Rohn: Warriors of Sangrin

by Nancey Cummings

  “Do you like your job?”

  “Most days.” His arms tightened around her. “There is always a patrol out, always ships that need maintenance, and always pilots to corral. Pilots are very flighty.”

  She snorted and lightly smacked his chest. “That’s terrible. Shame on you for that pun.”

  “Never.” He rolled her onto her back and brushed his fingers along in her side in small wiggling motions.

  She gasped and laughed sharply, twisting to get away. “No tickling!”

  When her breathing returned to normal levels, she sat upright and pulled her legs to her chest. Those velvety eyes had a questioning look about them. “Does your horn hurt?”

  “Occasionally. There are nerves at the root and in the core. The damage exposed the nerves at the time, and it had to be neutralized.” He remembered the procedure, the hollowing out of his horn and filling it with the compound. The nerves at the root remained viable. “The composite material you see expands and contracts with temperature. I can feel the pressure that generates.”

  She made a face, as if tasting something bitter. “That sounds horrible. Don’t they grow?”

  “Usually. You will see plenty of males with broken or partially regrown horns.” The warlord was one such male. “But I was exposed to a toxin that prevents my horn from regrowing.”

  “Oh.” She stroked the length of the shattered horn. “It’s very beautiful like this.”

  “It is a sign of failure.”

  “Nuh-uh, none of that.” She straddled his chest, moving remarkable speed. Grabbing his chin, she said, “You listen to me, husband. That is not a mark of failure. It is the mark of a man who was injured but got back up again. A man who keeps fighting.”

  Did she truly see him that way?

  “Is my leg a sign of failure?”

  “Of course not. Do not speak nonsense.”

  “You’re right—it’s not. It’s just a shitty thing that happened but I got back up again. Besides, I remember some hot guy telling me that losing my leg didn’t define me and that I was more than my body. My strength and courage did.” Her velvety eyes held his, demanding a response.

  “Is that what you see when you look at me? How could you see anything but a broken old male?”

  She pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “I see a man who devotes himself to helping others. I see his kindness and his consideration, and I like what I see.”

  “Thank you. Your words are sweet.” He wanted to believe they were true.

  * * *

  Nakia

  * * *

  Nakia stared up at the ceiling. The glimmer of the lamp scattered tiny flecks of light across the surface, like stars. “I’m married.”

  “For nearly twenty-four hours now,” Rohn said, voice rough with sleep.

  “And I totally had sex with my husband.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  She rolled over to face him. Shadows obscured his features, but the gold metal embedded in his horn glowed in the soft light. Meanwhile, his tawny eyes gleamed with an internal fire.

  “But I’m married now. Married,” she repeated.

  “Mated.” He yawned. “Are we still making the awkward statements?”

  “I can’t believe it. This doesn’t feel real.”

  “If you’re questioning if it happened, then I must not have done a satisfactory job.”

  She huffed with amusement. “You were satisfactory.”

  “A ringing endorsement,” he said in a flat, unamused voice.

  “Very satisfactory.” There. That should soothe his ego.

  “But not amazing.” Then, “Right.”

  He gathered her close and planted a kiss that went beyond satisfactory and straight to toe-curlingly amazing.

  Chapter 11

  Nakia

  The next morning, as promised, they were moved into larger quarters designed to accommodate a family. The three bedrooms, open living area, and kitchen seemed a bit too large for just Nakia and Rohn, but she wouldn’t complain about the closet space. The main bedroom had an ensuite cleansing room, equipped with an immense whirlpool-style tub. Nestled into an alcove, transparent high-density material surrounded it on three sides. When soaking in hot water, the effect would be like floating in space. The tub was easily Nakia’s favorite spot in the whole ship.

  A shipment of her possessions arrived a day later, along with Princess. The cat, none too happy about traveling via teleport, spent a week in quarantine. When Princess finally arrived at the new digs, she hid under the bed. Understandable. Nakia respected the needs of a stressed out kitty and let her be, but kept up a one-sided conversation to reassure Princess that her person was there and ready to bow to her whims.

  Once she grew accustomed to the surroundings, Princess loved Rohn. Adored him. She butted her head against his hands, demanding attention, and jumped into his lap the moment he sat down.

  “You’re supposed to love me,” Nakia told the spoiled thing, setting down a plate of warm food.

  “She loves that you bring her food,” Rohn said, looking up from his tablet, looking super sexy in his reading glasses.

  “She’s a traitor is what she is. I’m good enough to feed her, but she adores you.” She settled down next to him on the sofa, and they read in silence. When Princess finished her meal, she joined them, making herself comfortable on Rohn’s lap.

  She loved this, being easy in each other’s company, relaxing side by side with a book or a film or having him next to her when she woke. She did not realize how much she missed the everyday companionship of marriage. Sure, she knew she missed the big things: holidays, sex, birthdays, always having a date for a party, and children, maybe. One day. She wanted kids, but she had always believed herself too busy to start a family. Maybe if she had given into Tim’s insistence that they have a baby, they might still be together.

  Nakia pulled herself away from the path those thoughts led down. Nothing but trouble waited for her. A baby might have kept her and Tim together a few more years out of obligation, but a baby would not have fixed the fundamental problems between them. Thank God she stuck to her guns and refused to have a kid.

  Tim accused her of being selfish. What kind of woman didn’t want a baby? Didn’t she love him? Why couldn't she give this one thing to him?

  Except it wasn’t a thing. It was a baby, a person, and she wasn’t ready. Not with him.

  She reread the page on her tablet, the words not sinking in. She caught up on a lot of to-be-read pile and the stories blurred together. Not pretending to read anymore, she licked her bottom lip and stole a glance at Rohn, focused on his reading and unaware of her staring.

  She could be ready now, with Rohn.

  After the divorce, Nakia did the standard things: moved to a condo, got a dramatic haircut, and then adopted Princess. Basic divorced woman, thy name is Nakia.

  Having gone from her parents to living with roommates in college to moving in with Tim, she never had a chance to live on her own. Being on her own initially felt like a novelty. She didn’t have to get the boring cream curtains because she and Tim couldn’t agree on a color, but splurged on the the bluebird on white linen print that caught her eye. She bought the pasta sauce she liked, not the bland compromise brand, burned scented candles, and played video games well into the night because no one told her to go to bed at ten o’clock.

  After the novelty of the situation wore off, the condo felt lonely. Empty. She didn’t miss her ex, not one little bit, but she had no experience being alone.

  The cat helped ease the ache of unlocking the door every night to an empty house, cooking dinner for one, and crawling into a bed too large for one person and too cold by far. Princess wasn’t a substitute for a relationship, but Nakia knew enough to know that she shouldn’t settle for the first warm body just to have someone to cuddle up with on the sofa. She needed to be comfortable being alone before she should open to heart again, and maybe then she’d do the committed relationship
thing right the second time around.

  Fingers crossed.

  “You are smiling,” Rohn said. He pulled off his glasses and set them on the table next to the tablet.

  “What are you reading?” Curious, Nakia jumped up and grabbed the tablet.

  “Technical manuals,” he said, the root of his horns blushing as he tried to grab the tablet.

  She danced out of reach. “What your cat is telling you?” She flipped through the home screen, astounded at the sheer number of books on cats, cat behavior, and cat health. “Terran Felines: Companion and Predator. True enough,” she murmured with a nod.

  “That is my private reading material,” he protested.

  “The God in Your House, Modern Cat Care. Oh, Rohn.” He blushed as deeply as if she found a stash of porn, and his look of misery made her laugh. “One Hundred Best Cats of the Internet. A Kitten-a-Day calendar!”

  She opened that one, delighted to find it was, indeed, a kitten-a-day calendar. That man. Well, alien. Her alien. Her gray wolf was a big old softie for kitty cats.

  Rohn looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

  The temptation to tease him was so strong, but she resisted. See, she was growing, maturing, and teasing her alien husband for having a soft spot for kittens. “I don’t know why you’re reading these. I know how to care for a cat,” she said, handing him the tablet.

  “Princess has accepted me into her pride. It is a great honor and I will show the proper respect by not shaming her.” He raised his chin, as if daring her to argue.

  Shaming Princess? “She’s a cat. You’re probably head of the pride now since you’re the bigger predator.”

  Rohn opened his mouth, as if ready to argue, but his communicator went off.

  Nakia rolled her eyes, already despising that thing. In the few short weeks she’d been on board the ship, Rohn hadn’t taken a single day off. Something broke or someone called with a problem and he rushed off to fix all the world’s ailments.

  Okay, she was being a touch dramatic but she got to spend very little time with her new husband. They hadn’t made it through a single dinner together without interruption.

  “Can’t you delegate?” He had a crew. From Nakia’s vantage point, that crew could share a bit more of the responsibilities.

  “I will not be long,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her brow before leaving.

  Nakia tried to enjoy her book, a friends-to-lovers romance, but the words felt flat. She made herself a cup of minty tea and ran a hot bath.

  Built for a Mahdfel, the tub was huge. She dumped in lavender-scented soap that bubbled up nicely and eased herself in. The warmth of the water loosened the tension in her shoulders and lower back. She terminated the soothing background music the computer automatically played, enjoying the relative silence of the whirl of the ventilation system and the low-pitched hum of the ship’s engines. With the lights dimmed and the windows surrounding her, it really was like floating in space.

  Since arriving in Judgment, Nakia met more people than she would be able to remember. Everyone had been pleasant and welcoming, but the thing that stood out to her most was that all the new arrivals found their place on the ship. Mercy, the warlord’s mate, made it a feature of her little tour to point out all the activities, hobbies, occupations that Nakia could pursue. Some of the brides were happy to focus on raising their families, but others continued to pursue their careers.

  Nakia just didn’t see how the ship needed a lawyer with expertise in real estate and contract law. Maybe if there was a woman who wanted to find a loophole and get out of the marriage, but divorce rates with the Mahdfel were ridiculously low. Like, it was possible in theory but only happened once or twice. Her lawyer brain turned the issue around, wondering if the divorce rate was low not because everyone was stupidly happy but because the brides didn’t know their rights and weren’t offered fair legal representation.

  How many matches fell into a gray area and were pushed through? Or the test results tampered with? Hell, from rereading the treaty, she knew protocol hadn’t been followed on her match. The tech wanted to retest after brushing her teeth because that could throw off the results. Protocol dictated that Nakia should have been assigned to the highest compatibility. When the matches were the same, she should have gone to the eldest Mahdfel. No picking and choosing, and certainly no retesting with a strong wink-nudge-wink to skew the results.

  Ultimately, the Earth-Mahdfel Treaty remained highly controversial, nearly two decades after the Invasion. Half of Earth’s population was subjected to the guidelines of the treaty, yearly testing, possible marriage to an alien, and there was little recourse other than getting married or having a child. Not a single woman had been present during the original negotiations with the Mahdfel. Out of all the leaders of Earth, not a single one thought, “Maybe we should run this by a chick?” They were more than happy to agree to a sacrifice their gender did not have to pay. For those who were opposed to the treaty, they argued that was the very worst of the patriarchy in action.

  And if someone was genuinely unhappy, shouldn’t they have legal representation? As much as Nakia was pleased with her match to Rohn, not everyone would or could be as lucky. Still, she didn’t think the warlord would be happy if she hung out her shingle on the ship, offering her expertise in contract law to break up marriage contracts.

  Then again, this was an interstellar community. Limiting herself to Earth law seemed short-sighted. She should have a basic understanding of how laws functioned on the other planets in the Mahdfel alliance. At the very least, she should compare Earth’s treaties to the others.

  When the bathwater cooled, she dried off and downloaded a few legal guides for Sangrin and the Sangrin-Mahdfel treaty. The ship might not need a lawyer at the moment, but she had plenty to study. That would do until she found her place.

  * * *

  Rohn

  * * *

  When he finally returned, his mate was already asleep. He felt a stab of disappointment as he enjoyed watching her go through her nightly rituals of washing her face, brushing her teeth, and finally taking off her prosthetic. He wanted to be there if she grew thirsty so he could fetch a glass of water. He did not want her to go through the trouble of reattaching her leg for something so trivial. Once she was in bed, he intended for her to stay there.

  His mate curled on her side, arm outstretched to his empty side of the bed. Soft lighting spilled across her form, throwing her curves into shadows that begged for exploration. His tattoos burned at the sight of her. He could admire her physical form for ages, but nothing was as appealing as when she turned the full force of her smile on him.

  He sat at the edge of the bed and removed his boots. Princess jumped up to butt her head against his hand before inspecting the sleeping Nakia. “Do not disturb her,” he whispered, but the feline paid him little attention.

  Slipping under the covers, he found Nakia’s tablet. Curious as to what she read in bed, he turned on her device. The screen glowed with a silvery light. The most recently read document was a copy of the Earth-Mahdfel Treaty. Why would she read such a thing? The legal text was dry as could be. Passages were highlighted with notations, specifically the one regarding testing. The note read, “Bent the rules for me. How often does this happen?”

  He powered down the tablet, unwilling to read more. Bad enough that he snooped on her private reading material, but what he found fed his own insecurities. Did his mate have doubts? Was she looking for a way out?

  “Rohn,” she murmured in a sleepy voice.

  “I am here. Go back to sleep.” He climbed into the bed, the sheets warm from her body heat. He pulled her close, his hand resting on the curve of her hip.

  “Mmm.” She wiggled, pushing her ass against him. His cock responded with enthusiasm. “I didn’t get my goodnight kiss,” she said.

  “I will not let that stand,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her face.

  “Not there.” She turned toward him,
eyes heavy with sleep and lips soft.

  He claimed those lips, their melting sweetness, and poured in his devotion, intending to erase all doubt from her mind. She had belonged to him and he had belonged to her, in some fashion, since the moment he pulled her from the rubble.

  She pulled away, lips kiss-swollen. “That was nice, but I meant lower.”

  He accepted her challenge and kissed a path along her jaw and down her neck, paying special attention to the still red claiming bite. He licked the healing flesh there and she shivered.

  “Lower,” she said. He lifted the hem of her nightshirt, forging a tender path down to the valley between her breasts to her abdomen.

  “Lower.” She pushed the tangled bed sheet down, revealing her bare legs. She opened her strong thighs, revealing exactly where she wanted her goodnight kiss.

  He complied, pouring every reason for her to choose him and continue to choose him into his attentions again and again, until she trembled and gasped. Her body arched off the bed, heels digging into his shoulders, as her body shuddered with release. With her pulse still fluttering, he slid into her warm, welcoming cunt. Still in the throes of her first orgasm, her channel clenched and pulsed around him.

  He drove into her, pushing her back to the brink, and it did not take more than three strokes before he was there with her. Her moans grew to fevered cries of delight. As her release swept over her again, he spent deep inside her. He wanted to remain there, embracing her, inside her, and never left her go.

  “Mmm, I love how these glow,” she said in a sleepy voice, fingers brushing the tattoo on his arms.

  “Only for you.” She was the only female who ever inspired such passion in him and she belonged to him, only him.

  Chapter 12

  Nakia

  Rohn pushed her stomach down onto the table. The dishes clattered but nothing spilled.