my shoulders and neck. I lay quiet in his arms, unwilling to move just yet. He was wonderful. Amazing. And I wasn’t ready to give him up.

  He held me there for a long time before carrying me to the side of the pool. He wrapped his arms around me, cock still deep inside. I was too tired to protest, and he felt too good to let go. I slept for a short time, not eager to move until faint light filtered into the cave, a sign that the planet’s moon rose over the unseen horizon. He didn’t seem inclined to release me, but eventually his arms loosened and his cock slipped from me. We both moaned at the separation. As I felt his seed slip from me, I could see his cock was still semi-hard. That had fit in me?

  Wow. I was a champ.

  Stifling happy laughter, I stepped into the water to clean up, but didn’t speak, my brain all sluggish and replete from that incredible bout of sex. God, if we did that again, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to function. I’d need days to recover.

  Nyko followed me into the water and we were all business now. Once clean, we dressed and put on our weapons before sleeping. We knew enough from our training that when we were behind enemy lines, we had to be prepared for attack, even in sleep. Being naked and without an ion blaster was dangerous and plain stupid.

  Still, dressed and ready for the enemy, he held me close, wrapped around me, made me feel safe. He was a man again, the beast who’d driven me mad with desire was gone. I missed that big brute, but the way Nyko was looking at me, possessive and filled with heat, I knew we’d be talking about this again later.

  I was up for another round of hot sex, but I could promise him nothing beyond that. One, Doctor Moor was just waiting to finish my processing in the brides program. And two, I had to get to I.C. and get this Hive tech out of my head. I might not last another week with these circuits burning through my brain cells like a welding torch through aluminum foil. I could practically feel the neurons singeing and burning, curling up into little black ash.

  Dramatic? Yeah. But I gave myself a pass. Who else had this brain-eating crap in their head? No one I knew. At least no one Doctor Helion told me about. Not that he would tell me anyway. That Prillon doctor had more secrets than sense.

  My head was starting to hurt again, but I didn’t want to complain. The ache was barely there, and I needed sleep more than anything.

  Nyko cupped my face with his big hand. “Sleep, Megan. I will take watch.”

  Too tired to argue, I made sure the Nexus parts were within reach and curled onto my side on the hard stone floor. Nyko sat near me, facing away, toward the opening of the cave.

  “Wake me in four hours. You need sleep, too.”

  A grunt was his only response. I grinned and fell asleep in seconds, shocked by how wonderful it felt to have him here, watching over me. I trusted him with my life, trusted him to remain awake, alert and to keep me safe. And that was the closest thing to miraculous I’d experienced out here in space—other than that last orgasm.

  I drifted into an exhausted sleep with a smile on my face. The next morning, when it was time to go to the extraction point, I stuffed the Nexus parts in my pack and followed Nyko out of the cave. He hadn’t woken me, but I saw no sense in bringing it up. He’d just grunt at me anyway.

  The bodies were gone, Hive drones having recovered them in the night. The ravine was empty as we made our way down the cliff wall and onto the ground. Nyko went first, practically caging me with his body until I told him to give me some damn room. He didn’t relax until we were on the ground. We wore our helmets, weapons raised. Ready. He was in beast mode again and I didn’t argue or ask why. He was huge and I’d given up on conversation with him. He was monosyllabic at best. I worried since his beast should not be out. He was not mating or in combat. He should have been a man, but I’d heard rumors, stories of Atlans with Mating Fever who did not recover. Who stayed in beast mode and lost their minds and control. They were executed, like rabid dogs at the pound, and I did not want that for him.

  But I could do nothing to help here other than fucking him, if needed, until his beast was soothed. If he truly did have Mating Fever, he would not be cured until he fucked his true mate, put mating cuffs about both their wrists and gave his beast to her. He needed to claim his true mate to be safe. And that wasn’t me.

  Still, for the first time since I’d joined the Coalition Fleet, walking beside Nyko, I felt safe. Even now, walking through enemy territory.

  Which was a cruel joke. Because for the first time since my dad died, my heart was breaking into tiny little pieces. I never should have touched him. Never should have let him touch me. It would have been better just to have him drive me crazy with his bossy ways, his disagreeing with everything I said or did. Now, I knew what it felt like to have him inside me, touching me, fucking me. Making me gasp with lust and want and pleasure.

  As we used our sensors and discovered the hundreds of Hive that had descended on the battle the night before were now gone, I knew I was in deep emotional shit. I was sore. I wouldn’t be forgetting what we’d done for days. My muscles ached and my clit still tingled and throbbed for more. Despite the stern lecture I gave myself, I couldn’t tear my gaze from his shoulders, his muscled thighs, his ass. I still wanted him. Even worse, I wanted him to take care of me, protect me, turn all that big, bossy aggression toward watching over me, loving me.

  God, my mother would be screeching to the heavens about weak-willed sluts and stupidity. Nyko made me stupid. No other man had ever managed that. But no matter how much I tried to ignore the longing coursing through me, it was too late. The cat was out of the bag, people. Now that I’d had a taste, I wanted more. More. More.

  I kept leaning forward, trying to draw the scent of his skin into my lungs. We walked for several hours, never stopping, never slowing our pace. I was in good shape, but my head seemed to grow worse with each step. Pain pulsed through my skull with each hard strike of my boots on rock, each beat of my heart. Through it all, I followed him. I didn’t pay attention to our surroundings. I couldn’t. I was in too much pain. But I could follow him. Somehow, I felt like I could follow him anywhere. I let him worry about watching for the enemy, and I focused all of my attention on watching him.

  I was turning into a crazy person. This obsession I felt toward him now, the possessive, needy, feminine lust? Total trouble. Since only his mate would be able to save him from his intensifying Mating Fever, one night with Nyko was going to have to last me a lifetime, and I was afraid it wasn’t going to be enough. But it would have to be.

  And Nyko? I doubted he’d summoned an Interstellar Bride. If he had, if he was ready to take a mate, he wouldn’t be here with me right now on this shit-hole planet. He wasn’t ready, and I was one simple swipe of Doctor Moor’s finger away from having a mate of my own. An Atlan, from what the doc had said. An Atlan that wasn’t Nyko.

  That thought made my eyes ache and burn with unshed tears. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I hormonal? Exhausted? Was this thing in my head going to make me lose my mind before it killed me?

  We reached the transport station just as the planet’s brightest star reached its zenith. It was hot, so hot the cooling system in my uniform couldn’t keep up. Sweat streamed down my temples and leaked into my eyes, making them sting beneath the helmet where I couldn’t reach in to wipe them away.

  At least two dozen Coalition warriors had set up a defensible perimeter around the transport pad, and Nyko marched us straight up into its center.

  He turned to me then, as he’d done many times over the last few miles, making sure I was with him.

  With a grunt, he settled his heavy hand on my shoulder and watched me as the transport began. Moving through space this way was harsh, a slicing cold pain twisting my body into a contortionist’s box before putting me back to rights somewhere else.

  God, I fucking hated transport.

  We were only halfway home, the transport pad we
were sent to was a relay station of sorts, one stop on the way back to Battleship Karter. And home. My eyes were burning with salt and sweat and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating inside my helmet. I needed cold air. I was going to pass out if I didn’t get some on my face.

  Reaching up, I unlocked the helmet from my shoulders and lifted it off. Gasping for breath, I dropped it at my feet. The heavy weight of it was the reminder that my helmet wasn’t standard issue.

  But it was too late.

  Pain lanced my mind with a thousand voices, buzzing. Humming. Burning. Like a group of starving vultures, the Hive minds that touched mine clung and picked at me, at my uniqueness, at my thoughts, calling the others until the pressure built, the weight of it crushing me beneath them.

  I didn’t know I’d fallen to my knees until my head cracked on the hard floor. Nyko lifted me into his arms. I tasted blood in my mouth, felt the boiling heat of more blood leaking from my nose and eyes to run down my face like red tears.

  And my head. God, my fucking head.

  Nyko held me cradled to his chest and I clung to him, my only anchor to reality, as every Hive intellect within broadcast distance assaulted my mind.

  Chapter Seven

  Nyko, Transport Station 27-J, orbiting Planet Latiri 4

  “Doctor! Now!” I growled, watching as Megan gripped her head as if it were going to explode. She was curled in on herself in my arms and an odd sound of pain and whimpering escaped her lips. I smelled blood. Megan’s blood. And her body trembled, clinging to me. My beast was raging, torn between the need to hold Megan and the urgent desire to tear whoever was hurting her in half. But there was no one for my beast to kill. I was helpless, and the sick twisting in my gut spiked my heart rate, made my vision begin to blur as the beast fought to the front, out of control.

  “Helmet. Nyko. I need—” Her body shook, and my beast held her closer, her arms and legs pinned by my tight hold, trying to prevent her from hurting herself. She’d already fallen to the ground once, hitting her head on the ship’s transport pad. Her fingers tunneled into my hair, twisting and tugging as her body writhed and she buried her face in my neck. “Nyko.”

  That one small, helpless word undid me. Megan Simmons was a Coalition captain, a warrior and a feisty, smart-talking pain in my ass. She did not cling, or beg, or ask for help, which only meant she was hurting and trusting me to take care of her.

  “Doctor!” My roar shook the containers stacked near the edges of the transport platform.

  We’d just transported from the extraction point on Planet Latiri 4 barely two minutes prior. Alone. I had no idea all the other Coalition fighters had withdrawn or escaped the hoard of Hive the day before. It didn’t matter. We’d come here, per protocol, stopping at this temporary transport station that made sure the Hive could not transport directly to our battleship. If they tracked our movement off the planet, they would follow only to this vacant ship—it orbited the planet for the sole purpose of extracting troops—but would not be able to monitor the next step of transport, thus keeping them from intercepting fighters midway. This worthless hunk of junk kept our battleships safe, but right now I didn’t care about the Karter, I cared about the woman in my arms.

  I worried for Megan. My beast snarled and wanted to rip the head off the transport technician. His wide-eyed stare told me he knew it, too.

  Megan was writhing and panting, then switching to moaning as she lifted her arms to cradle her head. I looked from Megan to the transport technician. “Why? You hurt her?”

  “No, Warlord. No. Her injury was not caused by transport.”

  I dropped my helmet to the floor and lowered my head to hers, both beast and man eager to take her pain and make it our own.

  “Megan,” I said, then repeated it louder. “Megan. Open eyes.”

  She looked up at me, her dark eyes wild with pain, her skin almost a sickly gray.

  “What wrong?”

  “My…head. I need my helmet. Please. Put it back. Put it back—” She cried out in agony, her back bowing as I fought to hold her.

  I searched for the technician, frustrated at my beast’s slow speech and limited vocabulary. “Helmet. Give helmet.”

  The warrior, a young Prillon soldier barely old enough to have joined the Fleet, raced to my side, and to Megan’s. He lifted her helmet from the floor and I held Megan, lowering her head so the Prillon officer could put the helmet back on her head.

  “It’s heavy. Too heavy.” The Prillon paused, the head protection in his hands. “It’ll hurt her neck. Are you sure?”

  “Do it.” The beast growled the order. I would hold her damn head, cushion her body, help her. I could hold ten women her size and not begin to strain. For Megan, I began to suspect, I would do more than that. The beast’s chant of mine, mine, mine had not stopped. And fucking her in that cave, tasting her feminine heat, listening to her cries of pleasure, had not lessened his hunger for her. The opposite.

  But that was my beast, and I knew I was suffering from Mating Fever. I might be too far gone to come back. And Megan knew. She knew in that cave. My beast didn’t care. He wanted her. But I would not condemn her to a life with me when she’d only fucked me to soothe the beast. I had too much pride, and too much respect for her, to force her into a mating. The beast would just have to let her go. But not now. I didn’t dare try to wrestle control from him now, not with the scent of Megan’s blood in his lungs and her soft cries of pain filling his ears.

  The Prillon worked the helmet onto her head, slowly, watching me with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t small, not by Prillon standards, but I was in beast mode. I’d kill him before he could twitch if he hurt her.

  When the helmet slid on and settled, she went limp in my arms. I could not tell if she simply wilted with relief or if she’d lost consciousness.

  “Doctor,” I snarled, pulling her into my chest so I could hold her. My hand went to the top of her forehead, stroked her soft skin below the edge of the helmet.

  “There are no doctors here,” one of the armed warriors said, eyes narrow. “Triage only. You’ll have to take her to the battleship.”

  “Transport.” I narrowed my gaze and pointed to the control panel. If Megan didn’t need me to hold her, I would have ripped the entire transport room to pieces. “Med unit. Karter.”

  “I have a ReGen wand.” The Prillon warrior offered, but I snarled. I had one, too. I’d used it on her last night. Her head had hurt then, too. I realized now that the woman in my arms had something more going on with her than just a concussion or a normal headache. Her helmet easily weighed three times that of a normal soldier’s, although it looked exactly like the thousands of other helmets on the battlefield. As she looked like the thousands of other soldiers in her armor. But that, too, was a lie. Megan was unique. And courageous. Strong and beautiful. Her lips were full, her skin soft. She smelled like orchids and metal, sweetness and steel. And blood. I could still smell her blood.

  Mine. The beast practically shouted in my head and I let him growl again, just to shut him the fuck up.

  “To Karter. Now!” I commanded the Prillon to send us off, and he hurried to do as I bid, running to the control panel. Only then did I notice I was surrounded, five men with full-sized ion cannons encircled the platform, every weapon armed and aimed…at me. Or rather, at my beast. And I didn’t blame them. I was hanging on to my control by a thread. I was hanging on for her.

  I ignored them all and arched my back in a protective shelter over my ma—no. Over Megan. She wasn’t my mate. Not. Mine. I was not a pity fuck. My beast didn’t have an ounce of pride, the fever stealing what small amount the savage side of my nature once had, but I did.

  Ever since the battle the day before, I had been taken over by my beast. He hadn’t stepped back and my body was still beast size. I loomed over Megan, over all of them. If she died in my arms, even those ion cannons wouldn’t be enough to save them. I was panting and almost snarling in frustration.

  She’d bee
n fine on the damn planet, but here, where she should be safe, she was in anguish. Her pain reduced me to the beast’s one-word conversations.

  I felt the tug and gray pull of the transport and was, within seconds, standing on the transport pad on the Karter. Fuck! I’d wanted to be sent to the med unit directly and stalked down the halls in the right direction. Everyone moved out of my way as I went and as soon as the doors to the med unit opened for me, I yelled, “Doctor.”

  The word was a shout, so loud a tablet on one of the tables vibrated and fell off the table onto the floor with a loud clatter. Heads turned my way and a doctor approached.

  “Head. Help.”

  I lay Megan down on an examination table as I stood there, fists clenched, as she was tended. My beast knew it couldn’t help her, understood that the people here could. One doctor in green and several medical officers hovered over her, waving wands and assessing her. One reached for her helmet and I snarled, grabbing his wrist.

  “No!”

  Everyone in the medical unit froze, staring at me as I tried to communicate. “Need helmet. Helps.”

  The doctor was new. I knew every medical officer in this battlegroup, all Atlans did. We fought hard and rough on the ground. We got hurt. A lot. And if it wasn’t me in here stuffing my huge body into the too small ReGen pod, I was watching over my fellow Warlords, my friends, as they did. This doctor was a man I’d never seen before, and I didn’t like the speculative look that came into his eye when he returned his attention to Megan, and to her helmet.

  “Let him go, Nyko.” The voice was female and for that reason alone I didn’t strike her down. “You got Megan here. Let us help her.”

  Slowly, one finger at a time, I released the idiot’s arm, the idiot who’d been about to remove Megan’s helmet again and hurt her. “Helmet on.”

  “We hear you.” The doctor I did not know waved at me absently as he issued orders. “Pull up her profile. I need to know if she’s ever had surgery. Look for medical notes under a doctor named Helion.”