by Emma Vance
I only wanted Mal to fuck me.
That scared the hell out of me. He’d agreed to help me while on the planet, until we escaped, but now, I doubt he’d want to be tied to me forever. We had no agreement and no understanding that he’d help me past us escaping. And now, I was panicking.
There had to be a cure.
I’d been abducted by aliens, seen things I’d never known existed, was traveling across the universe in a fucking spaceship, so surely, somewhere out there, there was a cure to this piece of shit poison that infected my blood.
I groaned again, louder, and doubled over as pain gripped me. The wild, gnawing need I’d felt since I consumed the tea swept over me.
“Pippa?” I heard his voice in my ear, like gravel scraping across the ground, rough and low. If he could fuck me with that voice, I would beg him to. And I would probably feel a whole lot fucking better.
“I’m fine,” I gasped out, the lie convincing no one.
Jesus Christ. I felt like my pussy was about to fall off it was throbbing so hard.
“You are not, ‘fine’ human,” he said, his voice even gruffer than before. “You are clearly in pain.”
“Not in pain, so much as agony,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“Come,” he said, steering me away. “I will help you.”
I wanted to say no, to push away from him. To have some sort of principles on this. But I couldn’t.
I was weak. I’d been told that my whole life, and now, I knew it was true.
Because I didn’t want to bear this pain. I wanted relief. And yes, I wanted it from Mal.
I let him lead me away from the throng of celebrating Dragorians and humans, down the lacquered black hallway of the ship, and to a metallic door that opened with a whoosh of air and shut with a soft click.
I didn’t make one sound of protest.
When we stood in a room containing only a bed, and a small adjoining chamber to the side that I assumed was their version of a bathroom, I knew I wouldn’t be protesting at all. I didn’t have pride, and I didn’t have shame.
I only had his hands on my skin, his gravel-hard voice in my ear.
Mal
The human was suffering. It was the only thought that pounded through my mind as I led her to my room. We’d escaped the pleasure planet, we’d saved the human slaves from their terrible fate and we were headed back to our home planet, Votarnis, with victory in our hands.
But it was a hollow victory, because my mate was suffering.
I grimaced at the word. I determined to ban it from my thoughts, but it was persistent.
Mate.
The one thing that mattered to my people. The biological imperative our species was gripped with, and the only way we could reproduce. Which was important with a species low on young and running out of females.
It was important to me for other reasons.
I’d never had family of my own, never had anyone to care for, or to care for me. And now I was tied to this human. The mating call pumped through our blood and she had no idea.
She thought her need for me was poisonous.
I didn’t want to tell her the truth. It didn’t matter if she were poisoned or not, from the moment we touched, she would always crave me. She would always want me. And her blood would always respond to mine.
She was using me, I knew that. I couldn’t fault her for it. The lansian poison in her system may not be the reason she was craving me alone, but it would cause her pain if her need was not slated. The last thing I wanted was my mate to be in pain, but it was still enraging to know she would never want me without this poison flooding through her veins. That she would never feel free. That I would never be chosen by her.
I clenched my fists but did not give in to my anger. When had it done any good to dwell in misery at my problems? What should I do, fall to the ground and weep? I nearly snorted, knowing that my crew mates and my captain would be suspended in shock if they saw me exhibit such an emotion. Emotions were for weak males, and I did not give in to weakness.
Pippa was in front of me, trying her best not to grimace her pain, but I knew she was in distress. I felt the tug of protectiveness wrap around me, like a rope tying her and I together. If I could drain every ounce of this poison from her body and fill her with my own blood, I would. A Dragorian male never wanted his female to suffer—he was bound and devoted to her from the moment of their mating connection. And once the Rushing was sated, he would be devoted to their young as well.
The Rushing.
The coiling sexual addiction I’d felt since touching Pippa breathed back to life. It flared, red-hot and all consuming. Perhaps it was because I was alone with her, or my body sensed she was in need.
I had taken her to my room. It was larger than most given that I was first mate on Votarnis, but it wasn’t lavish. My sparse surroundings hadn’t bothered me before, as I didn’t need much. But now, with Pippa in my room and nothing but a simple bed and bathing chamber, I was conscious that I didn’t have anything more than the barest necessities. There were no soft covers or thick pillows she could sink into and relax.
She strode in and sat down heavily on the bed with a huff, not looking around at the room at all, her gaze piercing mine. Perhaps it didn’t matter to her.
“God, I’m glad to be out of there.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a brow.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Shouldn’t you be happier that we didn’t get eaten alive by a wyndlax beast?” I asked, a sharp edge to my voice when I thought about how close I’d come to losing her.
“Yes, you know what, I am happy the giant razor-toothed bunny did not eat me. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I am not exactly free of Stryxx.” She waved her arms down her body, and my eyes followed the swish of her fingers down her soft curves.
“Explain yourself.”
“Um, do I need to? What do you think we are even doing in this room?”
“You were in pain, and I sought to remedy it.”
“Exactly. I was in pain. I will always be in pain. I will always be a slave to this stupid drug I took when I didn’t need to take it at all!” She raised her knees up to her chest, her spiraled hair bouncing around her shoulders with the movement. The sight of her on my bed sent a spike of lust to my groin.
But her ice-colored eyes shone with unshed tears. I nearly fell to the ground and begged her to let me kill whatever monster I needed to make her feel better.
But there wasn’t any monster to slay.
She was right. She would always be affected by the lansian root. And she would never be able to come to me or any male without the need to satiate the drug. Not out of desire. Not out of longing, or passion. Not even out of the Rushing, the biological response her body might have to our mating bond.
She would always be poisoned, and that would always come first. Unless we could find a way to cure it.
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