Kor'ven (Warriors of the Karuvar Book 2)

by Alana Serra

  Addison giggled at this, unable to help herself. The third drink had done a good job of convincing her that, yes, Kor'ven was unbearably attractive. The alcohol hadn't done anything to dull her senses in that regard.

  "I bet he's packing, too," Ash said, decidedly not drunk.

  "Ashley!" Meg's admonishment was, as always, lacking in any real condemnation.

  "What? It's always the quiet ones."

  "This is true," Addison said, backing up her friend before Meg could inevitably ask how Ash knew such things. "I dated a man in college who barely spoke a word. Hung like a horse," she said, demonstrating with her hands.

  That elicited another round of giggles before Meg asked, "Yeah, but did he know how to use it?"

  Addison shook her head sadly. "He fucked like he was driving a pickaxe into the side of a mountain."

  "Oh, God." Meg cringed.

  "Dumb as a hammer, too," she lamented with a sigh. "That's the day I swore I would never fall for anyone who wasn't as obsessed with biochemistry as I was."

  That hadn't really been her vow, but it'd become painfully obvious she needed someone who could keep up with her on an intellectual level. And preferably someone who didn't fuck like a broken jackhammer.

  "I don't know about biochemistry, but Kor'ven's pretty smart," Meg pointed out.

  "Obnoxiously smart," Addison grumbled. "And he has the personality of a pinecone."

  Ash snorted, taking another sip of her drink. "A moldy pinecone that's been barfed up by an irradiated bear."

  "Exactly."

  "Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye." Meg shrugged. "I thought Verkiir was just some domineering, macho idiot the first time I met him, but he's grown a lot since then."

  "He can still be a domineering, macho idiot sometimes," Ash pointed out, and Meg didn't argue with that.

  "Well, it won't matter. Kor'ven and his Hot Science Ass will return to Selene soon enough, and then I won't have to think about whether or not he's more than he seems."

  Meg frowned, a serious expression tugging into her features. "You know better than that, Addi. You saw what happened to me."

  Addison looked away from her friend, rubbing absently at her implant site. Meg had experienced a catastrophic system shock when she was parted from her mate--one that had nearly claimed her life. Already, Addison's implant had started to protest, sending pain signals throughout her body in an attempt to get her to cooperate.

  So far, she'd been able to drown them in tequila-gin-bourbon-whatever-else-was-in-her-glass.

  "The worst happened after you were already mated," Addison pointed out. "If it never gets to that point for Kor'ven and I, then there's a chance we can both go on with our lives." She frowned, despite herself. "Besides, I'm not even sure his implant reacted to mine."

  "Are you serious?" Ash's expression was incredulous. "He totally wants to bone you. You can see it in his eyes every time somebody mentions you."

  "If mating just involved sex, I might not mind it," Addison admitted, stirring her watered-down drink with one finger.

  "I know that feeling," Meg said, tipping her own glass to clink against Addison's. "But it is more. A lot more."

  Silence fell over the table, and even the sounds of the bar faded into the background. Addison's ears were ringing--her implant's doing, no doubt, or maybe she'd just had too much to drink. Either way, it didn't stop her from thinking about that what if.

  What if Kor'ven truly was her mate? What if she could build a life with him?

  The second she thought of it, she also thought of her mother. Of her mother's brilliance, and the fact that that brilliance had been permanently shelved in favor of raising a family. Addison had always sworn she would never fall into the same trap.

  Especially with someone like Kor'ven.

  "The pull hasn't been that strong," she lied. "And in any case, there are more important things to worry about."

  Tomorrow, she would try to set her pride aside. She would approach Kor'ven and offer to combine research--to work alongside him, instead of against him.

  And she would defiantly ignore any biological pull she felt toward him. For better or for worse, Addison Monroe was not going to succumb to the mating frenzy. Not now, not ever.

  6

  The next time Addison walked into Waystation Helios, she came armed with a plan. And a bit of a hangover, granted. But mostly a plan.

  She would hold her head high, walk through Helios like she owned the place, and purposefully not give Kor'ven the piece of her mind he more than deserved. No, she would keep those thoughts to herself, and instead she would be kind and amenable and she'd strive to work with him and his ideas rather than against him. Then, once his ego was sufficiently fluffed, she would weave in her own process and get him on her wavelength. As it should be, considering her position at Helios.

  It was a sad state of affairs when a woman had to deliberately strategize just to work productively with a male colleague, but such was the field of science. Her mother had explained that to her long ago.

  Besides, she had no intention of bowing to Kor'ven's will. She would bend as was necessary to ensure a smooth investigation, and with any luck, they'd have the matter solved by the end of the day and Kor'ven could return to Selene.

  So long as she didn't think about what Meg said--so long as she ignored the consequences of ignoring her mate--she'd be fine.

  Easier said than done, as the moment she flashed her credentials at the intake hub, she knew Kor'ven was already present and working. It was barely past seven in the morning, and she'd been hoping to get a couple hours to herself before she had to play nice. But of course he was fastidious. It was something she respected, but also something that made her grind her teeth as she walked down the long corridor, heels clicking on the tile floor.

  He was easy to find. Helios was in energy-saving mode, so many of the lights were off. It made the lab--her lab--light up like a beacon.

  Of course he was in there. Next to her office, that lab was her territory. He shouldn't have clearance, but he likely didn't observe such protocols anyway.

  Locking up her purse in her office, Addison tried to school her temper. Her mother had always said it would be her downfall, and it was true that if she approached him like this, she wouldn't get anywhere. So she calmed herself, drawing in a few deep breaths and regaining her composure.

  As she approached the lab, that pull she'd felt transformed from a dull hum to a roaring symphony of sensation. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out all other sound. Her muscles ached, a fine sheen of sweat beaded at her brow, and she swore she could smell his skin--that strange, otherworldly smell, like how she imagined a glittering moon rock might smell.

  Perhaps that wasn't the most flattering comparison, but she'd always found moon rocks to be quite lovely. And the fact that it was still just a rock sat well with her current view of Kor'ven.

  She wore a secret smile as she entered the lab, though it was chased away by the look he gave her. He must have sensed her, too, because there was an exhilarating intensity in his gaze that told her he’d been thinking of her, whether he wanted her there or not.

  Images danced through her mind. When she was younger--and far hornier--she'd fantasized about walking into her college lab late at night and seducing one of her professors. She'd only be wearing a lab coat--of course. A dab of perfume to entice. Her hair would be down--a definite no-no in a lab--and she'd walk over to him, a swing in her hips. He'd try his best to ignore her, but she'd drape her arms over his shoulders and rub out the knots she knew were there.

  Still he'd try to ignore her, but one glance would give him an eyeful of her breasts--one of her finest assets, if she was allowed to choose--and he'd lose all control of himself. He'd swipe all the expensive equipment off of the table, glass and chemicals everywhere, and he'd fuck her like he needed her more than anything else in the world.

  That fantasy played through her mind again, only this time it wasn't her thirty-som
ething professor starring in the role. It was Kor'ven.

  With an unspoken curse, Addison banished those thoughts from her mind. She was here for a bit of stroking, yes, but not that kind.

  "Good morning, Kor'ven," she said with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here this early."

  He returned to his microscope, seeming to ignore her for several long moments. "I have not left. This is a pressing matter. If we all kept such regular hours, no doubt the population would die out."

  A muscle twitched in Addison's face. Was he insulting her work ethic, of all things? She opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it.

  "Did you learn anything new?"

  She moved to stand by him, to see what he was working on, and couldn't help but notice how readily he tensed. It was almost like he was preparing for her to assault him. And frankly, the way her hormones were right now, she wasn't sure that idea was completely absurd.

  But would she assault him out of lust or anger first? That was the question.

  "No. I've spent much of the last sixteen hours trying to make sense of your outdated system. I took the liberty of re-organizing your data into something more numerically pleasing."

  Addison froze at that. She knew he'd gone through her binders. What else could he possibly have touched…? Her gaze flew to the shelves in the lab. Shelves she'd painstakingly arranged in a system that made sense to her.

  "You did what?" she yelled, rushing over to one of the shelves.

  So much for keeping her composure, but how could she? Her references were re-organized alpha-numerically rather than by subject matter, her samples organized by serial number rather than patient name, and she couldn't even begin to figure out the system he'd used to sort her equipment.

  "What purpose does any of this serve? Why the hell would you waste time on this when you're so rabidly fixated on solving this problem?"

  Kor'ven didn't look at her, and she was very, very tempted to make him.

  "If I'm going to use your data, I have to be able to interpret it."

  "Here's a novel idea," she grated out. "Why don't you ask me?"

  "If I need the opinion of a bio-engineer, I will certainly consult with you."

  She stared at him, open-mouthed, all pretense of humbling herself thrown out the window by his patronizing tone. "This is my lab. My Waystation. My patient. What you're looking at right there? That's a cross-section of a cell structure I helped grow. So don't you dare tell me my opinion isn't credible."

  His gaze finally met hers, and Addison nearly staggered at the force of what she saw there. Conflict churned in his violet eyes, and he looked as if he was actually… struggling. Like this whole experience was causing him pain.

  Was he doing this on purpose? Was he deliberately being the biggest prick imaginable in hopes of driving her off? If so, it was working.

  "I am sure you are a brilliant scientist within the human community, Doctor Mun'roh, but you only have half the data--"

  "Oh no, you don't get to pull the Karuvar science card on me. I've dedicated my life to one thing--implants. I understand them inside and out, from both perspectives. I know how they work, how they're made, and I have comprehensive data on why they fail. You are not going to exclude me from this investigation. I--"

  She hadn't realized she was touching him. It was just something she'd done, driven by her fury. She didn't notice she'd poked her finger into his firm chest until his hand was encircling her wrist; until those violet eyes met hers, something undeniable blazing in them.

  God help her, that fantasy was back. She knew how strong Karuvar were. Given his body, Kor'ven was likely no exception. He could pull her to him and hoist her up onto the table like she weighed nothing at all. He could bury himself inside of her within seconds, and she'd be ready for him.

  Her gaze flicked down despite herself. He wore simple trousers like most Karuvar, and his erection was painfully obvious.

  Addison nearly yelped in surprise when the door to the lab suddenly opened. Her cheeks were already burning, and they burned even worse when she realized it was Drol'gan who'd interrupted their… fight? Seduction? Mating ritual? She wasn't sure anymore.

  "Good morning." The Pathfinder's smile was pleasant, but there was something in his tone that told her he wasn't here for a friendly chat.

  "Pathfinder," Kor'ven acknowledged.

  Addison just nodded, not trusting her voice.

  "I thought I should tell you that the other Waystations have been contacting me. Actually, they haven't stopped contacting me." His words were terse, and Addison's heart was caught in her throat. "They know of the failure of Vazik's implant, and I had to talk them out of canceling their Matchmaker programs altogether."

  "Why on Earth would they cancel the programs?" Addison asked, utterly flabbergasted.

  "What purpose would that serve?" Kor'ven echoed.

  Well. Hell had apparently just frozen over. She and Kor'ven finally agreed on something.

  "They fear we have created inviable matches--that any kits born to Karuvar and humans will be unable to sync to an implant, and that this will prove detrimental to both species."

  What an absurdly extreme reaction. She could certainly understand taking precautions, but ending the mating program entirely? Blocking new mates from finding one another? That was alarmist in the extreme, and it made them no better than the protesters that often swarmed the outside of Waystation Helios.

  "That is absurd," Kor'ven said, again echoing her thoughts. This time before she even spoke them. "It is merely a complication--a setback that will be fixed as soon as possible."

  Drol'gan's expression remained kind; friendly even, for the most part. But there was something in his eyes that shook Addison to her core.

  "Will it? Because I have heard only dissent and bickering from the two of you since you started working together."

  "Pathfinder, I can--" Kor'ven began.

  "Whatever issues you have, I suggest you address them. Addison, Kor'ven, you are the two scientists I trust most to fix this issue. But if you cannot work together, I will find someone else who is willing to put the good of our species above their own pride."

  Drol'gan pressed a closed fist to his heart--both a greeting and a farewell--and left the lab without any further ceremony. It was a warning and a promise, and one that left Addison utterly speechless. Kor'ven, too, it seemed, for when she looked at him, she only saw the shame she felt deep in the pit of her stomach.

  They'd behaved like children. There was no nice way to say that. The future of their people was at stake, and they'd compromised it by bickering incessantly.

  "Perhaps we should... try another approach," Kor'ven admitted slowly.

  Addison just nodded. It was past time to put her feelings aside. They needed an answer, and they needed it now.

  7

  Kor’ven had never been so utterly humiliated in his life.

  Not only had he been called to task for possibly jeopardizing the future of the Karuvar, he’d been called to task by the Pathfinder, the one person he respected above all others. It was disgraceful. He’d dedicated his entire life to the bigger picture of this particular dilemma--to trying to uncover why the Karuvar could no longer breed--and now the Pathfinder was accusing him of letting his emotions get in the way of his work.

  And… he was absolutely right. That was perhaps the most shameful thing about it.

  It would be easy to blame Adi’sun, except for the fact that he knew she was blameless in this. It was biology, or at the very least, the coding in their implants. There was nothing either of them could truly do about that. But Doctor Mun’roh was only responding to what Kor’ven put forth. The hostility, the haughty arrogance, the complete unwillingness to compromise? That had all come from him, and he knew it.

  His ears drooped and his shoulders sagged. Easy tells for anyone who was paying attention--especially for a human who’d spent as much time studying the Karuvar as Adi’sun had--but he could scarcely find it in hi
m to care. Karuvar believed in honor about all else; in serving their families and their people as a whole. Some served through their might, others through their intellect.

  But to fail the Pathfinder was to fail at everything the Karuvar stood for, and it sickened him.

  “He’s right,” he heard Adi’sun say. “This pettiness between us has to stop. There’s too much at stake here.”

  It did not feel entirely appropriate to call the feud between them pettiness. Not when Kor’ven had manufactured so much of it as a safety measure. He had doubts about Adi’sun’s work, yes, but they were the same doubts he would have about anyone he had not worked closely with over the years.

  The behavior he’d exhibited toward her was not pettiness, it was part of his carefully calculated armor. If he was irredeemably awful, she would want to be nowhere near him. And if she was nowhere near him, they could not be tempted to give in to base instincts.

  Only… that plan had nearly backfired, just minutes before. Had Drol’gan not interrupted, Kor’ven may well have been tasting the sweet nectar between her thighs by this point.

  “I agree,” he said simply, forcing that thought from his mind.

  She blinked in a rather endearing way, large blue eyes looking up at him as if he had never made such a concession before. And he supposed he had not.

  “Then we should start right away.” He watched as she absently tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear, his fingers aching to reach out and touch. “I assume you have a theory?”

  “I do. As you said, the code is pulled almost verbatim from the master source. I have had a specialist triple check the lines that were edited, and they are working lines of code.”

  Adi’sun bit her lip and nodded. Some part of him wondered what she was about to say. Something that would have stoked a flame within him, he suspected, for ire came from a place of passion.

  “There appears to be no mechanical fault, so I can only conclude the failure is biological.”