Unbearable Fear

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Unbearable Fear Page 6

by ML Guida


  “I’m an Arian.”

  She pulled a blanket and covered herself as if it were a shield. “An Arian?”

  “Yes, I’m a shifter.”

  She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I got that. I thought aliens were either little green men or white with enormous heads and big black eyes.” She drained her glass of wine. “So, you’re part of the Arian nations?”

  “I don’t know what that is. Aria is part of the United Planet of Confederation. I’m a security bear for the spaceship Intrepid.”

  “If I hadn’t seen you transform, I would think you were a crazed Star Trek fan.”

  “I…”

  She held up her hand. “I know. You’ve never heard of Star Trek. Why are you here?”

  He sat in an overstuffed recliner. “Can you believe shore leave?”

  “Shore leave?” She scowled, but her features slowly relaxed. “This has to do with your brother, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “The Intrepid crashed on the planet Sutois and the flesh-eating aliens attacked the crew.”

  Her curiosity look flipped to I’m-going-to-shit-my-pants look. “Flesh eating aliens?” She curled her legs underneath her as if she were afraid something would grab her feet from underneath the couch.

  “The Gogs were very fond of Arian meat.” Bitterness tinted his tone.

  “That’s how your brother died?”

  He hung his head, the weight of the guilt crushing his shoulders. “We were captured and thrown into a cell. They blasted me with their…weapon. I couldn’t…I couldn’t…get to him.” He blinked, trying to hold back the tears. He put his hand across his forehead as if to push back the grief threatening to burst through like a raging river.

  “I’m sorry, Walfea.” Skye’s soft voice touched his heart.

  He raised his head unable to speak.

  The fear and curiosity had left her eyes replaced with concern and understanding. The understanding of knowing what it was like to lose someone close, someone that broke your heart when they died.

  She’d only been a kid when her parents died and had been forced to live in foster homes. He’d been an adult when Dech was murdered, and the pain nearly killed him. His mate was Arian strong. Stronger than him.

  It was his turn to release a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

  “So, what does the United Planet of Confederation do?”

  “We’re united to protect all planets, including yours, from hostile enemies.” His voice had returned to normal, but it was an act. His security training had taught him not to wallow in pain.

  But the pulsing pain was there, just below the surface, trying to find a way to break him.

  “I suppose there are other evil aliens besides the flesh-eating ones?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. The Kamtrinians. By your description of the white aliens, someone has encountered them. But they are not short. They stand about eight feet tall and have three eyes.”

  She rubbed her hands over her arms. “They sound terrifying.”

  “They are.”

  “What do they want?”

  “To dominate planets and exterminate the inhabitants. The Kamtrinians strip the planet of what they need and either enslave or kill the inhabitants.”

  She put her hand on her chest. “Do…do…they want Earth?”

  He thought about lying to her so she could sleep at night, but she was his mate. “Yes. But our allies––the Zalarians––have a force field around Earth that prevents the Kamtrinians from invading your planet.”

  She folded her arms and snuggled deeper into the afghan. “And the Zalarians are…”

  “Dragon shifters.”

  She smoothed the deep lines of her brow. “So, they’re here on Earth, too?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “The Kamtrinians murdered all their women with a dioxide torpedo. It didn’t kill any of the males. To continue their race, they require mates.”

  “Oh my God, so they kidnap women?”

  “Their Fates determine which women. The Zalarians are not invading Earth if that’s what you’re worried about. That would go against the Confederation.”

  “So, the Shades that you keep saying are your Gods?”

  “Yes.”

  She balled her blanket. “Are you here for me?” Her voice trembled.

  Walfea walked toward her. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  A glisten of sweat brushed down her temple. “No, don’t come near me.”

  She squirmed, kicking her legs, making the afghan fall down onto the carpet.

  She faced her shaking palms toward him. “I’m barely holding onto the last thread of my sanity. If you come near me, all bets are off.”

  He slowly sat back in the recliner. “Skye, the last thing I wanted was a mate. I’m a mess, but the Shades had other plans.”

  She slammed her hands down on her lap. “Who the hell are the Shades?”

  “They’re our Gods.”

  She squared her shoulders. “Well, I’ve news for them. I’m not anyone’s mate.” She glared. “Unless you plan on raping me.”

  The deep blue eyes were recriminating, and they stalled the response in his throat long enough for him to suffer a distinct, pain in his gut. “No, you’re my mate. I would never hurt you. My task hasn’t changed. I’m charged to protect you.”

  “Will you quit saying that? I’m not your mate. I’ll choose who I’m going to spread my legs for.”

  He gestured toward her. “You’re marked. On your wrist. There’s a green star.”

  She examined her hands and arms. “What do you mean I’m marked? I don’t see anything.” She flashed him a scowl that stilled his heart. “Oh, let me guess, the star’s invisible.”

  He winced. “If you were an Arian, you would be able to see the mark.”

  She laughed like an overconfident Kamtrinian. “Such a typical response. So, tell me Arian, how would I be able to see this supposed star?”

  “I’d have to kiss you.”

  “You did, and I see nothing.”

  His attention, which had strayed rather disarmingly over her hair, the slender arch of her throat, the crimson color of her cheeks, focused intently on the challenge in her eyes.

  “That wasn’t a kiss. I mean a passionate kiss.”

  She raised both arms. “One kiss will reveal the star on my wrist.”

  “Yes.” He held his breath.

  She lowered her arms and turned her gaze. Crickets sang their song outside. The light outside grew darker and Venus glowed next to the new moon. Without looking at him, she said, “If I ask you to stop kissing me, will you?”

  “Yes.” Shades, he hoped he was telling the truth, but neither his gaze or voice faltered.

  “This is stupid, but I need to know.”

  “That’s a comforting statement.” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice that kissing him was worse than kissing a frog.

  She twisted her mouth into a sour expression. “Let’s do it.”

  “You don’t have to act like it’s such a horrible task.”

  “I have one condition.”

  He sat next to her. “Which is?”

  “If the star doesn’t appear, you’ll leave me alone. Agreed?”

  He hadn’t anticipated she’d make such an ultimatum. “I agree.” His bear roared in protest.

  She puckered her lips.

  He smiled. “Relax.” He tucked a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “This isn’t like getting a shot.”

  Their eyes remained locked together a moment longer, a moment where his touch became a caress under her chin.

  The same defiance that he’d grown to admire flashed into her eyes. “Maybe.”

  Skye trembled beneath his touch, chiding herself for falling into the trap of allowing him to kiss her. She pressed her back further into the couch as if she could disappear. What was she thinking? Was it this s
upposed thing on her wrist making her want to kiss him?

  He leaned close.

  She twitched away. For a moment, she saw brown eyes rather than green.

  He jerked back. “What’s wrong? You’re trembling like a leaf.”

  “Sorry.” Her heartbeat pounded faster than a snare drum. “I thought…I thought you were someone else.”

  He frowned. “Who?”

  She ran her hand through her hair. “No one.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heart, but the memory wouldn’t go away…his smell, his touch, his sickly smile.

  “Skye?”

  His concerned voice brought her out of the nightmare. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve been kissed.”

  “Why?”

  She forced a smile. “Hector ruined guys for me.” Her voice was amazingly strong. He’d no idea what kissing meant. For months, she’d put up a force field whenever a man tried to kiss her. She couldn’t risk being vulnerable again.

  But he was breaking down those barriers, rupturing the walls, and unleashing her passion.

  “I’m not a guy. I’m an Arian.” He clasped her trembling hand and caressed the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

  She tensed, remembering how Hector always had grabbed the back of her neck to force her to do things, terrible things. The same creepiness crawled over her flesh and she shivered. She shrugged her shoulders up high and jerked, forcing Walfea to drop his hand.

  Worry flashed into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

  She flipped her hair as if to protect her neck. “I just don’t like the back of my neck to be touched.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  He put his hands on her forearms, his thumbs caressing her. Hotness burned beneath her skin. He stared into her eyes, begging her to trust him without saying a word. She was more aware than ever of the heavily muscled shoulders, the strength in his fingers, the sincerity in his eyes.

  “Kiss me.” Her voice said get this over with, but her insides quivered with wanting him to go slow to awaken desires long buried.

  As if he guessed the turmoil inside her, he lowered his gaze. “I confess that I’m intrigued to know the secrets you guard beneath your stubbornness, your independence…”

  “I’m not stubborn.” But she couldn’t tell him about that night.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You invented the word…”

  She wanted to argue, but he brushed his thumb over her cheek, quieting any rebellion.

  “I’ve never discovered anything so desirable.”

  Skye blushed to the point of a stupor. He was breaking down the force field little by little. Heat fanned through her body with alarming precision, as if he knew just what to touch and how to touch it to render her powerless. She was cognizant of the veiled power in those hands–hands that could easily take what they wanted without her consent.

  Like Hector.

  “Even if you weren’t my mate, I’d want you.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but his lips were on her temple, on her cheek, they sought out the pink shell of her ear. His hands stroked her arms, breaking down her reluctance, replacing it with a frightening desire. Her thundering heart betrayed her, refusing to listen to her brain warning of danger.

  Surely, he could feel her beating heart, her body coming alive, her panting breath, pulsing blood as he gently pressed her back against the stuffed couch. And his mouth–hot damn, his mouth was exploring the crook of her neck, moving at leisure, his tongue swirling, hot, moist designs on her skin.

  This time she didn’t tense. He was right. He was different. He’d the power to quiet the darkness inside her and bring her to the light.

  “God,” she gasped, “if you’re going to kiss me, just do it.”

  She no sooner finished the statement when his lips covered hers, claiming them with a rough smugness that scolded her for her impatience. He raked his hands through her hair and imprisoned her, preventing her from moving or twisting away. His lips were hungry and demanding, moving hot and sure over hers, ravaging them with a fierce intenseness that left her feeble and reeling with bewilderment. She wasn’t enjoying this. She wasn’t. Yet she was trembling, quivering everywhere. She pushed against his chest, but she suddenly realized that her hands seemed to move on their own, betraying her like her heart had, sliding up a rock-hard chest.

  “Do you want me to stop,” he murmured.

  “I…I…” Her resolve to be in control edged away.

  His mouth slanted more forcefully over hers, distinguishing her protest. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. He lifted her legs off the floor and stretched out on top of her. His heart was beating as fast and as furious as hers. Raw, sensual heat flamed her senses and pushed her to respond to his kiss, locking her hands around his neck.

  “Skye,” he gasped. “You didn’t answer me.”

  Ignoring him, she ran her hands through his thick hair, twisting the strands around her fingers. She hadn’t expected herself to respond to his kiss, to lose herself in his arms.

  Strong beeps echoed in the room like an annoying alarm clock.

  He broke off the kiss. They both panted heavily staring at each other, not saying a word. Both still processing what had just happened between them.

  The persistent alarm shattered the moment.

  “Your phone is ringing.”

  She searched his eyes. “It’s not a phone, is it?”

  He rested his forehead on hers. “No, it’s not. It’s a telicator.”

  “Of course.”

  When he pulled away, she sucked in her breath. His hair was a tumble of silky waves, trapping the light, softer, fuller than any man she knew. His shirt had been pulled out of his pants and rolled up to reveal his flat abs. She was tempted to touch his naked, hot skin. The thought of tearing his shirt in two and then feasting on his nipples until he groaned with pleasure brought a flush of sweat across her brow. And his eyes, damn his eyes. There was a wildness to them that defied her to deny the pleasure pulsing inside her.

  She was trembling. But so was he.

  The telicator dinged relentlessly.

  “Someone is determined to reach me,” she whispered.

  “I know.” He slowly rolled off her body.

  The annoying telicator buzzed again.

  He snatched up the telicator and handed it to her.

  She sat straighter. “Hello, Sandra?”

  “Skye?” Her voice shook and cracked.

  Skye’s harsh reality slammed back into her head, chasing away the fuzziness. “Sandra, what’s wrong?”

  But there was no answer.

  “Sandra.”

  Walfea frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hello, Skye. Long time no talk.”

  The warm sweat on Skye’s body turned ice cold. Her breath shivered up and the blood in her veins frosted over.

  “Hector.”

  “You actually didn’t think you could escape me, did you?” The surliness in his voice sprang her into action.

  “Where’s Sandra? What have you done to her? Let me talk to her.”

  Walfea reached for the telicator, but Skye slapped his hand away. If he got on the telicator, no telling what Hector would do.

  “She’s fine….For now.”

  “What do you want?” Her voice was surprisingly strong despite Hector threatening to scare the wits out of her.

  “Isn’t it obvious…You.”

  In the background, Sandra screamed, “Skye, no. Don’t do it.”

  “Shut up, bitch!” A loud smack echoed over the telicator like a cannon.

  “Leave her alone, or I swear I’ll call the police.”

  “Then, she’s dead.”

  Sandra cried out.

  Skye closed her eyes. “Please.” Shit, she never should have let Sandra get involved.

  “If you want to save your friend, you’ll meet me at Bagalis tonight at nine.”

  Skye hissed.

  “Yes, I
know you’re in Frisco. Don’t disappoint me.”

  The line went dead.

  She slowly put the telicator down. She met Walfea’s hard gaze. “Hector has Sandra.”

  “And?”

  She leaned her head back on the couch. “He wants me to meet him at Bagalis tonight.” She glanced at her watch. “That’s less than two hours.”

  “You’re not going. What about calling your security?”

  She jerked to attention. “No. I can’t call the police. He’ll kill her.”

  “Skye, you can’t go. You’re falling into his plans.”

  “Yes, I am. Sandra’s my best friend. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and his legs shoulder width apart as if he were a jailer.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Yes, I can. Look at your wrist.”

  She slowly turned her shaking hand. The hairs on the back of her neck wavered. Her mouth ran dry, any sarcastic words had dried up. A glowing green star, the same color of his eyes, was tattooed on her wrist. The house seemed to grow smaller, the walls and roof enclosed on her, as if ensnaring her into a hot box and sucking out all the air. She’d just escaped one alpha only to fall into the hands of another.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her wrist swirled around her and tiny green stars clouded her vision.

  “Skye.” His voice was a loud speaker busting through the dizziness.

  “What?” Her voice sounded far away as if she was calling down a canyon.

  “Look at me.”

  His face slowly came into focus, a face she thought she could trust.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.”

  In a millennium.

  Chapter 9

  Walfea was tempted to change into his snarling bear, trapping Skye on the couch or chaining her to one of the dining room chairs or locking her in her bedroom. But even if he locked her in the big house, she’d kill herself trying to get to Bagalis. His gut twisted into hard knots. “Skye…”

  Skye stuck out her chin. Her eyes turned as hard and cold as shards of broken glass. “There’s no discussion, Walfea. I’m not going to let my best friend die.”

  “So, you actually think Hector’s just going to let her walk away unharmed?”

 

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