Shit. Rohn pretty much demanded that, too. She thought she married a gray wolf. What she got was a jealous old lion.
The console fired up and the login screen hoovered in the middle of the room. “Let’s make you a character,” she said.
He was upset. She was upset. They sat side by side, tense. She didn’t want to say anything she couldn’t take back, and the best way to do that would be to bash in a few robot faces.
“Is Terran my only option?” Rohn frowned as he scrolled through the face selection.
“It’s the robot apocalypse and we’re saving humanity, so yeah. You have to be a human.”
“But I have already saved humanity once.”
She had never actually considered that. He and the rest of the Mahdfel had done just that. “Then it’ll be super easy for you, old man.”
“Not so old,” he said, the heat in his voice sparking a shiver that ran down her spine.
Nakia kept her eyes forward, diligently selecting her avatar and equipping it for the battle ahead. “If you think distracting me with your sexy voice is going to help you, newb, think again.”
He perked up, leaning forward with excitement. “Is that the smack talk? Are we exchanging insults for competition? If so, I am distressed by how often your species requires saving in popular entertainment. It fosters an attitude of learned helplessness.”
“We’re saving humanity. That’s like the opposite of helpless.”
“But you do not even question why the population must be saved. Why can they not save themselves? Why must you be their savior?”
“Because… that’s the game. Shut up,” she sputtered.
“Yes, a highly convincing argument,” he said with a nod and a grin.
“And yet you’re still talking.”
Rohn finalized his avatar, complete with a snow-white fauxhawk and facial scruff, and christened it Silver Fox. He grinned again, clearly pleased with himself. She rolled her eyes, nearly regretting calling him a silver fox. He was handsome, yes, but dangerous. Gray wolf was far more accurate.
Nakia selected a basic resource gathering mission. “Follow me. I’ll shoot, and you pick up anything glowing yellow.”
Their avatars appeared on a map, outside the survivor’s fort.
Rohn sputtered. “What are you wearing?”
“It’s a halo. It’s a special achievement for being awesome,” she explained.
“Why do you get a weapon? I am a warrior,” he said. His avatar spun in a circle, despite him hitting every button on the controller.
“That’s why.” Then, for good measure, “Newb.”
Rohn figured out how to move his character and they worked their way through the post-apocalyptic landscape. Which just so happened to be littered with medical kits, fuel and food.
Shut up. It’s a game.
He picked up a rusty fireman’s ax and equipped it, gleefully smashing anything in reach.
“Why is it so dark? Is this an accurate representation of Terran vision? I am blind. This is unacceptable,” he grumbled when his character failed to walk through a door and bounced off a wall.
“It’s called atmosphere.”
Ominous music played, the only warning that bad shit was about to go down. Nakia barked that they needed to return to the fort before the robot swarm pinned them down. She easily navigated down the multiple flights of stairs in the abandoned building, neutralizing a small cluster of robots.
Rohn missed the step and plummeted three stories. She shouldn’t have laughed, it was mean, but damn if his yelp of surprise didn’t tickle her. “Why is my bar blinking red? I do not think that is good,” he said.
“Nope, that’s bad.” He had exactly five hit points left. She administered a med kit, boosting him back up to half-health.
“But I merely fell. I should not take such damage from a simple fall,” he protested.
“Three stories. That’d kill a regular person. A regular human, anyway.”
“I do not like this,” he said, as his character swung an ax at a murderbot. He shouted happily as the bot exploded. Then frowned. Nakia couldn’t help but laugh at his baffled expression.
“My bar is red again.”
“Exploding robots are bad for your health,” she said in a sing-song voice. Her avatar turned a corner, triggering an ambush. She failed to target her EMP blaster quickly enough and took a direct hit. Her character sprawled on the ground, unconscious. “My face! Don’t laugh at me.”
Rohn rocked with silent laughter, his fangs hanging over his bottom lip.
“It’s not funny. We’ve got three minutes until the mission is over.” She respawned and ran back to Rohn’s character. Her character would suffer from damaged equipment and there’d be no bonus points at the mission completion. “This is serious business.”
She blundered into another mob. They both died and the mission failed.
“This amuses me. Again,” Rohn said.
“As long as my pain entertains you.”
The second mission failed but they reached the fort in the third. Then Rohn’s avatar got caught in a freezing landmine. Again, shut up. It’s a game. Whether Nakia may or may not have placed that landmine directly in Rohn’s path was beside the point. She cackled as her character reached the safety of the fort.
And slammed the gate closed, directly in Rohn’s face with a swarm of murderbots hot on his tail.
Totally worth the lost points.
“Let me in,” he said.
“No can do, babe. I got all these innocent lives to defend.”
“Nakia, I am your mate. Let me in.” His character bashed the closest robots, but the rusty ax just couldn’t keep up with an entire swarm. “We are Team Rokia. Let me in.”
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” she said stoically. “I’m not getting any satisfaction out of this. None.”
“You are currently laughing.”
“Nope, this is grief. I’ve been driven mad.” Her face hurt from smiling so much.
His character sprawled on the ground, defeated, and the mission finished with a partial success.
She nudged his shoulder. “That was fun.”
“You sacrificed me for your own amusement. You said we were a team. Clearly your words were meant to deceive.” He crossed his arms and huffed.
Her heart fluttered. She didn’t know how anyone could be that dangerously handsome and that adorable at the same time. It shouldn’t be possible.
“And I had fun doing it,” she said. Duh.
The heat and hurt of their argument drained away. They still needed to have a serious discussion, because Rohn’s jealousy was over the top. Plus, she had her own jealousy to wrestle.
“You are a very competitive female.” He rubbed the gold-laced horn, a move she took to be his thinking gesture. “I owe you an apology.”
“You’re not the only one,” she said. “I never thought I was a jealous person, but apparently I am. I’m sorry for shouting. Your work is important.”
He nodded. “You are not incorrect in that others can assist.”
“‘Not incorrect.’ I love the way you admit I’m right.”
He took the controller from her hands and placed it on the floor. “Nakia, I apologize for my actions. Jaxar helped you, and I hate that I cannot. I hate that another male can do this for you.” His gaze drifted down to her prosthesis.
“I hate that this stupid thing doesn’t work all the time. I hate how helpless it makes me feel,” she said. Mostly she hated being held captive to failing technology. Her older, simpler, prosthesis had none of the fancy features, but it never locked up on her when she was shopping. It worked, day in and day out, without fail.
His tawny gold eyes flashed, and he leaned in, lips nearly touching hers. Time to kiss and make up. Mmm…
Except they hadn’t really discussed anything. Nothing would change.
She leaned back at the last moment. “I accept your apology, but this shitty behavior has to s
top,” she said.
* * *
Rohn
* * *
“You are my mate,” he said, because that should be explanation enough. His mate to protect. His to provide for. His to hold. His to fuck.
Mine.
“Yeah, see, I don’t feel like we’re making progress here.” She scooted to the far end of the couch, taking her the soft floral scent with her.
The feline jumped into his lap, demanding attention. He stroked the creature’s head and back. “You want assurances that this will not happen again?”
“I don’t want promises.” She ran a hand through her hair and sighed heavily. “This acting like a jealous fool has to stop. I don’t like you when you’re that way.”
Her words had the effect of plunging him into icy water. “You do not like me?”
“When you’re acting the way you did in medical? No.”
“Jaxar touched you.”
“I can’t deal with this right now.” She pushed herself off the couch, the first step uneven, and headed to the kitchen.
The feline butted her head against his hand, demanding he resume caressing the length of its body.
Noises from the kitchen indicated that his mate brewed tea. She returned with a steaming mug of a light herbal blend, designed to soothe.
“Sometimes I need help,” she said, sitting down with care. “There’s no way around it. That means sometimes I will be touched by other people, other males, but it’s not sexual and it’s not flirting.”
“You speak truth, but I hate it.”
“Hate is a strong word. I dislike needing help, too. Some days, I really wish I had all my original parts, that no one looked at me with curiosity, or tried treated me like I’m helpless because of my leg.”
“You are not,” he said adamantly. His mate was one of the most capable persons he knew.
“I also wish I could wear heels, but I have to learn to deal.”
Is that what she wanted? For him to deal with the things he disliked? He rubbed a hand over his shattered horn, considering his next words.
“I am old, Nakia.”
“We’ve been over this—”
“Listen to me, as I listened to you, please. I am old. I have made mistakes, mistakes that cost lives, and I wear that shame on my body.” He touched his horn unconsciously. “I fear you will regret your choice.”
“Not going to happen.”
The certainty in her voice gave him peace. Even after the words they exchanged in anger, she chose him.
“The engineer should not be my rival but when I see you at ease with him, I fear… I fear.” Jaxar could provide for her in so many ways, including the highly skilled labor for her prosthesis, and he would not break their plans. He would not overwork himself. He would always have time for her. Rohn could not think of a single thing that he could give Nakia that another could not do better except love her. No one would love her the way that he did, with a burning intensity of starfire.
He feared it was not enough.
“I thought Jaxar was your friend,” she said.
“Yes. Sometimes,” Rohn admitted.
She moved to straddle his lap. “I choose you, Rohn Ogana.”
He looked away. Her words were too good to be believed. She would change her mind.
“Hey.” She grabbed his good horn and swiveled his head to face her. Her velvety brown gaze met his own, fierce and demanding. “I. Choose. You.” She punctuated each word with a kiss, soft and light on his closed mouth.
If she saw into his heart, saw the desperate neediness inside, she would flee.
“I choose you. Only you. Always you.” Another kiss, her tongue dancing across the seam of his mouth, forcing his mouth open. She groaned, deepening the kiss, her tongue tracing his fangs. She tasted of the herbal tea. His thoughts emptied, consumed with the taste of her and the feel of her hot, wet mouth.
“You’re my husband,” she said, lips hovering a breath above his. “And I love you.”
He sucked in his breath. She loved him. He had hoped but dared not admit it. “I—”
“Shh.” Another kiss. “I didn’t say it because I expected to hear it back. I said it because it’s true. I love my husband.” Her lips trailed to his jaw and neck; each touch a tingling new sensation. “I love this part here.” She licked the solid line of his clavicle.
Lifting the hem of his shirt, she forced the garment up until he raised his arms and tossed the shirt to the floor. She hummed with appreciation, her hands rubbing his pectorals. “I love these.” Another kiss. “And these are perfection.” She rubbed a hand down his arms.
She scooted off his lap and knelt between his legs. “I love these.” Her fingers brushed his abs. “And this right here drives a girl crazy.” She traced a path where his hips met his pelvis. “And I love how strong these are.” Her hands rubbed his thighs.
Biting her lower lip, she glanced up at him and then at his crotch. He moved to open his trousers, but she knocked his hand away. Instead, she opened the front, eyes wide like she opened a gift.
His cock jutted forward, hard and already weeping.
She licked her lips and lowered herself, breath wafting hot across his member. “This is mine.” She lifted her eyes, waiting for confirmation.
“Only yours,” he said, fingers twisting into her hair. His body wanted desperately to guide her down, to feed her his thick cock and watch her red lips wrapped around his girth. His cock twitched a pulsed, ready to come without her even touching him.
“Good, because it’s attached to the man I love.”
She licked him from base to tip and he nearly came.
“This is going to be fun,” she said, swallowing him deep.
She loved him. It was more than fun. It was everything.
Chapter 14
Rohn
The usual figures were situated in the warlord’s ready room. Rohn nodded to Kalen. He needed to speak with the medic.
Jaxar motioned to the empty seat next to him, so obviously Rohn had to take the empty spot next to Mylomon, who rolled his eyes. “The flirting between you two is distracting. Get a room,” Mylomon muttered.
“Jaxar is my sworn nemesis,” Rohn said. Not entirely true. He liked the male well enough but decided to avoid him for the time being. Jaxar’s eyes shone bright, no doubt with unanswered questions about what he overheard in medical. Now was not the time to discuss such matters with the male. Perhaps never would be the time.
“I like to think of us as frenemies,” Jaxar helpfully supplied.
Idle chatter ceased as the warlord entered the room. Paax’s broken horn had partially regrown and the white that threaded through his hair at the temples surprised Rohn. The warlord was twenty years younger than him but looked tired. The burden of being warlord weighed on him. Not that Paax was an inadequate warlord. He had been exactly what the ailing clan needed and spent his considerable energy rebuilding what Omas had nearly destroyed. Many, including the Sangrin council, questioned him and thought him too cerebral for leadership.
Rohn did not envy the male and felt pangs of sympathy, knowing the warlord had his mate and two sons to consider as well as the wellbeing of the entire clan.
He ran a hand up the back of his head. Iron gray more than threaded through his own hair, he knew. He was at the age when most males considered retiring, but he had not entertained the notion. He planned to serve until his body failed. Honorable death during combat seemed a fitting end—until Nakia.
His mate reminded him that he might have gray in his hair, but he still had strength and decades of life yet. He wanted to spend those years with Nakia. Children only made that vision sweeter. Suddenly, being confined on a ship, even one as massive as the Judgment, seemed suffocating.
Paax slapped the table, his hand landing just to the right of Rohn. “Are you done daydreaming?” the warlord asked.
“Thinking about his mate. You can tell by the silly grin,” Jaxar said.
“Do not speak abou
t my mate,” Rohn said.
“Yes, yes. Don’t look at her. Don’t speak to her,” the insufferable male said, reciting all the restrictions Rohn had given him. “Don’t breathe the same air as her.”
Rohn hadn’t said the last one but it wasn’t a bad idea.
“Enough,” Mylomon said, his deep voice echoing in the room without shouting.
Spooky bastard.
Paax pressed buttons on the table’s command panel and a holographic map of the section hovered above the polished glass surface. “We received a distress call from moon of Vel Mori.”
Rohn knew the approximate location of the small mining colony, on the edge of the Sangrin system but within the territory monitored by the Judgment.
“The colony reported a Suhlik raid at their largest population center. Approximately one thousand of the civilians fled to the mines, with limited food and water. Others are holed up in the city. They are in urgent need of medical aid.” Red dots appeared on the map, indicating raid location. “The Sangrin Council has ordered the Judgment not to respond. They would rather Antomas provide assistance,” Paax said.
Noises of surprise filled the room. The council’s order made no sense. The purpose of the Judgment was to patrol and protect the system. Its size made it slow but also made it ideal to respond to such situations. The clan had the warriors and the resources to help the mining colony.
“That makes no sense,” Seeran, the head of security, said. “Antomas’s clan cannot evacuate a colony or provide medical support.”
“They can get there faster and win accolades for being the first on the scene,” Mylomon said. “But they’d be sitting with their thumbs up their asses, not actually able to do a thing.”
“Which is why the Council is wrong. We’re going to Vel Mori,” Paax said.
It was the correct action, the honorable action. The Council’s order to ignore the distress doomed the colony. Antomas’s clan did not have the capability to turn back a full Suhlik raiding party or provided the aid the survivors desperately needed. People would die. Horribly.
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