by Presley Hall
Dragging my gaze away from her, I set two bowls down on the small table.
“It’s not the best food,” I admit. “But it’ll make you feel somewhat better.”
“Thank you,” Brooke murmurs softly, sitting and accepting the spoon that I hand her. We eat in silence for a few minutes, and then she glances up at me. “Can I… can I ask you a question?”
“Anything,” I tell her readily. “Anything I have an answer for, at least.”
She toys with her spoon for a moment, dragging it through the broth in her bowl. “Why did you and the other Kalixians come to rescue us?” she asks finally. “Why do you care what happens to a bunch of human women?”
I pause, thinking of how best to explain it all to her. “We’ve known about the existence of Terrans for a long time,” I say finally. “Most Kalixians had never met one of your species, because of how closed off Terra keeps itself in the universe. But many months ago now, we encountered a group of your kind—other women like you—being held captive on an Orkun ship.”
“Orkun…” She wrinkles her nose. “Is that what those hunchbacked aliens who abducted me and sent me here are called?”
“Yes.” I nod, unable to hide my own distaste. “At the time we discovered the captive Terran women, we were being held captive ourselves. We had been captured in battle, and we were meant to fight for the Orkun warlords’ entertainment, a show before their breeding ceremony.”
Brooke’s eyes widen. “And what happened? Did you escape?”
“We did,” I confirm. “We revolted against the Orkun and killed many of them. The rest fled the ship, and we agreed that we would keep the stolen Terran women safe. But as we made our way back to Kalix, it became apparent that our mate bond could activate with these women. One bonded with our commander. Since then, several other Kalixians have found their mates among the Terran women as well.”
I lean forward a little, holding Brooke’s gaze. “The Terrans are a part of our world now—bonding and procreating with our kind—and so we have a duty to you as we would to our own people. When we found out that there was an opportunity to rescue more of the Terran women the Orkun had abducted, we couldn’t allow it to pass us by.”
Brooke stares at me, her jaw a bit slack.
“Wow,” she whispers softly. “So… the mate bond is real? You weren’t making that up?”
I blink at her. “Yes. Of course it’s real.”
I’m not sure why she had thought it wasn’t, although I remember hearing that Terrans don’t have something so binding. I almost ask her, but she speaks up first.
“So where did the other women go? The ones you met on the ship you were held captive on?”
“They’re all on Kalix now.”
“Even the ones who aren’t—mated?” She says the last word oddly, as if it’s still very strange to her.
“Yes.” I take another bite of my stew, watching her face carefully. “They’ve all chosen to stay.”
“And is that where I’m going to go too, when we leave here? Kalix?”
“Yes, unless you wish to return to Terra. It’s not an easy process, as there are only smuggler routes and no official transport to your planet. But we can arrange it, if that’s your wish.” I pause, wondering whether or not I should tell her more. But she deserves to know the truth. “I don’t know if you will want that though, Brooke.”
“Why not?” She lowers her spoon as she takes in my serious expression.
I let out a slow breath. “The government of your people was behind the abductions. They found women who didn’t have much family, who were vulnerable—poor, jobless, homeless, those with criminal histories or who were loners—and strategically set up places where they would be inclined to go, where they would then be abducted.”
Brooke drops her spoon. Her face has gone pale, and she looks sick, her expression slightly dazed.
“What?” she whispers. “Why? Why would they do that?”
“The Orkun have—well, had—dangerous technology that can destroy civilizations,” I say carefully. I don’t wish to go into detail about my own species’ history with the Orkun, not now. “In exchange for Terran women as tribute brides, they agreed not to use this technology on Terra’s people.”
Brooke says nothing, her face remaining very still. She doesn’t move to pick up her spoon or take another bite. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but I can see the shock and betrayal on her face.
“We should get some sleep,” I say gently, trying to shake her out of her stupor a little. “We both need rest, and it’s gotten late. Tomorrow, we’ll start trying to find a way to get off Nierra, and that will be difficult. We’ll need to be sharp and alert.”
Brooke nods, licking her lips. “All right,” she murmurs. “That’s a good idea.”
I stand up, swiftly clearing the table and giving her some space. “You can have the bed,” I tell her. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ve slept in worse places.”
Given the state of the somewhat splintered boards and the fact that I’ll have only my coat for a blanket, I know it won’t be a comfortable night. But seeing the gratitude shining in her eyes as she nods makes the decision worth it.
She goes into the bathroom again to change into the slip that I purchased for her to sleep in, smoothing the fabric with her hands as she steps out. The slip doesn’t cling to her the same way the one she had on before did, but I can still see the slight outline of her nipples under the fabric, and the way it drapes over her hips reminds me vividly of how they felt beneath my hands.
I look away quickly, clearing my throat and busying myself with washing out our bowls and spoons as I hear her climb into bed, pulling the quilt over herself. I turn out the light, wrapping my coat around myself and making a space on the floor, near enough to the door that I can deal with intruders if any arrive. I keep my dagger close at hand for the same reason.
It doesn’t take long for me to doze off. As a warrior, I’m used to grabbing rest wherever and whenever I can get it. But I wake again a short while later, blinking my eyes open to see starlight shining through the thin drapes at the window.
A soft sound draws my attention, and I realize that Brooke is shivering in the bed, her teeth chattering a little. The temperature outside has dropped considerably by now, and the room isn’t well insulated.
“Zhori?” she whispers in the darkness, as if trying to see if I’m awake. “It’s… r-really cold. Maybe it would be better if we both take the bed.”
I know I should hesitate, perhaps even suggest that she put on the warmer clothes instead of the slip, although I know they can’t possibly be comfortable to sleep in. But instead, I get up without hesitation, shedding the coat and striding across the room to the bed, where I slip beneath the quilt.
I reach for her, pulling her against me, and feel her shiver deeply before relaxing against me as my body heat spreads over her skin, combining with her own internal heat to warm her.
My body reacts to the feel of her pressed against me, the way she seems to fit perfectly into the curve of my larger frame. She’s not as petite as some of the other Terran women I’ve met, taller with more rounded curves, but she still feels small in my arms.
It’s impossible not to think of running my hand over those curves, of shifting my hips forward and feeling my cock slide between her thighs. There’s very little between us, only my loincloth and the linen slip that she has on. I left the loincloth on out of respect for her modesty—otherwise I would have slept naked, as I’m accustomed to doing.
Arousal heats my blood, and I grit my teeth, trying to refocus my thoughts.
This is not what you’re here for, I tell myself sternly. Brooke is my mission, nothing more. Keeping her warm and safe is a part of that mission—I can’t leave her to freeze alone in the bed. My being here with her has nothing to do with seduction or desire, only the practicality of combining body heat on this deshing frigid planet.
But when Brooke shifts against me as she settles i
nto sleep, the pressure of her body against mine makes my cock twitch, a throb of arousal tightening my groin.
I let out a sigh as my eyes drift closed.
It’s going to be a long night.
When we wake in the morning, Brooke and I are still wrapped tightly together, my arm draped over her waist and holding her against me. The first thing I notice is that my cock is now rock hard, pressed against her ass where she’s nestled herself against me, aching for relief.
I feel Brooke come awake, and she wiggles slightly against me before going very still, plainly feeling my rigid arousal.
Thankfully, she says nothing about it. She slides away from me, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her face.
“Thanks for keeping me warm,” she says quietly, keeping her gaze on mine.
Then she gets up and goes into the bathing room, leaving me to glare down at my stubbornly hard cock and pray for it to give up before she comes back. I’m tempted to touch myself. My body is aching for release more desperately than it has in a long time. But I’m not sure how much time I have, and the last thing I want is for her to come out and catch me doing that.
Instead, I clench my jaw and think of cold snow and battle plans and slug-like aliens—anything to tamp down my arousal. The last image seems to work, sending a flood of anger through me at the memory of Savyiek touching Brooke.
Good, I think. Anger is better than desire. Anger at least has a place in completing this mission.
When Brooke comes back out, she’s swathed in the heavy trousers and thick shirt again, and that helps a little. But even the bulky, unflattering clothes can’t hide the delicate lines of her face, the bright blue shine of her eyes, or the soft fall of her light brown hair, which I desperately want to plunge my hands into.
You’re a trained warrior. Focus on the mission, I remind myself. My body is now under control enough for me to fling back the blanket and sit up. Brooke’s gaze trails over me briefly, her throat shifting as she swallows, but she quickly looks away.
“I’ll heat us up some breakfast,” I tell her. “And then we’ll go see about finding someone to get us off this deshing planet.”
The meal is beyond sub-par, a hot, grainy cereal with some fruit that looks as if it’s just this side of going too soft, but it provides needed fuel. I don’t know how long it will be before we can get back to the inn, or if we’ll have time to find food while we’re out.
I considered leaving Brooke here while I go search for a smuggler who can get us back to Kalix. But the truth is, while she’s slightly safer inside, I don’t trust the proprietor not to say something if someone comes looking. I’d rather have Brooke in my sight and under my protection, even if it means having her out in the city.
As we stride down the frigid street, me once more wrapped in my coat and Brooke with her hands plunged deep in her pockets, I glance over at her with admiration. There’s an intense, determined look on her face that I didn’t expect to see there. I expected some fear, maybe even hesitation, but she’s recovered from a number of shocks remarkably well.
Since she decided to accept my help, she hasn’t faltered at that. Rather than lamenting her situation, she’s adapted and done the best she can with what she’s been given. It’s a quality that surprises me, as it’s rare to find in extreme circumstances like these. And I admire her for it.
As we walk down the street, I notice a few aliens eyeing her. Clearly, I’m not the only one who still finds her beautiful despite the shapeless clothing. It makes me realize that I need to be more clear that she’s not fair game. That she belongs to me—for now, anyway.
I frown, trying to remember how the mated men on Kalix behave with their mates. I never paid much attention to it, more focused on training and fighting than anything else.
Just make it up as you go, I tell myself, moving closer to Brooke and putting an arm around her waist. I tighten it possessively, glancing at the other aliens, who quickly avert their eyes.
The tension that I felt in Brooke when I first touched her immediately goes out of her body when she notices them too. She seems to understand what I’m doing and leans into me, molding herself to my side. I hold her close as we make our way through the streets, and it startles me to realize that I like it. I enjoy the warmth of her that seeps through the layers of fabric, the closeness of her body, the scent of her hair and skin infusing my nostrils.
I can smell something else too—the faint scent of her arousal. It jolts something within me. I noticed it yesterday at the inn, when I saw her nude in the middle of the room, and again last night when I held her against me for warmth. She feels the same attraction I do, I’m certain of it, and that knowledge is terribly distracting. It makes it harder than ever for me to remember my purpose here.
In fact, so much of my attention is on Brooke that I almost miss the two aliens walking directly toward us.
They’re the same species as the others that were employed as bodyguards to Savyiek, broad-shouldered males with ridged foreheads and slitted eyes. They’re wearing matching tunics and trousers in the same colors, with heavy leather coats thrown over top of it all. I have no doubt that they’re more of his guards, probably out looking for us.
Krax. I curse inwardly as my shoulders tense.
We’re in the middle of the street.
And at any moment, the guards will be close enough to recognize us.
9
Brooke
Zhori’s whole body goes stiff, and his arm around me tightens even more. Before I can see what’s going on, he pulls me sharply to one side, dragging me into an alleyway and pressing me up against the wall.
He boxes me in with his arms, holding them up on either side of my face as if to shield it, his body against mine. Every inch of him is tense, and I look up into his dark blue eyes.
“Zhori—” My voice shakes a little as my stomach clenches. “What’s going on?”
“Two of Savyiek’s guards almost saw us,” he murmurs, almost too low for me to hear. “They’re walking past right now. I don’t want them to see you. Be very quiet.”
Fear surges inside of me, cold and sharp, chilling me down to the bone in a way that not even the temperature here can manage.
Oh god. No. I can’t go back to Savyiek. And I don’t want anything to happen to Zhori.
Carefully, I peek under his arm and catch a glimpse of the guards walking toward the alleyway where we’re hiding. I can’t tell if they’re passing by or coming to inspect what’s going on.
Zhori is blocking most of my view, trying to keep anyone from seeing my face. His coat is on, hiding most of his very noticeable body as well, and his hood is up to hide his horns and unusual eyes. But he’s still tall and huge, far from the type of person who blends in. He looks suspicious no matter what.
“Kiss me,” I say suddenly, the idea rushing into my head out of nowhere.
Zhori blinks, looking startled.
“What?” he whispers, and I start to explain—to tell him that what he’s doing right now looks suspicious, that it looks like he’s trying to hide something, that he might actually draw more attention to us. But the guards are coming, and there’s no time to say any of that.
So I just do it.
Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my hands to the back of his head, pulling him down to meet me as I stretch up onto my tiptoes.
His lips collide with mine, stiff and startled, cold from the frigid air. Mine are cold too, tense from the fear rippling through me, and for a moment it’s just lips touching, skin to skin, awkward and meaningless.
Then Zhori leans forward a little, obviously catching on to my intention and playing into my ruse.
He makes a noise low in his throat, angling his head a little so that my face is completely obscured by his. His body is broad and solid against mine as his forearms press against the wall on either side of my head, his mouth slanting over mine as the kiss deepens.
Zhori’s lips begin to warm, and mine do too
, softening as we both seem to forget that we’re pretending, that we’re just trying to make the guards think we’re lovers stealing a moment alone, and not fugitives.
Heat blooms between us, spreading from his body into mine and back again through the fierce connection of our lips. I can smell the sweet almond scent of his skin and feel the ghost of his exhales on my face as he begins to breathe harder. He feels warmer than ever suddenly, like a furnace, like the fucking sun, and I melt against him.
Desire crackles like sparks over my skin, lighting me up inside. I moan a little, my fingers interlacing behind his head as they sink into the cold canvas of the fabric, holding his mouth to mine.
Zhori groans in response, surging forward and pressing me harder against the wall, every part of his body from chest to thighs touching mine. His tongue sweeps over my lower lip, and I gasp, allowing him access as he plunges it into my mouth, kissing me as if he’s laying claim to me.
As if I’m really his, and this isn’t all a ruse to keep me safe.
Vaguely, I’m aware of the guards passing by, their footsteps growing louder and then beginning to fade away as they keep going, clearly fooled by our trick.
But I’m not so sure it’s a trick anymore.
I’m not sure I want to stop.
I’ve never been kissed like this. I’ve never had anyone so much as touch me like this, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like if Zhori kissed me for real, if he initiated it. Would it be this passionate, this possessive? Would he kiss me as if he were dying of thirst, as if I were air and this was the only way he could breathe?
His fingers run through my hair as he kisses me harder, his forehead pressed against mine. His cock throbs against my hip, and I feel him thrust forward a little, his body shuddering as if he’s on the precipice of taking this further, of taking me.
