by Tana Stone
Trista, the tribute bride he’d been matched with and the woman he’d been thinking about since he’d first seen her image, was staring at him like she’d seen a ghost.
Chapter Four
Trista knew her mouth was dangling open, but she couldn’t help it. Was this really Torven, the Drexian warrior she’d been matched with? She knew Drexians were big and brawny, and every one she’d seen so far was gorgeous, but she hadn’t expected this.
She blinked a few times as she stared at him from across the corridor. His dark uniform was rumpled, and his chocolate-brown hair tousled, but what struck her most was how dangerous he looked. The jacket of his uniform hung open—almost as if it had been ripped open in a scuffle— exposing a leather cord around his throat that had what looked like a massive, ebony shark’s tooth hanging from it. Dark stubble covered his face, and his gold eyes were lined in black. He looked every bit the criminal she’d been told he was, and she took a small step back.
Trista knew a bad boy when she spotted one, and this guy was trouble, with a capital T. Which explained why her hands were clammy, and all the blood had raced to her lower body.
“We shouldn’t be here,” she said to Reina, who’d gone mute beside her.
The Vexling nodded, and put a hand on Trista’s elbow to steer her away. “The next time you insist on something, remind me not to listen to you.”
Trista knew her liaison was right. The only reason they were standing in the corridor near the hangar bay was because she’d insisted. Now that she thought about it, Trista wasn’t sure why it had been so important she get a glimpse of him in person. Curiosity?
Reina had been against it, claiming there was no good reason to see him, since she would be matched with another warrior once Torven was convicted. According to Reina’s sources, the evidence against him was significant, and a conviction was all but guaranteed.
After repeating his name in her head for weeks, Trista couldn’t let him go so easily. Even if she ended up with someone else, she felt the need to see him and know what might have been. Now, looking at him, she knew Reina had been right. She shouldn’t have come.
She instinctively glanced down at the jeans and black T-shirt she’d thrown on, and wished she’d chosen something else. Why did she suddenly care what she looked like? It wasn’t like she’d ever see him again, and it didn’t matter what he thought about her, even though part of her wished she’d tried to look more feminine. Strangely, she didn’t want this convict and complete stranger to be disappointed with her.
Snap out of it, she told herself as she willed herself to move. You don’t need to impress him.
Torven’s eyes held hers, and her pulse fluttered. She had an urge to shake herself, and at the same time run away screaming, but her feet were like lead.
Not again, she thought, as she groaned inwardly. What was it about bad boys that had always attracted her? It had never ended well in the past, but that clearly didn’t stop her from practically gaping at the towering warrior who would have looked at home in any biker bar on Earth.
Reina tugged at her arm and she took a step, her eyes never leaving Torven.
“You’re my mate.” His voice was a low rumble echoing in her bones.
Reina made a small squeaking noise, and Trista could sympathize. Something about his tone made her feel like a mouse caught in a trap. She couldn’t move away from him, even though she knew she should.
“Trista,” Reina pulled her, her voice insistent. “We should go.”
Torven’s eyes drifted briefly to the Vexling, before returning to her. “Trista from Iowa.”
Her name sounded exotic the way he pronounced each syllable slowly, and with emphasis. He even made the word “Iowa” sound more interesting.
Before she could let Reina drag her away, Torven had crossed the corridor to stand inches away from her. The guards around him reached for their blasters, but Dorn ordered them to stand down.
Reina did not release her arm, but tightened her grip. Torven ignored the woman as his eyes seemed to study her, moving from her face and down her body.
Trista’s cheeks flushed. She wasn’t used to being stared at by men, and certainly not being given such a thorough once-over. She couldn’t help thinking that he must be disappointed as his eyes returned to hers.
He raised a large hand to her face, cupping her chin in his palm and stroking her cheek with his thumb. “So soft and small.”
Her heart hammered in her chest so loudly she was afraid he could hear it. “Not that small.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “To me you are.”
His eyes went to her lips, and he brushed his thumb over them. She almost moaned out loud, and her knees felt like they might buckle.
“Trista.” Reina’s voice jerked her back to reality.
What was she doing, letting herself get pulled under the spell of another good-looking bad boy who was nothing but trouble? Hadn’t she finally escaped all that? Being taken onto the space station had been the ultimate do-over, a chance to reinvent herself and make the right choices, this time. And that did not include falling for aliens being charged with treason, no matter how hot they were.
She pushed his hand away. “I’m not your mate anymore.”
Something flickered across his face and he took her hand in his, lifting it and kissing her open palm more gently than she would have expected from such a hulking guy. “You will always be mine.”
She snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned at the same time one of the guards reached for Torven’s arm. He spun and disarmed the man so quickly Trista barely saw it happen.
Reina gasped and dropped Trista’s arm as she put both of her hands to her cheeks.
Torven turned and wrapped one arm around Trista’s waist, pulling her flush to him with a single jerk. “I am sorry. I did not want things to be this way.”
Before she could scream, he held the blaster to her side. The guards froze, even though their blasters were trained on him.
“I’m leaving the station, and I’m taking the Earth female with me. Unless you want the death of a tribute bride on your hands, you’ll step aside.”
“Let him go,” Dorn said. “We can’t let him kill the tribute.”
Trista knew she and her fellow Earthlings were important to the Drexians, but as she watched all the blasters lower and the guards look on with tortured frustration, she understood implicitly just how valuable each human woman had to be.
Reina’s usually gray skin had lost several shades of color, looking pasty as Torven backed her down the hall. Trista hoped the high-strung alien wouldn’t blame herself, although her wringing hands already implied otherwise.
Even though her heart was thumping in her chest, she did not believe he would hurt her. His grip on her wasn’t painful, and as he backed her down the corridor, it felt like they were almost dancing backward with her feet barely skimming the floor.
The Drexian guards followed them, but Dorn held them back and continued to instruct them to hold their fire.
“This is where we leave you,” Torven said, when they reached a set of wide curved doors. “Don’t follow us.”
The doors slid open and he pulled her through, no longer holding her flush to him, but pulling her behind with one hand as he darted across the wide hangar bay. Mechanics and pilots moved out of the way as he sent a few sprays of blaster fire into the air.
“Everyone get back,” he yelled, his voice echoing off the metal walls and floor. A station-wide alarm began wailing, and he cursed under his breath.
Torven rapidly located a black-hulled shuttle, and waved the blaster for her to go inside first. Once inside, Trista sank into one of the pilot seats and watched as he easily powered up the ship, his blaster never lowering. The interior of the ship was as dark and sleek as the outside, with a wide, shiny control panel flashing with lights.
The shuttle vibrated as the engine spun up. She’d never been on a spaceship before. Well, she’d been on one whe
n she was brought to the station from Earth, but she’d been unconscious for that trip, so it didn’t count. She’d only ever flown on an airplane once, and that hadn’t gone well. She quickly scanned the cockpit. Nope, no barf bags. Damn, she hoped she didn’t puke all over him.
Closing her eyes tightly, she cracked them open only when she felt him strapping her into the seat with the safety harness. His face was only inches away from hers as he quickly tugged the straps snug across her chest. He met her gaze, then dropped it as he fell into his own seat, his hands flying across the screen.
From the corner of her eye, Trista saw figures running toward them as the ship shot forward, flew across the flight deck, and rocketed through the wide mouth of the hangar bay and out into space, banking a sharp left as it flew away from the Boat.
Trista swallowed hard as Torven entered a series of commands. Then, they were pushed back into their seats, the stars transforming into streaks of light. She put a hand over her mouth to keep from being sick and to keep herself from crying. She didn’t need to look back to know the station was gone, along with the only people she knew.
Chapter Five
“Are you okay?” Torven asked, giving a quick glance at the petite woman next to him. She’d opened her eyes, but her fingers still dug into the armrests of the chair.
“You kidnapped me.” She sounded more shocked than frightened, which was good. Despite dragging her off the station with a blaster pointed at her, he had not wanted to terrify the female.
After looking at her image for weeks, he felt like he knew her already, and that she was a part of his life. When he’d seen her on the station, the sense of familiarity had amplified. Being close to her had unlocked all the longing and desire that had been building within him, and touching her was like being jolted by electricity. His fingers still tingled from where he’d run them over the softness of her face.
“I am sorry.”
She stared at him, her pretty pink mouth hanging open. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”
He didn’t reply. What could he say? He had snatched a tribute bride off the Boat while threatening to shoot her. His stomach tightened as he thought of the looks on the guards’ faces. If they hadn’t thought he was guilty before, they certainly did now.
His actions had not been those of an honorable Drexian warrior, much less one who belonged to Inferno Force. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about how quickly his life had unraveled. Had he made a horrible mistake by escaping the station and becoming a fugitive? A desperate fear clawed at him, and forced him to take deep breaths and concentrate on the readouts on the console.
He looked over at her again, then stood quickly and put one hand around her neck.
“What the hell?” She struggled, her eyes wild as she stared up at him.
“Hold still.” He used his other hand to lift her hair and feel the back of her neck. There it was—the small scar. He knew from other Drexians that tribute brides were implanted with trackers. That would have to go if he didn’t want a fleet of Drexian trackers on his tail.
Torven dropped her hair and pulled a curved blade off the wall behind him. “Don’t move if you don’t want to lose your head.” He leaned her forward and made a tiny, razor-sharp incision over the scar, trying to ignore the sound of Trista sucking in her breath. He replaced the blade and squeezed the skin around the cut, plucking out the small chip that emerged. Dropping it to the floor, he ground it beneath his heel.
“Here.” He pulled her own hand up and pressed against the wound. “Apply pressure until I bandage it.”
Torven opened one of the built-in cabinets and removed the med kit, popping it open and retrieving a skin graft bandage. He pushed Trista’s hand out of the way and held the square bandage to her skin, watching it meld into the flesh and stop the bleeding. “There. That should do it.”
He replaced the med kit and dropped back in his chair.
A hand slapped his arm. Torven looked over to see the blonde glaring at him, her eyes glittering with tears as she felt the back of her neck. “You Drexians may think you can just snatch women from Earth whenever you like, but I’m not your property.” Her voice rose an octave. “And you can’t just cut things out of me like that.”
“I apologize if I hurt you. I had to remove the tracker so they can’t follow us. And I do not think you are my property,” he said. “You are my mate.”
She swiped at her eyes. “Not according to Reina and Serge. They said you were a criminal, and I was being matched to another warrior.”
Torven’s heat rose. “I am innocent, and you are mine.”
She appeared to shrink into herself, her shoulders hunching forward. “Not unless I agree. You can’t force me.”
He recoiled at the word. “I would never force you. You are mine to protect.”
She gave a small snort of laughter. “When have I heard that before?”
Torven studied her as she pulled her arms in tight, folding them across her chest. She was afraid of him. He’d been stupid and impulsive to bring her, and now she was terrified of him.
“I’m afraid it was necessary to bring you with me,” he said, forcing himself to speak calmly. “I needed to get away before I was convicted for something I didn’t do.”
She cut her eyes to him. “So, you committed a crime to prove you didn’t commit a crime?”
Torven opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. When she put it like that, his plan didn’t sound so great. “I would not expect you to understand.”
“What’s to understand? You used me to get off the station because you knew the guards wouldn’t risk hurting me, and your buddy Dorn didn’t try to stop you, because he wanted you to get away.” She let out a breath. “So, what’s the plan? Use me as leverage until you somehow prove you’re innocent? Ransom me for your freedom?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
Trista shrugged. “This isn’t the first really bad and seriously illegal plan I’ve been roped into.”
Torven watched her as she returned her gaze to space. Perhaps the Earth female wasn’t as fragile as he’d thought, although it seemed clear she was scared of him. He couldn’t help letting his eyes wander down to the soft curves of her body, especially the way the safety straps crisscrossing her chest seemed to push her breasts up. The black shirt she wore was thin and loose, but he’d noticed on the station that her pants were not. Those hugged the swell of her hips and ass, which he’d felt when he’d pressed her body against his.
Torven looked away as his cock begin to harden and gave his head a brusque shake. He could not afford distractions. Not when his life was at stake. Not even from his mate.
She’s not your mate anymore, a little voice in the back of his head reminded him. Convicts don’t get tribute brides. Not that this one wants you, anyway. Not after you’ve terrified her.
He grunted as he checked the readouts on the console, making sure the cloaking technology was working properly before bringing them out of light speed and laying in a course.
He would not be a convict once he proved that he was being framed. Dorn had said he would help him, and Torven trusted his Inferno Force brother with his life. He’d have to, unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life running from his own people.
“Hello?” Trista’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Earth to Torven.”
He blinked at her a few times. “You know my name.”
Her cheeks colored. “They told me your name a while ago.”
He noticed her looking at the flame insignia on his uniform. “Inferno Force.”
She nodded. “Like Dorn.”
“Like Dorn,” he said.
“So, you guys are supposed to be the biggest badass Drexians, right?”
“Something like that,” he said, suddenly aware that his clothes were wrinkled and dirty, as was he. He hadn’t been allowed to change or bathe before reaching the station, and he knew he must look terrible.
She, on th
e other hand, carried the faint scent of flowers. He’d smelled it when he’d stood close to her, and if he inhaled deeply, he could smell it now. He jerked his attention back to the controls.
Focus, Torven.
“So, what’s the plan?” Trista asked. “We clearly can’t stay in this shuttle forever.”
Torven swallowed hard. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have a plan beyond getting off the space station, but she was right. Living on the shuttle wasn’t an option. Not only would it eventually be tracked, but there was a limited supply of rations.
He swiped at the console and a star chart appeared on the screen. Scanning nearby space, he located an inhabited planet. Class M. Trading colony. The perfect place to lay low for a while, because so many different ships would be coming and going, and one shuttle wouldn’t be noticed. He plotted a course for the planet.
“We just need to evade the Drexians until Dorn can come up with the evidence to clear us.”
“I think you mean ‘you,’” Trista muttered.
“You are with me now,” he said. “And you are keeping me from being blown out of the sky. My people would never risk you.”
“Would you?”
He held her eyes. “I would die to protect you. You are my mate.”
She looked away, her cheeks becoming a mottled patchwork of pink. “You don’t even know me. How do you know you’ll even want me?”
He thought of how much he did want her, and his cock stiffened. He grunted and looked away, turning his focus back to the console. “I know.”
“Listen,” Trista said. “I know you guys are big on honor and duty, but you don’t have to do this.”
“Do what? Defend myself against false accusations?”
Trista waved a hand at him. “No, you should probably do that. I mean, me. I’m sure you could request a supermodel, since you’re part of Inferno Force.”
