Tchaikovsky: Stargazer Alien Barbarian Brides #3

by Black, Tasha

  Self, Other, same. He felt the words rather than hearing them.

  Then he realized.

  He had taken on the shadowy form of his opponent.

  The thing hung in the air before him for another instant, then dove at him like a missile.

  Peter braced himself, but when it pierced him, the pain was mental rather than physical. He was shot through with its blinding hatred.

  But he rallied, pulling back just enough to keep a tiny part of himself untouched.

  They circled one another now, long and lanky, tendrils billowing behind them, like dancing ghosts.

  Peter concentrated and formed himself into a point.

  But when he leapt forward, his double merely parted in the center, leaving Peter on the other side.

  In frustration, Peter grasped at a tree branch.

  He was surprised to feel himself take on form.

  His claws locked onto the branch and he swung himself forward.

  The smoky thing did the same, but then let go of the branch to swing its solid claw at him.

  Peter ducked just in time.

  The blow nearly knocked a large limb off the tree behind him.

  He lost track of his actions as the fight went on. They swung and swooped, smashing at each other.

  Exhaustion tugged at his consciousness. Peter was unused to this form. He was spending too much time going from solid to smoke and back. It was draining him.

  The moment the thought was in his head, the other creature seemed to sense it.

  It redoubled its efforts, pushing Peter beyond his limit, until at last he was cornered against a huge tree.

  The thing drew back as if to hit him.

  Come on, Peter, move, he told himself. Just finish it, then you can rest.

  Instantly, the thing enveloped him.

  It felt like an ice bath. Peter’s every cell tried to escape the frigid embrace. But he was indelibly fixed in place.

  Every feeling of helplessness he had ever experienced came back to him.

  Peter was a child aboard a shuddering skiff, low on fuel, grandmother low on patience, three growing boys and not enough food for one.

  Peter was a young man, empty pockets, heart full of grief for his ailing grandmother.

  Peter was shackled to the wall of a pleasure ship, despair engulfing him.

  Peter was watching his blood mate put their child in the arms of a one-eyed woman.

  There was no point fighting. The cruelty of the universe would always crush its beauty.

  The smoky thing seized his weakness, pressed further inside.

  Yes, it told him.

  He saw the tiny tendrils embracing the whole ship, the other two abandoned cruisers, and the space between.

  Then he saw an infant sized cloud of it swirling in a storage bay, boiling and bubbling with wrath.

  It stretched its tentacles out of a crate with a familiar marking:

  Property of The Stargazer

  Impossible.

  But he was seeing it. Some part of this vile thing was on The Stargazer.

  The evil shadow tightened its embrace on him.

  No, he screamed inwardly.

  His mate and child were on that ship.

  It was an impossible fight, but Peter was willing to fight until the end now, ready to beat the odds to save Angel and Tchai.

  The thing let him go and he staggered at the absence of numbing cold.

  It came for him again, claws hardened to kill, but somehow missed its mark.

  No.

  It wasn’t coming for him.

  The thing streaked past him, heading for the doors to the biodome.

  Peter flew with it, unsure what it was planning, but ready to take advantage of its distraction to mount his own attack.

  They reached the door together, tumbling over one another.

  It reached out with a wicked claw and opened the door.

  On the other side was something impossible.

  Peter searched his faceted brain for an explanation but only came back with a handful of scattered words.

  Mate, love, fierce, mine…

  Angel stood tall and brave on the other side of the door.

  “Do you want a taste of me?” she asked in a fearsome voice.

  He watched, frozen, as she extended her baton and flicked the switch.

  His shadow-mind recoiled in horror at the flash of fiery sparks.

  She is going to kill me, he thought to himself. There was no way for her to tell that he was one of the shadow beasts.

  Angel strode forward and thrust her baton mercilessly into the shroud-like form of his enemy.

  There was a terrifying high-pitched squeal as it went stiff and then burned off into nothing like butter on a hot pan.

  Angel turned to Peter, her eyes on fire.

  He would be next.

  He cringed, forgetting how to shift, how to show her who he was.

  “It’s okay,” she told him gently. “You can come back now.”

  How did she know?

  She collapsed the baton and slid it back in her pocket.

  He watched as she stretched her hand toward him, slowly, as if she were trying to gentle a wild thing.

  He held still and drank in her touch.

  It was warm as his grandmother’s stew, sweet as Tchai’s kisses.

  Where the shadow had shown him his worst emotions, Angel’s touch brought him back to all that was right and good. Family, kindness, love and hope filled him to the brim.

  Only then did he feel the tingle that allowed him to come home to himself.

  “How did you know?” he whispered when he was back in human form once more.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “But how did you know?”

  “I’m your mate,” she said simply. “I’ll always know. Now come on, get up, we have to get out of here.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “To save you,” she said. “Come on. We’re in danger. We have to go now.”

  He was on his feet in a heartbeat, ready to run a thousand miles if she asked.

  She grabbed his hand and they ran for the dock.

  23

  Peter

  Peter leapt into the ancient cabin cruiser after Angel.

  “Did you pilot this thing?” he asked her.

  “Close the door,” she hissed.

  He slammed it behind himself, grasping the back of his seat as the whole craft lurched forward without warning.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re—”

  “Sit,” she commanded.

  He sat, and suddenly they were shooting through the open dock.

  Stars hung glimmering in the velvet darkness.

  But Peter’s eyes were locked on Angel’s hands as she struggled over the controls.

  “Oh no,” she murmured, looking through the shield at the sky.

  Peter turned.

  One star winked more brightly than the others.

  No.

  No, it was something close up and familiar…

  A tiny drone, latched onto a large metallic cylinder.

  “Is that BFF21?” he murmured, amazed.

  “Shit,” Angel whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “What’s happening?” Peter asked.

  “We sent the drones out to knock the ships out of the web,” Angel said.

  “How?” Peter asked, bewildered.

  “Electromagnetic pulse,” she replied. “It was Raina’s idea. Once the hulls are electrified, the ships are supposed to shoot right out of the web.”

  “EMPs,” Peter breathed. “Brilliant.”

  “Yeah, except that we’re too close,” Angel said.

  Peter looked out the window again only to see BFF21 fleeing back toward The Stargazer without her EMP payload.

  “Hold on,” Angel cried.

  Their little ship suddenly banked downward and to the right.

  Before he could react, a shock
wave shot through the cabin cruiser, knocking out the lights and the whir of the ventilation system.

  He wrapped his arms around Angel as he felt his hair lift.

  Everything in the little vessel floated upward.

  Through the top portal they watched as the enormous abandoned cruiser shot free of the web at a tremendous speed, passing over them by inches.

  Angel clung to him.

  A loud electronic clunk shook the ship.

  At first Peter thought they had been hit. But the little ship didn’t move.

  Dim lights reappeared on the control panel and the whir of the ventilation kicked back in.

  “Back-up power,” Angel breathed. “Now the system just needs to reboot.”

  She stared at the panel expectantly.

  Peter couldn’t suppress a small chuckle.

  “What?”

  “In a ship of this vintage,” he explained, “the rebooting process isn’t quick. We’ll probably be able to head back to The Stargazer in an hour or so.”

  As if in confirmation, a small progress bar appeared on the navigation screen. It showed a barely perceptible sliver, and the number below read zero point zero five percent.

  They watched in silence for moment, waiting for it to change.

  0.06

  “Oh,” Angel said.

  She turned to him. He wondered what came next. Surely she would be angry with him.

  She grabbed him and pulled him close, burying her face in his chest.

  Peter pressed his lips to her hair, grateful to every god in the sky that they were saved.

  “I was so scared,” Angel murmured into his chest. “I thought I had lost you.”

  He held her closer, wishing he could incorporate her into his own body, so that they could never be separated again.

  “Me too,” he told her.

  “It’s my fault,” she said. “I knew how upset you were, and I didn’t tell you what was happening. I wasn’t actually going to let Mama turn Tchai in. I would never do that. She just wanted to hold him.”

  “You tried to tell me,” Peter admitted.

  “I didn’t know you were going to leave the ship,” Angel said. “I didn’t know that you could.”

  He wondered for a moment if she meant that he had no ship for escaping, or if she meant the mate bond.

  “It felt like my soul was being torn to shreds,” she said softly.

  His own chest ached at the thought.

  “And our bond is only half-formed,” he said.

  “What do you mean ‘half-formed’?” she asked, pulling away to look up at him, her dark eyes serious.

  Peter ran a hand through his hair.

  It was better to tell her the truth.

  “I didn’t want to scare you,” he admitted. “But there’s more to the bond. We feel it already, but for us to be fully joined we have to consummate.”

  “You mean like… intercourse, right?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  He nodded, wondering how the technical term could sound so sexy in her purring voice.

  “And I have to bite you,” he added.

  “You have to what?” she asked.

  “You’ll like it,” he assured her. “Or so I am told.”

  Her cheeks went pink.

  Happiness bubbled in his chest and he lifted her in his arms.

  Her laughter spilled over him like a waterfall.

  It was the most natural thing to kiss her sweet lips as he lowered her again.

  Angel pressed her mouth to his. He could feel her relief and her hunger, flowing to him in equal measures.

  Fear pressed in for a moment and he nearly swooned under its spell.

  Love for this woman meant ceding control over his emotions. It meant honoring her free will, which might lead her away from him. It meant surrendering to his lust…

  She pulled away, sensing his pain.

  “We’ve been moving so fast,” she whispered to him, cupping his cheek in her hand. “Let’s slow down and take our t—”

  But she didn’t get to finish.

  Her compassion brought him to his knees. He was strong and whole again, his only vulnerability the fierce need to protect her, to claim her.

  He pulled her close, fed on her mouth again, desperate to taste her.

  She whimpered lightly, pressing herself closer.

  Peter never pictured sealing their bond in an ancient cabin cruiser, floating aimlessly in open space, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they had been in the open market on Zylak-Prong, he would have taken her then and there.

  He lifted her in his arms and backed through the automatic curtain into the sleeping chamber.

  He scrambled to free her from her clothes, and at last tumbled onto the bed, which automatically softened to accept them.

  Angel’s eyes widened.

  “It’s supposed to do that,” he told her.

  She threw her head back and laughed.

  He leaned in to nuzzle her neck and felt her excitement communicate back to him through their bond.

  His own body throbbed with need.

  “Peter,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  He kissed her forehead, her eyelids.

  “Are you ready?” he asked her.

  “You’ll never leave me again?”

  He closed his eyes, the guilt washing over him.

  “I was afraid,” he told her.

  “That I was giving Tchai away,” she said.

  “That you were controlled by someone,” he said carefully. “That you were allowing yourself and Tchai to be taken advantage of. After what I experienced it’s hard not to see that dynamic of your relationship with Mama. But I should have thought it through. I can see that you had no choice.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry I ran, Angel,” he told her. “I will never do it again. But more than that, I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you.”

  “I will earn your trust, if it takes me a lifetime.” Her voice was so earnest, it nearly broke him.

  “You don’t have to, my love,” he told her. “It’s yours.”

  She smiled up at him through tears.

  He bent to kiss her again, softly, then with a growing passion.

  She was trembling in his arms already, shivering with need.

  He kissed his way down her neck, showering her beautiful breasts with kisses, reveling in the warmth of her soft curves.

  Angel moaned lightly and ran her hands through his hair.

  He kissed his way down her belly, eager to taste her honey once more.

  Angel let her thighs fall open for him and he ran his tongue along her opening.

  He could hear her nails scratch the sheets.

  He licked her again, pressing his tongue just inside.

  Her hips bucked lightly.

  He smiled and lapped at her, traced around her clitoris with a finger and flicked it with his tongue.

  “Ohh,” Angel moaned.

  The sound was pure rapture.

  He toyed with her more, licking, sucking, easing a finger just inside, until she was panting with lust. The scent and sounds of her were intoxicating. Peter was lost in her, lost in the demanding rhythm of her need.

  At last her thighs stiffened and he knew he was pushing her too far.

  “Good girl,” he murmured against her hot little sex, withdrawing his finger.

  She whimpered and clenched the sheets again, hips quivering.

  24

  Angel

  Angel lay back on the bed. Need pulsated through her body, but it was her heart that longed for this joining.

  Peter crawled on top of her, covering her body with his.

  His dark eyes flashed with lust, but his expression was one of tender concern.

  “I love you, Angel,” he told her.

  “I love you, Peter,” she said.

  “Are you ready?”

  She inclined her head, allowing him access to her neck.

  But he pressed a kiss
to her lips instead. She could feel his gratitude and excitement wash over her through the link between them.

  What will it be like when we are fully mated?

  But he was already kissing her neck, snaking a hand between her thighs to tease her needy sex.

  “Please,” she whispered, shocked at her own shameless begging.

  He removed his hand and replaced it with his cock.

  Angel moaned as she felt his heated length against her.

  He pressed inside slowly, allowing her to stretch around him until she had finally taken him all.

  A wave of his ecstasy washed over her and she tightened around him, overcome.

  “Angel,” he groaned.

  She lifted her hips, urging him on.

  He withdrew from her and filled her again, slowly, driving her wild.

  “Please,” she whined, sinking her fingers into his enormous biceps.

  His jaw tightened and he gazed down at her, his eyes hazy with lust as he thrust into her again and again.

  The pleasure was building up inside her. Angel closed her eyes.

  She could feel his mouth at her neck, nuzzling.

  Then he slid a hand between them to massage her clit with his thumb.

  Fireworks went off behind her eyelids.

  She hardly felt it when Peter’s teeth sank into her neck, there was only the ecstasy of his body on hers, in hers, and a need so deep she thought she would drown in it.

  He licked her neck when he was finished, lapping at her tender skin frantically as he filled her again and again.

  Suddenly it was as if a veil had lifted between them.

  She felt his brutal desire, as hot and real as her own.

  The sensations threatened to tear her apart. Angel floated in an agony of desperate lust, so close, so very close…

  Just as she nearly lifted off the bed, she felt him swell impossibly inside her.

  She cried out and clung to him as their shared climax carried them over the edge into the throes of a rapture that seemed to go on and on.

  At last she was trembling in his arms as he pressed kisses to her eyes and forehead once more.

  Cherished.

  She felt the emotion to her core.

  He rolled over, pulling her onto his chest.

  Peace.

  It was peaceful.

  “Sleep now, my beautiful mate,” he murmured into her hair. “When we reach The Stargazer we have one more adventure ahead of us.”