Infinity's Embrace (Dark Planet Warriors Book 6)

by Anna Carven

  “Sorry,” he whispered, taking the shawl that covered her shoulders and pressing a corner of the fabric against the cut. His fingers were oh-so gentle. “Sorry, sorry.” With his left hand - his modified cyborg hand - he cupped the side of her face. His touch felt strange, warm yet cold, soft yet hard, faint static radiating from his fingers, making gooseflesh rise on her arms and neck.

  It wasn’t unpleasant, and Noa closed her eyes, savoring his nearness, his heady masculine scent, and the protective glow of his overwhelming presence.

  I told you not to watch, he chided, but his voice was gentle and not acerbic.

  “It’s just a graze,” Noa reassured him. He dabbed the cut with her shawl, satisfied that the bleeding had stopped. “It was worth every minute,” she added, just to feel your skin against mine and receive your tenderness after the storm.

  She didn’t say it, though, not even in mindspeech. She’d just witnessed how hard and fast and vicious he could be, and now he was kneeling before her with his hand gently resting against her cheek, worrying about a silly little cut.

  Ashrael was breathing heavily, a consequence of his recent exertion. He wasn’t sweating like a Human, because apparently, Kordolians didn’t sweat, but one of his wounds had re-opened, and black blood trickled from it, drawing a line down the side of his torso. His dark eyes were wide windows to an infinite, starless universe, reflecting concern and surprise. His lips were slightly parted, revealing the sharp points of his fangs.

  Noa stilled, wishing she could frame this moment in time and keep it forever. He was so flawed and so perfect, and something was happening to her. A tender ache was unfurling in her chest as his aura wrapped around her like a gentle cocoon.

  He darted forward, and the next thing Noa knew, his lips were on her cheek, kissing the skin around her cut. His warm, nimble tongue darted out and licked her wound. He inhaled deeply, running his fingers over her scalp, finding her craniotomy scar, which tingled.

  I’m sorry, he said again. I would never intentionally hurt you.

  “Stop apologizing,” Noa whispered, quivering with astonishment and need. “And… you know we have an audience, right?”

  She was referring to the Kordolian soldiers in the viewing gallery who were staring at them in disbelief. All of a sudden, they had become the object of very intense scrutiny.

  So? Ashrael asked nonchalantly. I do not care. He kissed her cut again, making it sting, but in a pleasant way. Their bond thrummed, energized by Ashrael’s actions. The air around them resonated with delicious energy, and Noa felt as if she were suspended in a dream.

  “I take it you have now adequately familiarized yourself with the cybernetic framework of your new arm.” The General’s voice interrupted their tender interlude.

  “It is adequate,” Ashrael said, gently drawing away from Noa to face Tarak, “although your viewing screen appears to be lacking in durability.”

  “It wasn’t designed to withstand the destructive power of cybernetic enhancements,” Tarak said dryly. “Perhaps you are starting to understand your new strength. I will have to order a replacement of super-reinforced plate from Veronia. For now, you may escort your Human to the medical bay to have her cut seen to.”

  Noa gaped at the General. He and Ashrael had just absolutely pummeled each other in the most vicious hand-to-hand combat she’d ever seen, and now he was granting the former assassin leave to take her for treatment.

  Kordolians were strange. Just a few days ago, Ashrael had been a prisoner in maximum security. Now, he was almost being treated as a member of the team.

  Noa studied Abbey’s husband with a narrowed gaze. The enigmatic General ignored her. If he had planned any of this, then he was a scary kind of genius indeed.

  “Humans are fragile, aren’t they?” Ashrael mused, sharing a meaningful look with Tarak.

  “Yes and no,” the red-eyed Kordolian replied cryptically.

  As they were about to leave, a uniformed Kordolian appeared, bowing respectfully as he approached Tarak. He spoke in the General’s ear, his expression grave.

  Instantly, Tarak’s aura changed, becoming cold. “Take her to the medical bay, katach. When you are done, we need to discuss the terms of our agreement.”

  Chapter Twenty

  She sat in the strange chair with Ashrael hovering over her, his attention flicking back and forth between the medic and Noa.

  “What is taking so long?” he demanded, his aura cracking with irritation.

  “It’s just a graze,” Noa reminded him, placing her hand on his wrist. “Relax. I’ve suffered much worse. This won’t kill me.” As soon as they touched, a spark of psychic energy jumped between them, their bond demanding more.

  It demanded so much more; it wanted them to…

  Noa shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. This was becoming scandalous, and she didn’t know what to do. It was all his damn fault. He was so distracting with his bare muscular torso and loose fighting trousers that fastened below his waist, revealing the tapering V-shaped muscles that angled down to his…

  She coughed, trying to suppress her treacherous thoughts.

  You can’t hide it from me, he whispered in her mind. You radiate desire. Why try to deny it? Can’t you feel our bond responding to your thoughts? It is inevitable, my sarien.

  “Ashrael,” she growled warningly, her cheeks heating as the medic, a slender white-haired Kordolian called Joran, appeared at her side. He held a small transparent tube in his gloved hand. It was filled with orange colored gel.

  “It’s an epidermal replacement compound with added fibrinogenic accelerant,” he explained. Noa nodded, even though she had no idea what he was talking about. “Apply it once every revolution, uh, I mean day, for the next seven days. It will prevent scar tissue from forming.” He pulled off the cap and applied some of the gooey liquid to a swab.

  Just as he was about to clean Noa’s cheek with a wipe, Ashrael swooped in, plucking the swab from the medic’s fingers. “I will do it,” he declared.

  The medic opened his mouth to protest, took one look at Ashrael, and backed away with a shrug. “Go ahead, katach. It isn’t neural surgery.” Apparently, he’d decided this was a fight not worth pursuing.

  Noa looked at Ashrael and sighed. Impossible man. You should let him do his job, she chided, but Ashrael was already wiping the dried blood from her cheek with a featherlight touch.

  I don’t want to. With a deft hand, he applied some of the epidermal-whatever gel to her cut. A pleasant ripple ran down her face; it felt as if someone were gently blowing air across her eyelids, her nose, her lips, and finally down the sealed cut on her left cheek. It was his energy. He was checking her with his ka’qui. I caused this, therefore I will care for you until this heals without a trace.

  I’m not bothered about scars.

  You should not be scarred by my hand. Not now, not ever.

  “That’s fine.” The medic interrupted them, clearing his throat. “You may go now.” He glanced sideways at Ashrael, unable to conceal his unease. Noa had observed this reaction from some of the Kordolians. Sometimes they looked at him with sudden fear in their eyes or made strange little signs with their hands when he passed.

  Weird. She couldn’t imagine being afraid of him now, but a lot had happened since their fateful encounter in the desert.

  Stepping back, he offered her his hand. The chair was high; it was made for Kordolian legs rather than Human ones, but Noa wasn’t petite, and she could definitely manage on her own. Still, she curled her fingers around Ashrael’s and stepped down, surprised at his gallant gesture.

  He squeezed her hand tightly, enveloping her long fingers in his warm grasp. He pulled her close, placing a hand on her waist.

  “Time to go,” the medic snapped, standing a safe distance away from Ashrael, as if he half-expected him to take a swipe at him. “I have other patients to treat.”

  Ashrael glared at him as he swept Noa out of the room. His desire swirled around him, pulsa
ting with growing intensity. It was a powerful undertow, threatening to drag her away.

  “Aren’t you supposed to report to the General?” she asked, trying to hang on to some semblance of control as she felt the magnetic pull of their bond. But it wasn’t just the bond. Underlying their psychic connection was primal, animalistic attraction. It was undeniable. Her body had awakened. From her fingertips to her moist lips to her throbbing pussy, every part of her yearned for his touch.

  For the first time in so long, she felt truly alive again.

  The bastard can wait, Ashrael replied as they stepped out into a dark, narrow corridor. How can I leave you like this? We can’t deny the inevitable, Noa.

  The passage was deserted. The door to the med-bay fused shut behind them, leaving them in near-darkness.

  She actually hated being on this ship. Its dark winding passageways and organic curves made her feel trapped, especially after she’d experienced the endless expanse of the desert, with its wide blue skies and blazing sunshine. After being confined in a cell for countless months, being in the desert had breathed new life into her battered soul.

  She couldn’t deny her attraction to Ashrael, but at the same time, something was holding her back.

  It wasn’t that she was scared of him; she was just scared of what was happening to her. Ever since she’d been taken by the SynCorp agents and spirited away to their secret research facility, her fate had been left in the hands of others

  Now, her life was spinning out of control, the long arm of fate throwing her into the slipstream like a small object spun into the endless vacuum space.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, holding her face in his hands. She’d seen what he was capable of; she’d seen him destroy a supposedly unbreakable wall with a single punch, but she didn’t flinch under his touch. “I might be a monster, but I would never hurt you, Noa. You are the only thing in the Universe that makes me want to escape myself and atone for all the evil things I’ve done in this life.” He reached up and caressed the long scar across her scalp. “Someone has hurt you terribly in this life. You’ve suffered, just as I have.” He kissed the scar. He didn’t seem to care that her hair was shorn close to her scalp. He didn’t care that her cheeks were gaunt and her skin was pale from living under artificial lights for close to a year. He didn’t care that her ribs protruded and her hip-bones were too prominent. “If I am changing, it is because of you. You make me want to live.” He laughed softly, reverently. “You make me want to become good, whatever that means. Don’t fight this, Noa. Don’t fight me. It’s too good of a thing to fight. Don’t question it.”

  Her heart hammered as she considered his words. He represented chaos, but also certainty. He’d brought the silence into her life, and ever since they’d formed a bond, she’d felt in control of her thoughts and actions.

  He was fury and control, chaos and silence.

  Being with him made her feel alive again.

  “If you are changing, then so am I,” she said quietly, bringing her hand up to his face. “I don’t know what I am anymore, but maybe this isn’t the nightmare I first thought it was.” Her heart hammered as he placed his hands on her waist. His touch was steady and reassuring, and as he leaned into her, their bond crackled with pent-up energy. Her aura sang to his, and sweet, blissful music flooded Noa’s mind as he leaned in and kissed her.

  As their lips joined, she felt their psychic energies combine, and their bond, hungry for fulfillment, grew just a little bit stronger.

  His mouth was raw and hot and wanting. She tasted him; he was both bitter and sweet, and his kiss deepened as he pulled her into his arms.

  His ka’qui surrounded her, and her starved soul drank it in. She responded greedily to his kiss, pressing her body against his, feeling the insistent hardness of his arousal.

  Ashrael lifted her up. Suddenly, she was weightless, suspended against the wall with her legs curling around his bare torso. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, his lips gentle and probing as if he were using them to map every inch of her face.

  “You see differently to the rest of us, don’t you?” she said hoarsely, bringing her arms around his neck. He was impossibly strong, holding her up with minimal effort.

  I don’t see color. I see form through energy. I see with my fingers and my vibration sense and my ears. I have seen you and I know that you are beautiful.

  I’m not… She’d never thought of herself as beautiful, even when she’d had long hair and curves.

  “Shh.” He silenced her with a kiss before gently breaking away, cursing softly under his breath. He trembled slightly as his erection pressed against her.

  Noa froze, her senses stretched taut. “What is it?”

  Someone comes. I suspect they are going to haul me before the General so that he can collect his dues.

  Collect? Something about the way he said it gave Noa a bad feeling. What does he want from you?

  Ashrael was right. Someone was heading in their direction. She felt their presence before she heard their footsteps, but then again, Kordolians never made much noise at all, and she was getting better at sensing auras. Maybe Ashrael was rubbing off on her.

  “Hey, assassin.” One of the First Division warriors stuck his head around the corner, his amber eyes gleaming in the dim light. “General wants to have a chat with you.” He raised an eyebrow as he took in their compromising position. Heat rose in Noa’s cheeks. She was probably blushing. Shameless Ashrael didn’t seem to care that they’d been found out. The warrior grinned. “You’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

  Ashrael growled in irritation as he gently set her down. It is untimely, but I must go. We will finish this later.

  “An escort will guide you to your quarters,” the warrior informed her as Noa stared at Ashrael, burning with unfulfilled need. Tendrils of familiar music began to snake their way through her mind.

  She tensed, her fingers twitching as the notes came back to her, one by one. It was all there somewhere, buried deep within her.

  Her music had come back. Snatches of a poignant melody echoed through her mind. It was an ode to unfulfilled love, written in a time when men and women lived by sunshine and candlelight and died too young, and she longed to share it with her dark lover, but he was disappearing, leaving her with a parting kiss and a lingering touch as he blended with the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Akkadian stared out of the viewing port, his back to Ashrael as he scanned the endless stars. “War can be a long, drawn-out affair,” he said, turning to face the assassin. “Sometimes, opposing sides do not even realize they are at war until it is too late.”

  A certain weariness had crept into his eyes. It was the first time he’d shown any hint of vulnerability in front of Ashrael. The General crossed the floor, lowering himself into the seat beside him. “I came to Earth because I was tired of war, and because I wanted my mate to live in peace. I have subjugated enough planets and civilizations to understand the futility of it all. Something went very wrong in our culture’s development, katach. We were supposed to become enlightened. Instead, we became corrupt, selfish, and cruel. The Universe has suffered under Kordolian rule, and I have been one of its main enforcers. I am guilty of perpetuating the Empire’s power, as are you.”

  Ashrael listened but said nothing, wondering where Akkadian was going with all this.

  “I thought we could escape and start a new life. I thought this lush planet in the Ninth Sector called Earth would be far enough. With half the fleet at our disposal now, it is easily defensible even without Silence, and it is so far away that it is not economically viable for the Empire to wage war on us.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “At least, that is what I’d hoped, but in truth, I knew better. There are other, more insidious ways to fight. Pitting Humans against us, contracting lesser species to do the dirty work, sending your kind to infiltrate and assassinate us, targeting our mates.” He bared his fangs in
disgust, his aura crackling with rage. “Now I realize that they won’t stop until we’re all dead. They will continue to devise new ways of getting to us, and to ignore that would be foolish. After my wife was taken, I vowed such a thing would never happen to her again.” He stared off into the distance, an uncharacteristic flash of uncertainty radiating from him. It was so quickly concealed Ashrael almost missed it. “I once swore I would never return to Kythia again. I had been looking forward to a peaceful semi-retirement, but that changed the night two Imperial assassins got within striking distance of my family.” It was a rare flash of honesty from the General. The appearance of Ashrael’s brethren in his compound had rattled him deeply. “The last thing I wanted to do was confine my wife and child to a warship when they should be enjoying nothing but freedom, but I never expected the Silent Ones to breach our security so easily. It will not happen again.” His tone was hard and uncompromising, and there was a finality to it that set Ashrael’s nerves on edge.

  “And where do I fit in amongst your grand plans?” Ashrael asked quietly, fearing he already knew the answer. “Not long ago, I was your enemy.”

  What did that make him now? An ally? After what they’d done to him, he hated the Empire as much as the General did, but he still wasn’t sure of his place in the Universe.

  “You are the centerpiece of my plan,” Akkadian said, pinning him with an unwavering stare. “We need to strike hard, fast, and without warning. It is the option that presents the least risk for all of us.”

  “I’m an assassin, not a soldier,” Ashrael growled. He was still irritable over being so abruptly separated from Noa, but at least he could feel her. She wasn’t too far away. Soon he would finish what he’d started with her. “I don’t participate in wars.”

  The General laughed, a cold, harsh sound. “Technically, no. But I’m sure your actions have started a few wars. Omaron-Ra was your doing, wasn’t it?”