Kor'ven (Warriors of the Karuvar Book 2)

by Alana Serra

  "Higher," she gasped, tugging on his horns to bring his head up some.

  Kor'ven took her instruction and ran with it, his tongue stroking her swollen clit before he closed his lips around it and sucked. She came apart then, her hips bucking violently, held in place only by Kor'ven's strength as he helped her ride through the intense waves of pleasure that wracked her entire body.

  The tremors hadn't even subsided yet when she found herself begging for more. "Fuck me. Please."

  He rose over her, and she could feel the flared head of his cock pressing against her still spasming core. Her arms went to his shoulders, her nails scraping against his scales. Her body was still sensitive, but she wanted this. Needed it.

  Kor’ven’s eyes met hers as he sank into her with one strong thrust.

  Addison’s body was rocked by pure bliss, by the rightness of that connection. Emotion flared within her, making her chest ache, and she clung harder to her mate even as he began to move within her.

  His hands were braced on the arm of the couch and he fell into a strong, steady rhythm, never taking his eyes off of hers. She felt every thrust, every time his body met hers, her mouth open in silent plea.

  It didn’t take long for Kor’ven to reach his peak again, even at this unhurried pace. Addison understood it completely. Something passed between them, something that was deep and emotional. Something that bound their souls together, regardless of what their implants now said.

  She felt it, too, and as he came, she was brought to a second climax of her own, a sob of sheer joy getting caught in her throat as she buried her face against his shoulder.

  He held her tight, the two of them breathing together, his body still joined with hers. Nothing needed to be said. In that moment, everything was clear to her, as if she’d finally solved something she’d been working on all her life.

  Kor’ven made her better. He made her feel complete in a way her work never could.

  She wasn’t giving up a part of herself to accept him into her heart. She was gaining something she never realized she was missing.

  20

  Kor'ven did not need the connection of their implants to tell his mate was incredibly anxious.

  She paced in the small conference room, walking alongside the table, from one end to the other. Her arms were folded in front of her and she was saying something under her breath that Kor'ven heard very clearly: the same words she intended to say to Drol'gan once he arrived.

  Adi'sun had been preparing them for much of the morning. At least from the time the two of them awoke, as they had both slept late enough to receive what Azh'lee referred to as a "clothes on wakeup call."

  Once they were dressed and composed, they met with the security personnel Drol'gan had informed of their plight. Evidently they had already raided the factory during the night, and there was no sign of the Freedom Fighters. They provided details that would hopefully aid the team of Karuvar in their investigation, but both were ready to do what they could to protect their people, and that involved speaking with the Pathfinder.

  After she had worn a fresh line into the tile, Kor'ven walked over to his mate and put his arms around her. She stilled, calming instantly, and he nuzzled against her neck.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "This is even more important now than it was a few days ago. Now that we know the Freedom Fighters have gone on the offensive, we can't afford to act timid."

  "Do not apologize," he assured her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

  He could see the hint of a smile, but the tension in her muscles told him it was not the type of smile he wished to see. There was something on her mind, and Adi'sun was not the type to hold back such thoughts.

  "I know you and I have different beliefs, but we need to find some compromise--some path forward here," she said.

  Kor'ven opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, his ears picked up the sound of Drol'gan footfalls in the hall. The Pathfinder did not hesitate, opening the door to the conference room and entering, his retinue behind him, including Drann and Verkiir.

  "I am glad to see the two of you are well," he said, sounding genuinely relieved. "I felt rather helpless when I received your message."

  Kor'ven only released his mate for the sake of being professional, but she still remained at his side.

  "The extra security showed up last night, and as far as I'm aware, no one but Helios personnel have been in or out of the facility since," Adi'sun said.

  "Good. I would like to keep it that way through the end of the week. I know it will disrupt the program, but we cannot be too careful," Drol'gan said.

  "That's exactly why I'm going to cut to the chase," she said, glancing briefly to Kor'ven. "We have to act, and frankly, we can't afford to act so inefficiently. We can't afford to adjust each implant individually. For all we know, there could be some rogue strand of code present in more than just the new kit implants. It could be something dormant that they are just waiting to activate until it will cause the most damage. We cannot take that chance."

  Her words were different from what she had practiced, but they were firm.

  "I agree," Drol'gan said, "but if you are suggesting we alter the master code…"

  "It is the only way."

  Both Drol'gan and Adi'sun turned to look at him when he spoke. Her blue eyes were wide, and the look in them made him feel a rather obnoxious sense of guilt. Not because it was undeserved, but because now was not the time.

  He could apologize for not standing united with her at a later time. Now he must simply make up for it in action and convince Drol'gan that Adi'sun was right.

  "You are aware of my history," he said, his gaze focused on the Pathfinder. "You know I do not say this lightly."

  "I do," he said.

  "But Doctor Mun'roh is right. She was right before, and we are extremely fortunate our own stubbornness did not cost anyone their lives."

  Especially Adi'sun. If he had lost her, he did not know what he would do.

  "I am very surprised at this position, Kor'ven. I know you have spent a great deal of time attempting to disprove my father's beliefs."

  He drew in a breath, trying to work through the pain of that wound. There were so many things he regretted, but that was no reason to be cautious when they needed to be anything but.

  "It is the right position to take. If you take any other, you are putting all Karuvar and all humans at risk," he said, looking the Pathfinder in the eyes.

  He felt the back of Adi'sun's hand brush his--a small signal that she was there, and perhaps that she appreciated his support.

  "No one is saying we need to go in blind," Adi'sun said. "I know it will take time to find a programmer capable of doing the job right. But it must be done."

  Drol'gan turned away from them and crossed to the window, his arms folded behind his back. There were few times when Drol'gan was anything resembling transparent, and this was no exception. He could very well tell both of them their services were no longer needed--he certainly had that authority.

  After several long moments of silence, the Pathfinder finally turned to his son and asked, "You have the same information I have. What would you do?"

  Drann was still a youngling. It would still be a year before he reached maturity. But Drol'gan had started training him for the position of Pathfinder after he had been alive for thirteen orbits. He was an intelligent young Karuvar, and Kor'ven hoped he would see reason.

  "I don't think we have a choice," Drann said. "As Adi'sun said, we have no idea how much the Freedom Fighters have already tampered with. We must be proactive, and if that means altering the master code, then that is what we have to do."

  Drol'gan simply stared at his son for a time, and Kor'ven was quite certain no one else in the room even dared breathe. Finally, the Pathfinder nodded.

  "Then that is what we will do."

  Kor'ven let out a breath and his hand found Adi'sun's, giving it a squeeze. When he looked over at her, though, she did not se
em as if she was ready to relax after having won a massive battle. No, she still had her metaphorical blade in hand.

  "After the code is altered and the implants are stable, I believe we need to have a serious discussion about future adaptations and alterations. Kor'ven has spent a great deal of time and effort on a subject that I know is not exactly aligned with either of our species' plans for the future, but perhaps it should be, when we have created a system in which a terrorist group can potentially kill every single one of us."

  Kor'ven just stared at her, utterly speechless. She was… speaking of his research. Championing his belief that the Karuvar had adapted too much, and that the humans would find themselves in the same situation.

  She was taking his side, when he knew very well how difficult that admission was for her. It was so incredibly surprising that he could do nothing but stand there with his mouth agape.

  "I am… not convinced," Drol'gan admitted. "But we can open up a dialog about it, yes."

  Kor'ven let out another breath, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  "Now if you will excuse me, I have to start searching for a programmer. Ah, and before I forget, I have called upon Conqueror Rhavos to lead the investigation into the Freedom Fighters. He is the most proactive Karuvar I have ever known, and he will put an end to this before it truly begins."

  That was quite the surprise, as well. Conqueror Rhavos did not earn his title by being a shrewd investigator. He was a Karuvar who appreciated action, and if he was being summoned to Earth, the threat the Freedom Fighters posed was truly dire.

  But that, he supposed, was a conversation for someone other than two scientists. Drol'gan and his company left the conference room, leaving Kor'ven alone with his mate once more. He did not hesitate, drawing her back into his arms and kissing her.

  "I was just thinking we could open a bottle of wine in celebration, but I suppose that works, too," she teased.

  "You did not have to say that for me," he told her, gently pressing his forehead to hers. "I know you do not agree with my hypothesis."

  "It has merit, and it deserves to be discussed rather than being continuously swept under the rug. Besides," she said, slipping her arms about his waste, "if you and I are going to rule the scientific world together, we have to find some middle ground."

  Kor'ven could not help but laugh. "That sounds easier said than done, considering."

  "Considering how stubborn we both are? Yes, well. We can argue. We will argue. And then we will make up. And after several grueling hours of very hard work," she said, her voice low, her finger tracing along his side, "we can reach a compromise."

  That sounded like a very, very good way to achieve scientific progress. In fact, Kor'ven would not mind starting such progress right now. Though perhaps they could do so in some place other than Waystation Helios for once.

  He was about to suggest that, but Adi'sun looked up at him with searching eyes. "That is… assuming we can work out when we'll be able to see each other."

  His brow furrowed and it took him several moments to understand what she meant. When he did, he looked into her eyes with a conviction she would not be able to ignore. "We will see each other every day. I have already put in for a transfer to Helios. If you believe you are going to have some manner of respite, you are quite mistaken."

  Adi'sun's entire face lit up and her smile warmed his heart. "Damn. I was hoping for at least a few argument-free days a week," she lamented.

  Kor'ven simply smirked. "No, you were not."

  She shook her head with a smile. "No, I wasn't. But if you re-organize my office again, I will send you straight back to Selene."

  He laughed at that, harder than he had laughed in a very long time; harder than was likely warranted, but he did not care.

  "That is fair," he admitted.

  She leaned up and kissed him, speaking to him so very clearly that Kor'ven's heart thumped in recognition. They were entering into a new life, and from this moment forth, they would face everything together. She would not let him become the reserved scientist who never allowed himself a moment of joy, and he would not allow her to become anything other than the brilliant scientist--and brilliant woman--that she was.

  It was an unspoken vow, but one he was all too happy to commit. For now, and for always.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Addison had never been this nervous before. Not when giving the valedictorian speech at her high school graduation. Not when handing in her thesis after she completed her post-graduate program. Not even when awaiting the response to her grant proposal when she first pioneered the Matchmaker program at Waystation Helios. None of those moments compared to the agonizing, stomach-turning agony of standing aside and allowing someone else to fit her child with an implant.

  It wasn't even that she expected any trouble. They had long since solved the issue of tampering, and the sect of radicals that once threatened the very existence of all human and Karuvar kits was no longer functional.

  No, this worry was purely illogical. As much as she knew it was a routine procedure--with as many kits as she'd fitted for implants over the years--she still couldn't stand the thought of the less than one percent chance that the doctor handling the procedure would be completely incompetent simply because they weren't her or Kor'ven.

  Naturally, her mate was like a gentle summer breeze: calm and warm and willing to adjust to whatever life offered. This was not his normal state, of course. Part of her was convinced he had adopted this state just to vex her, just as he had done when he'd been so damnably calm while Addison struggled through over fourteen hours of labor.

  That, too, was illogical. And irrational. Kor'ven was acting calm, but she knew a tempest of emotion raged beneath. She knew the very second the doctor made some kind of misstep, he would transform from a summer breeze to a winter storm.

  For now, though, he was standing beside her, one arm about her waist. She wanted to be annoyed with him--mostly because it was so enjoyable to work off that aggravation later--but she was grateful for his presence, and she found herself leaning against him, in part to keep from crossing the room to fuss with the equipment.

  Aveline, like her father, was also perfectly calm. She regarded the room with wide, inquisitive eyes. Violet, just like Kor'ven's. When they had first brought her to the exam room, she took in the sight of the scanning equipment and the table of surgical supplies. Then she'd regarded the people who'd been kind enough to witness this moment: Meg, who was very, very pregnant with her second kit. Ash, of course. Even Drann had stopped by to support her and Kor'ven.

  Finally she'd taken in the medical staff who were going to do the procedure. Addison had taken them in, too, and that was largely where her gaze had rested ever since. Now she watched as a surgeon prepared to cut open her precious, perfect baby girl.

  "I'm just going to make a very small incision," he said, though to whom, Addison did not know. "It won't hurt a bit."

  And indeed, Aveline didn't even flinch as the laser sliced a small cut into her arm. Addison drew in a shaky breath and nestled closer to Kor'ven as blood beaded at the site. It was ridiculous, really. She'd seen plenty of blood in her lifetime, and she wasn't squeamish in the slightest. But when it came to her daughter, she had a difficult time handling even the mere suggestion of pain or injury.

  So much for thinking she would never want a family of her own. She loved her career, and she and Kor'ven had both made great progress, but their daughter was their world, and if anything ever happened to her… hell hath no fury like two scientists scorned.

  "Now we will insert the implant, sew up the incision, and activate everything," the doctor continued.

  Addison humored him, assuming he was speaking for Aveline's benefit. Even though she was barely thirteen months old.

  She held her breath as the implant was passed to the bio-engineer--the woman currently occupying her usual role. It was inserted quickly, but carefully, and Addison had to admit the wo
man did a very good job.

  Once everything was sewn up, the only thing left to do was to activate the implant. That, she suspected, was going to be the most nerve-wracking part for Kor'ven.

  For years he'd been working on finding a balance that would allow both Karuvar and humans to thrive without creating unnecessary adaptations. He'd finally found something that seemed to work, and as Addison believed in him and trusted him implicitly, she had agreed that the code should be uploaded into the batch of implants that included their kit's.

  She was not the first, no. But for Addison and Kor'ven, she was the most important.

  Heavy keys clanked, and Addison watched as the assistant activated the implant. She turned back to her daughter just in time to see the first tendrils of her tattoo as they radiated outward from her new, working implant.

  A relieved smile spread across her face, and she slid an arm about Kor'ven.

  "Congratulations," the doctor said. "The implant has officially taken."

  Everyone in the room responded in kind. Meg and Ash hugged them both, Drann shook their hands, and Addison even managed to thank the medical staff before they left to move on to one of the many other implant procedures being performed that day.

  As the others started to follow suit, Addison went to pick up her daughter. Having her in her arms, healthy and whole, seemed to soothe the part of her mind that had experienced some manner of temporary insanity, and she smiled brightly up at Kor'ven as he approached.

  "You did it," she whispered.

  "We did it," he corrected, pressing a kiss into her hair.

  And for once, she didn't mind him contradicting her. He was right. They had worked hard to get to this point. Over the years, Addison could remember so many late nights, so many arguments, so many failures before they'd found success.

  But this was who they were. Failure was not a loss, but a chance to re-evaluate, re-iterate, and try again.

  And the love they'd built, along with the child who came from it: this happy, healthy kit who would grow up in a new world?