Her Alien Protector: Voxeran Fated Mates #6

by Hall, Presley

  His head tips back as he roars, dropping his own weapon to grip the handle of the knife protruding from his abdomen. I expect him to topple over, but instead, he rips the blade out of his body, sending fresh blood welling forth to pour down his body. With a savage cry, he staggers toward me, and my jaw falls open as a new kind of fear rises inside me.

  He’s going to try to kill me with my own knife.

  “Willow! No!”

  Bohrir’s voice cuts above Gornok’s ragged shout, and almost before I can process what’s happening, he’s put his own body between me and the pirate leader. He knocks the bloody knife aside with the tip of his spear, then drives the wooden weapon through Gornok’s throat, impaling the broad-shouldered alien and flinging him to the ground.

  Gornok is dead before he even has a chance to make another sound, a final breath rattling out of him as his body goes limp on the grass.

  A gasping sound makes me jump, and I realize dazedly that it’s coming from me. I forgot to breathe for a moment, and now my body is demanding oxygen. I exhale shakily and then draw in a new lungful of air, glancing around the narrow pathway to see that all six of the alien pirates are on the ground, their bodies still and lifeless.

  We did it.

  It’s over.

  Bohrir strides over to me, his features strained. Before I can say a single word, he pulls me into his embrace, crushing his lips to mine.

  I arch against him, clinging to his muscled arms as I kiss him back with everything I have.

  For a moment, I was certain we’d never get to do this again. That one or both of us would be killed in this fight, and that this thing blossoming between us would never get a chance to bloom into something even bigger.

  Adrenaline is still surging through my body, making me shake from head to toe, and Bohrir holds me until the shivers stop. Even after our lips break apart, he doesn’t release me from his arms, as if he can’t quite bring himself to let go yet. I hold on to him too, splaying my hands over his broad back as I rest my cheek on his chest.

  “I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs. “I thought I was going to lose my heart.”

  His voice is strained and rough, and the idea that I’m his heart—something as necessary for his survival as the organ that beats steadily beneath my ear—makes me smile even as tears well in my eyes.

  “Thank you for coming for me,” I whisper. “For stopping Gornok.”

  Bohrir presses his lips to my hair, and this time, it’s his body that shudders. We stay like that for several more moments before we finally separate. The bodies strewn on the grass around us haven’t moved, but I’m eager to get out of here. After seeing Gornok rise after thinking he was dead once, some paranoid part of my mind can’t help worrying that he’ll do it again, even though it would definitely be impossible now.

  My mate searches the bodies quickly, sparing me from having to rifle through the blood soaked clothing. Finding nothing much of value, he shakes his head and stands up, retrieving the knife he gave me as well as another two from the fallen pirates. He cleans them on the grass before giving me one, keeping the others for himself.

  “Should we… do something with the bodies?” I ask hesitantly, willing my stomach to stay settled as I look around us.

  “No. We’ll leave them.” Bohrir’s lip curls up as he glances down at Gornok’s corpse, revealing just a hint of his elongated canines. “They’ll make good food for the carrion animals that live in the woods. It’s the fate they deserve.”

  The protective anger in his voice makes my chest warm, and I nod as he takes my hand in his.

  I don’t know the way back to the village, but thankfully, Bohrir is much better at navigating the forests of Nuthora than I am. After glancing up to trace the path of the rings that arc across the sky overhead, he starts leading me confidently through the woods. I stick close to his side, keeping a wary eye out for any animal or beast that might try to attack us.

  Now that we’ve eliminated the threat of Gornok and his fellow pirates, it would be easy to fall into the trap of assuming we’re out of danger. But the truth is, threats still lurk everywhere on Nuthora.

  I hope we still have a chance to leave with the others. I hope we’re not too late.

  A sliver of worry lodges in my chest, and I pick up my pace a little more, knowing that we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and eager to reach the village as fast as possible. Bohrir glances down at me but doesn’t comment, just matches my pace easily with his long strides.

  Just like yesterday, we don’t talk a lot as we walk, but my mate’s presence beside me is soothing anyway.

  By the time the sun starts to set and we make camp for the night, I’m well and truly exhausted. The fight took more out of me than I thought, and I could feel myself slowly crashing as the hours passed. The moment we stop walking, I stagger a little, and Bohrir loops an arm around my waist.

  “I’ll find us some food,” he says gently.

  “I can help you. There’s a secarta bush over there.” I nod in the direction of the plant, and Bohrir glances over at it and then back at me, pride gleaming in his eyes at how well I’ve gotten to know the flora of this strange planet.

  He still insists on plucking the fruit from the plant himself, along with some yeggins, telling me to rest while he gathers our dinner. I relent before too long—partly because once I sit down, I’m honestly not sure I can stand up again.

  Laden down with food for us, my mate returns to sit by my side, and I crawl into his lap after we eat. He wraps his arms around me as I nestle against him, his body reassuringly solid against mine.

  “My grandparents are dead,” I murmur softly, staring down at the grass in the waning light but not really seeing it.

  “Ah, my kira.” Bohrir’s large hand strokes my back, his other hand resting on my thigh. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Tears make my vision shimmer even as I say the words, and I reach up to brush them away. “Well, no, it’s not okay, exactly. I miss them. But at least I remember them now. And at least I know they both had long, full lives, and that they never had to worry about me after my abduction. I think knowing that they were back on Earth right now, doing everything they could to try to track me down, never guessing that they were searching on the wrong freaking planet—that would break my heart. At least they died thinking I was happy and safe. And now I am safe, which is what they would want for me.”

  “And are you happy, my kira?”

  Bohrir’s voice is quiet, almost tentative, and I lean away from him a little so that I can meet his gaze.

  “Yes,” I say simply. “I’m happy in a way I never thought would be possible. Because it’s more than just happiness. I feel free. I feel whole.”

  “You are so beautiful.” He traces his rough fingertips down the side of my face, his gaze locked on mine. “Inside and out. You are whole. And free. And loved.”

  My heart flips in my chest, and I straighten up a little. I don’t know why hearing him say those words steals my breath. After all, hasn’t he shown me in a million different ways exactly how he feels about me? Didn’t I already know he loves me on some level?

  But the sound of him pronouncing his love out loud in his deep, rumbling voice might be the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard.

  “I love you too, Bohrir,” I say, the words pouring from my lips with no hesitation. There’s nothing to think about. Nothing to wonder about. My love for him is as real as the ring that circles Nuthora. “I always will. I think maybe I always have, even when I was too scared to recognize what love felt like.”

  The smile that breaks across my mate’s face makes him look almost boyish, and when he slides his fingers through my hair and pulls me in for a kiss, I shift my position on his lap, straddling him so that his hardening cock is sandwiched between us.

  So many emotions are swirling inside me. Happiness that I’ve found my mate and have the chance to build a true future with him. Sadness at the remembered loss of my gra
ndparents. Relief that the man who stole me away from Earth is dead, unable to hurt me ever again.

  All of those feelings, plus so many more I can barely even identify, fill me up from head to toe, and I cling to Bohrir like he’s my safe haven in the eye of a storm, grinding against him as my tongue tangles with his.

  Once, I was just a fragment of a woman, torn away from my old life and cut off from my past.

  But now I’m whole.

  And everything that I am, every part of me, is Bohrir’s.

  23

  Bohrir

  I wait until the sun is fully up before I gently rouse Willow in the morning.

  She was exhausted after our fight and the trek through the woods yesterday; I could see it in her face no matter how much she denied it. Perhaps I should’ve urged her to rest instead of claiming her last night, but when she moved against me so hungrily, her lips sweet on mine and her core pressing against my cock, I couldn’t resist her.

  After making her come on my fingers and my cock, I gathered her into my arms, holding her tight as she slipped into sleep.

  Now, I reluctantly trace a finger over her face, waking her up as gently as I can. I wish I could let her sleep for as long as she likes, but urgency is beating at my ribs, making me anxious to get her back to the village.

  It’s possible that the Voxeran settlement will have been abandoned by now. Perhaps Droth was already able to reach someone on Vox, and a rescue mission has been arranged. But I don’t let myself dwell on that possibility. I have to believe there will be a chance for us to get off Nuthora, that we haven’t missed it.

  Now that one threat to my mate has been eliminated, all I can think about is creating a future where she’ll be happy and safe. Her words about her grandparents resonated with me, and I vowed silently as she spoke that I would honor their memory by caring for the woman they loved and raised.

  Even if we make it back to Vox, there’s still a vicious, usurping king to contend with, I remind myself, thinking of Droth’s uncle Drokar. Our failed rebellion against him was what got us banished to Nuthora, and he certainly won’t welcome us back with open arms. We’ll have to finish what we started before any of us will be able to live safely on that planet… but that’s a fight for another day.

  First, we need to get home.

  Willow stirs, her eyelashes fluttering as she opens her eyes. Those deep green irises gaze up at me, full of so much love and trust that it nearly knocks me backward. For a moment, we just gaze at each other, lost in each other’s eyes.

  Then she shakes her head as if to banish the last vestiges of sleep, sitting up and scrubbing at her eyes. “We need to get going. If we push hard, we should be able to make it to the village in less than two days, right?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  I help her to her feet, and we forage for food as we walk, eating our breakfast as our feet eat up the ground with long strides.

  As we go, she tells me more stories of her grandparents, new memories of them that have risen to the surface along with the memories of their deaths. Sometimes her voice turns soft and sad, and I see her wiping at her eyes with her fingertips. But many of the stories she tells me make her smile, and some of them even make us both laugh—like the tale of the time her grandfather tried to feed a Terran animal called a goose, and the thing chased him around the park, flapping its wings and hissing.

  I know she misses them. I can hear it in every word she utters. But I think she’s right that it’s better to remember them, to know that they existed, than to be spared the pain of their passing by not remembering them at all.

  Now she can hold them in her heart forever, as is right.

  We travel as far as we can, continuing on until it’s nearly full dark. I can tell Willow is reluctant to stop at the end of the day, but it would be too dangerous to traverse the wilderness of Nuthora at night. I won’t put her at risk like that, no matter how badly I want to make it back to the village.

  I wonder if Hyron has sent men to try to retrieve the interplanetary communicator, or if other criminals in Pascia have heard rumors of its existence and will be coming soon in droves. The thought clings to the edges of my thoughts like a burr, urging me on as we wake again in the morning and resume our punishing pace toward the small settlement.

  When the walls of the village finally come into view in the distance, Willow makes a small, relieved sound in the back of her throat. Despite the long distance we’ve already traveled, she breaks into a run, and I fall into pace by her side, both of us hurrying toward the welcome sight.

  “We made it,” Willow pants, slowing to a walk again as we reach the large gate. “Finally.”

  I grin down at her, taking her hand in mine. “We did.”

  But the moment we enter the village, a heavy feeling begins to fill my chest. It’s quiet. More quiet than I think I’ve ever heard it. The settlement is small and compact, so I can usually pick up the sounds of voices in the distance or warriors training in the small open space near the middle of the village as soon as I enter.

  Today, though, there’s nothing but silence.

  Willow’s grip on my hand tightens, her footsteps slowing. We keep moving forward, but with every step we take, the truth becomes more and more apparent.

  We’re too late.

  The village is empty.

  I see no signs of a massacre, no burned-out buildings or holes in the wall like there were after Churbac’s attack, and I take some comfort in that. My people, along with the Terran women, are most likely alive.

  But they’re not here.

  “No,” Willow breathes, her gaze casting about as her head swivels back and forth. “Please, no.”

  I can hear the pain and regret in her voice, but when she turns to face me, the emotion that burns most strongly in her eyes is guilt.

  “Oh, Bohrir.” She shakes her head helplessly. “I’m sorry. I never meant—I tried to—god, I’m so sorry.”

  My throat is tight with the realization that I may never see my people again, never see my home planet as long as I live. But the need to comfort my mate rises above all of that, and I pull her into my arms, smoothing her hair down with one hand as she presses her cheek to my chest.

  “It’s all right, my kira,” I murmur. “I told you before, I could never regret my choice to follow after you. I know it was what fate intended for me, and if I could go back and do it all again, I would make the same choices.” I catch her chin with my fingertips and tilt her head up, looking down at her. “You are still mine, and I am yours. As long as that’s true, we can weather any storm. We can survive anything. Together.”

  Love shines in her eyes, but the sadness and guilt don’t vanish. She shakes her head again, her lips quivering at the sides. “You gave up too much for me, Bohrir. I should’ve told you I was ready to come back sooner.”

  “Were you?”

  She blinks. “I—”

  Her words break off as she bites her lower lip.

  This is the reason I know I made the right choice. If my kira had forced herself to return to the village before she was ready, there’s a chance she would always have regretted it. That she wouldn’t have found the parts of herself she uncovered in the woods, the parts I’ve come to love and treasure so deeply.

  I drop my head to press a kiss to her lips, trying to communicate so many things through that small gesture. I want to reassure her that I will never regret the choices I made that brought us together, and that I don’t blame her for anything that’s happened. I want to show her that—

  “Bohrir?”

  The deep voice from behind me catches me by surprise, and I break apart from Willow, looking over my shoulder.

  Strome is striding up behind us, his eyes wide with a shock that mirrors my own.

  Willow lets out a startled noise, her hand flying to her mouth. Strome’s gaze flicks from me to her and back again, and a grin spreads over his face. He jogs the last few steps to reach us, clapping me on the shoulder as I turn t
o face him.

  “You made it back! Slanch, I was afraid we’d never see you again!”

  It takes a long moment for my mouth to work properly. I had resigned myself to being left behind by my fellow warriors, so the sight of Strome’s broad smile feels almost like a mirage. As though he’ll disappear if I blink.

  “What… what are you doing here?” I ask. “Where is everyone else?”

  The younger warrior grimaces. “There was another attack. Just a small band of raiders, none of them skilled in fighting. But we found out from them that word has spread around Pascia about a group of Voxerans living in the forest who are in possession of an interplanetary communicator. Droth didn’t want to risk Hyron or anyone else making a coordinated effort to bring us down and take the communicator, so he made the decision to abandon the village.”

  Excitement rushes through me, and I’m conscious of Willow standing up straighter beside me as well. “Rhesk and Vael were able to repair the device? It’s working?”

  Strome grins. “Yes. They finished working on it a day ago. So far, we haven’t been able to make contact with anyone on Vox. Droth is being very cautious, since we don’t know how the political landscape back home may have shifted, and it’s imperative that we reach out to someone who will be sympathetic to our cause. But it’s only a matter of time now.”

  Willow lets out a shuddering breath. “Then… no one has left the planet yet? We’re not too late?”

  “Not too late.” My friend chuckles, then his expression turns more serious. “In fact, it’s lucky you arrived when you did. Droth allowed me to stay behind for a day, in case… well, in case you returned. I’m supposed to leave soon to catch up with the group, so your timing is perfect.”

  Thank all the gods for that.

  A rush of gratitude fills me, and I embrace my friend, then step back and grip his shoulders. “Thank you.”

  He grins, as lighthearted and brash as ever. “Of course. I know you’d do the same for any one of us.”

  I nod. The bond between Voxeran warriors is strong, and our small group has become especially tight-knit after so many years spent living together and relying on one another in the dangerous landscape of Nuthora. These men are more than my friends. They’re my brothers.