Kept From the Deep: Venora Mates Book Two

by Octavia Kore

  His appetite having disappeared, Nuzal stood and dumped his half-eaten meal into the disposal. When he’d left her in the cell with the Venium, Jun had seemed fine, but he knew from his lifetimes as a warrior that some beings were better at hiding their pain.

  With a hasty farewell to his superior, Nuzal took off down the hall toward the cells. The guard frowned when he barreled through the doors, but made no attempt to stop him.

  Row after row of prior test subjects filled the cells on either side of him, some of them covered in scales or feathers, while others brushed their shaky hands through the soft fur that now grew on their backs and arms.

  Those who had gained other attributes like telekinesis, psychometry, and telepathy were located farther down the corridor, kept under strict guard. They had been the most interesting cases of his career, but when he looked at all of these subjects, these humans, he wondered how much of them was still human.

  As he neared her cell, Nuzal’s heart began to race. Pained noises and hushed words reached his ears, and he propelled himself forward, coming to a stumbling halt in front of the forcefield.

  Brin sat on the cold metal floor, his hands running the length of Jun’s back as she gasped and writhed in his lap. Her knees were pulled up into her chest, and she clutched at the Venium’s arm, burying her face into his thigh.

  “What did you give her?” the male growled as his eyes darted up to Nuzal’s face. “She can’t stand, can barely move she’s in so much pain.”

  “It’ll stop,” Jun hissed, swatting at Brin’s chest. “I just need my medicine. Please…”

  When she turned her head, Nuzal felt his entire body tighten in fear, something he hadn’t experienced since his first lifetimes as a warrior. The terror of his first battle was something he didn’t think even the rebirth process would be able to erase. If her obvious pain hadn’t given it away, the ashen color of her skin and the exhaustion on her face told him something was wrong.

  “I only gave her a mild sedative,” Nuzal said, frowning down at the male. “It shouldn’t have caused this reaction.”

  “Shouldn’t have? You’re not even sure?”

  “It’s been extensively tested on humans––” Jun moaned again, her nails digging into the Venium’s dark skin as she wriggled. “I need to take her with me. I cannot help her here, Venium,” Nuzal said.

  The male’s lip curled, and a long glistening fang peaked out as he growled. “Why should I trust you?”

  “Is there any other option?” he countered. “I’m going to open this cell and you’re going to hand her to me.” He watched as the male’s eyes darted toward the corridor and he growled. “Do not even think about it, Venium. Even if you were to get past me, where would you go? There are guards at each exit, and several of them roam throughout the cells. Will you be able to fight all of them off and look after your injured mate? Would you risk her life?”

  The male’s blue gaze bore into his as he considered, before he finally shook his head. “I wouldn’t risk her. It’s all right, Shayfia,” he whispered to the female when she whimpered.

  Nuzal disabled the forcefield as the Venium stood slowly. The moment Jun was placed in his arms, color splashed against his plating, casting its brilliance on her pale skin. The brush of the Venium’s hand against his arm sent a tingle of awareness through him, but there was no time to explore what any of this meant. He tucked it away in mind, saving it for a more appropriate time.

  “I’ll return as soon as there’s news.” He stepped back, watching as the shield fell back into place, before turning on his heel. Nuzal went as fast as he could, trying his best to keep from jarring her body as he sprinted down the corridor toward surgery.

  “My medicine,” Jun mumbled against his chest. “I need my bag.”

  “There was no bag with you,” Nuzal told her. The doors to surgery slid open, and he turned to the left, heading toward the room he’d used to operate on Brin the first cycle they were on the ship. “You know what’s making you sick?”

  Jun nodded weakly. “Kidney disease.” She sucked in a breath as he shifted her in his arms. “Heart disease and––shit!”

  “I’m sorry,” Nuzal grunted as he clipped the corner of the wall with his shoulder, jolting her sharply. The air in his lungs was forced up through his crest, creating a low rattle. It was a sound he couldn’t ever recall making, but it seemed to settle her pained movements.

  He slipped between the double doors as they opened for him, mulling over the information she’d given him. With murmured apologies, Nuzal laid her out on the table, gently moving her onto her back.

  Large brown eyes stared up at him as he brushed the long dark strands of hair from her face. He let his fingers linger on her cheeks, reluctant to break their physical connection, but the shimmer of the lights as they receded from his palms reminded him that he needed to be careful. This was unknown territory and the feeling this contract stirred within him was addictive.

  Concentrate, Nuzal, he chided himself, pulling his hand away. Your female is unwell.

  His female? Gods help him, he was losing his mind. Perhaps it was time to have a conversation with Erusha. He’d never been this way with any of the other test subjects, so what was it about this female and her mate that made him feel this way?

  “I’m going to put you under––”

  “No!” Jun tried to push herself up, but the pain forced her back down onto the table. “Please, just get me my medicine.”

  The small panel on the side of the operating table lit up under his hand, and he tapped the icon in the right corner, praying she wouldn’t put up a fight.

  “I will fix this, female. Let me help you.” The forcefield activated, creating a small chamber around her, sealing her inside as a sedative was released.

  He saw the panic in her eyes as she realized what was happening, and it took everything in him not to reach inside to comfort her. When she’d finally drifted off to sleep, Nuzal hit the alert icon on the screen, sending out a request for assistance.

  Her vitals began to scroll across the holo projection above the table, making Nuzal frown. The numbers were concerning.

  The first assistant to answer his call was Qrien, one of their youngest males. Like Nuzal, he’d once been a warrior, but with only two sets of eyes, Qrien had been designated to an intellectual position.

  “Where do you need me, sir?” he asked, all business.

  Nuzal appreciated the fact that he didn’t waste any time.

  “She’s already under. Prepare a full tray. We’ll start with the transcorp, but I have a feeling we’ll need to go in.”

  Two more males rushed into the room and Nuzal called out instructions as he slid open one of the sleek wall panels, revealing an equipment storage space. The transcorp, a small wand-shaped instrument, sat nestled within its slot. Nuzal grabbed it, pressing his thumb into the little scanner on the side so that it could read his print. A green light flashed, indicating that it was ready for use.

  The healing gel had replaced the forcefield, encasing Jun within its warmth as it worked to maintain her body’s necessary functions. Nuzal placed the transcorp on the tray and dipped his hands into the liquid gloves Qrien held out for him.

  “Monitor her vitals,” Nuzal said as he picked the wand up. He slid his hands into the gel, scanning Jun from her head down to the very tips of her toes. It only took a moment for the black and white image to load, and when it did, Nuzal was surprised by what he saw.

  “She’s… incomplete?” Qrien asked, clearly perplexed.

  Nuzal shook his head. “She’s missing a kidney.”

  “This isn’t normal, is it? Could this be some sort of mutation?”

  “From everything I’ve read, humans can be born with only one, but see this?” Nuzal pointed to a set of thick white lines. “This looks to me like scar tissue.” He lifted the hem of her shirt, tugging it up to reveal the telltale marks on her side. “It’s been removed.”

  Her only remaining kidney
was failing, and doing so at a far greater rate than he had ever seen before. Perhaps Brin was right and the sedative Nuzal had given her during the lifeblood draw was causing this acceleration. Fear tried to take hold of him, but he beat it back, focusing on the task at hand.

  “Qrien, send Erusha a request for permission to acquire bionics.”

  The male frowned. “Bionics? You would waste resources on this human?”

  Nuzal struggled to contain the angry growl that clawed at his throat.

  “This human is vital to our research. Perhaps you would like to volunteer to be the male who has to explain to the Kaia why the only bonded female we have in custody died on my operating table, because I certainly don’t want to.”

  “Of course not, sir,” Qrien mumbled as he pulled up his comms holoscreen.

  They weren’t kept waiting long. Approval for the transplants was sent directly to Nuzal’s comm, and he wasted no time making sure Jun was prepped and ready for the procedure.

  When the bionics arrived, Nuzal uploaded the scan and a sample of her lifeblood into the case. While they began their work on Jun, the bionic parts began the short process of altering their form, reshaping and modeling theirselves to better suit the female’s needs.

  Even with the healing gel working to correct her other ailments, the surgery took up most of the day cycle. Nuzal stepped back, head tilting as he watched the bionics integrate into her system.

  By the time the gel had finished closing her wounds, Jun’s vitals were already looking much better. Her lifeblood pressure had leveled out, and all of her stats indicated the surgery had been a success, but Nuzal knew better than to assume she was out of danger. Although the rejection rate for the bionics was incredibly low, he didn’t want to take any chances.

  Jun was kept inside the gel and transferred to a private room where Nuzal could monitor her progress, giving only himself, Erusha, and Qrien access to her.

  “You should rest,” Qrien told him as he rubbed his lower set of eyes.

  “Keep an eye on her, and do not bring anyone else into this room.” He waited for the male to nod before leaving, refusing to look back at her tiny form on the much larger bed.

  Nuzal stopped outside the doors to the cells, struggling with his desire to let the Venium know his mate was out of surgery.

  It was too soon, he finally decided, guilt gnawing at him as he turned instead toward Erusha’s office. He would wait until Jun was fully recovered before going to see Brin.

  The lab was quiet when he stepped through the doors, but that wasn’t unusual. Many of the males started their cycles early so they could leave before the mealtime rush.

  Vodk, one of the males Nuzal had gone through training with, sat at his desk with rows of vials and physical files scattered about.

  “Looking for Erusha?” the male asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “I’d hoped to speak with him.”

  “He left in a hurry and hasn’t returned.”

  Nuzal looked toward the male’s office and sighed. “It can wait then,” he said as he turned to leave.

  “The transplant went well, I assume?”

  Nuzal froze. Operations on cases as important as Jun’s were not discussed outside of those assigned to them. The males who had assisted him would not say a word about what had gone on in the room, and Erusha would never have mentioned the request to anyone except Nuzal himself.

  He would not play into Vodk’s hand. “If Erusha returns, you will let him know I was looking for him?”

  “Of course.” The male nodded.

  Vodk’s words played over and over in his mind as he retreated to the section of the living quarters where his room was located. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached from the lengthy surgery, but he knew he would do it all over again to ensure the little female’s survival. His door slid shut behind him as he stepped inside, but his steps faltered when he noticed the bound book resting on his pillow. It wasn’t something he recalled owning.

  Pinned to the soft animal hide cover was a note, written in an unfamiliar hand.

  Keep her close. Do not let them find out what she is to you.

  What in the name of the gods was that supposed to mean? Nuzal grimaced, picking up the book and turning to the first page. It was a journal, written in the same hand as the note. There was no doubt in his mind this was old, citing events that he was sure none of the Grutex could remember anymore.

  Nuzal sat down on the edge of his bed, flipping through the pages until a phrase caught his eye and sent his pulse racing.

  “The lights appeared today. I fear what this may mean for us.”

  He spent nearly an entire day cycle reading through the bulk of the journal, but something was making him uneasy. The memory of his contact with Jun in the halls made him freeze. It was on the surveillance footage, and he needed to destroy the evidence before someone else discovered it and his secret. All of the things they would put her through if they knew ran through his mind, and Nuzal growled. He couldn’t let any of that happen.

  Frame by frame, Nuzal deleted the proof of what she was to him, feeling his chest tighten with the knowledge that she could never be his. When he came upon the footage of her and the Venium within the cell, he lingered for a moment, watching them as his female accepted the male’s kiss. His eyes took in the way she moved against him, and he felt… something.

  What was this?

  His fingers brushed over the image of the bonded pair as they touched, and longing, so strong and swift, filled his body. His breath huffed out of his lungs, and when he felt himself begin to harden, Nuzal deleted the entire file, wanting to give them privacy.

  The little female enticed him, and if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just her he craved to possess. There was something about these two, something that made him hunger and want things he had no right wanting.

  Chapter 18

  Brin

  Too long, his mind screamed. They’ve been gone too long.

  His muscles tensed, rippling beneath his skin as he paced the tiny cell. If Jun’s absence didn’t drive him completely insane, the constant hum of the forcefield would do the trick.

  He wanted to throw himself against it, to beat on it until his fists were soaked in lifeblood. Jun was in the hands of the Grutex, and here he was, stuck inside of a cell.

  Useless.

  He was going to tear every Grutex on this ship limb from limb when he was free. His lifeblood sang at the idea, claws extending in anticipation of the fight. There would be no mercy afforded to them.

  “Nyissa, update.” His voice was low and clipped.

  “I am still unable to infiltrate the system,” she responded.

  “Work. Faster!”

  “Of course, Master. Give me a moment to sprout legs and walk down to the server room. I’m sure the Grutex will simply hand over control at that point.”

  Brin glared down at his wrist, cursing the AI and her smart mouth response. The longer he was separated from Jun, the more he felt himself slipping into madness.

  The last image of her in pain, curled up against the Grutex’s chest, haunted him. How long had it been since their capture? Did Oshen or his other crew mates even know he was missing yet? Would they be able to find him?

  “You’re going to wear a path into the floor if you keep up that pacing,” a voice from the cell next to him said.

  Brin looked over to see the female Jun had called Telisa on her hands and knees. She hissed, jerking her hand away before placing the tip of her finger in her mouth. Red lifeblood gathered at the tip as she frowned down at it. “Damn it!”

  “What made you do it?” Brin asked, his curious gaze tracking her movements.

  Telisa grimaced. “I saw Jun do it––“

  “Not that.” Brin shook his head. “Jun told me about what you said during the press conference. You thought the Venium might be willing to help. What made you think that?”

  The female sighed, sitting back on her heels as
she stared at the floor. “I was hoping against hope, I guess. I was willing to take a chance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone once took a chance on me. I was the underdog, someone many people didn’t want to trust, but they gave me the opportunity to prove myself.”

  Brin moved closer to the barrier that separated them. “What was it that made you so hard to trust?”

  Telisa held out her arms and grinned humorlessly. “My skin. People who look like me don’t always have the same opportunities as some of our fellow humans. It took a lot of hard work to be able to run for a senate seat, and without the support of some key people, I’m not sure I could have won.”

  “The color of your skin on Earth allows you certain privileges?” Brin asked, more confused now than when the conversation started.

  “It’s complicated, and I doubt I can explain hundreds of years of human history without confusing you even further.” Telisa scooted closer, her eyes darting toward the front of the cell as if she expected a guard to show up at any moment. “I was willing to take a chance on you all. The Grutex are winning. They’re taking people daily. If I was wrong and your species was there to help them, then we were screwed anyway? It’s no secret that we were failing, but if we could find help, if we could acquire an ally who was their equal, maybe the Grutex would give up.” Telisa shrugged, shoulders drooping as she shook her head. “Would your people have helped?”

  “It was, as you said, complicated.” Brin thought back to the last meeting on board the ship when Oshen had pleaded his case with Vog. “The Venium follow galactic law, and the protocol for aid is clear in most cases. A species must request assistance before we are able to intervene on their behalf. I came down with one of our ambassadors with the intention to inform your people, but the Grutex shot us down. We were separated, and in that time, Oshen, the ambassador, was taken in by a human female who he identified as his mate.”

  “So what you’re saying is he got distracted.” A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she chuckled. “Men are the same all over the galaxy, aren’t they?”