The dark demon in the corner chuckled. Kalen’s top lip curled in a low growl and he glared at the warrior over his shoulder. “I will not. We are a ninety-nine point eight percent match. Additional testing is a waste of resources.”
Meridan’s mind raced, searching for another loophole, for a way to delay the inevitable. “I didn’t consent,” she said.
“The test is mandated. Your consent is not necessary.”
Meridan’s skin prickled at that sentiment. Kalen was an overbearing, arrogant ass to work with. He wasn’t much different as husband material. Their evening at the Harvest Festival was a fluke. He wanted to get in her pants and it nearly worked. She had been so tempted. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought was necessary but Daisy interrupted her.
“She’s right. Protections are built into the treaty and the human woman has to consent to the test. That’s one of the protections. As family, I can authorize the test, which I didn’t. No one gave consent. The test is invalid.”
Meridan nodded. “Stops creeps from randomly grabbing girls off the street and testing them.”
Kalen frowned and his chin lifted in defiance. “We will waste time and resources to appease you, female, but first you must eat.”
“Oh no, you’re not going to make me wait.” Meridan started to climb off the bed but found her legs rubbery. Traitors.
“The regeneration gel has enough nutrients to sustain you but your body used much of its reserves. I will not compromise on this.”
“Are you saying I lost some junk in my trunk?” Meridan sank back into the pillows.
Daisy stroked her hair reassuringly. “You need to eat.”
“Now you agree with him? Traitor.”
“Don’t be a brat,” she said.
“I will return with suitable sustenance,” Kalen said, heading for the door.
“Earth food,” Meridan called. “None of that weird alien stuff.”
Kalen
“That is nothing but sugar and fat,” Mylomon said with contempt.
Kalen look down at the plate. “It is cake and ice cream. I have seen my mate consume this.”
“It has little nutritional value.”
A male’s sacred duty was to provide, protect and cherish his mate. Meridan wanted food. He would bring her that food that made her hum with pleasure, even if it was nothing but fat and sugar. He grunted. “Next time the meal will be better balanced but she just woke. This will improve her mood.”
“You try too hard to please your female.”
Kalen narrowed his eyes. He set the tray down on the counter. Mylomon was not here to scold his dietary choice. The older male was unhappy and looking to brawl. “Perhaps if you tried harder to please your female, she would cease her pitiful wailing.”
Mylomon took a step forward. “You are young. She will crave a warrior with more experience.”
“Are you that warrior?” Was this a challenge? Was Mylomon so unhappy with his match that he wanted to trade sisters? Disgust and possessive jealousy swept over Kalen, clouding his vision for a heartbeat or two. Meridan was more than a plaything to be traded on a whim. She was his mate. His.
“Peace. That’s just a word of friendly advice.” The predatory smile on the warrior’s face was not friendly or peaceful.
Was this some new scheme? Warlord Paax had promoted the former assassin to the elevated rank of second in command but Kalen did not trust him. Once a backstabbing shadow lurker, always a backstabbing shadow lurker. What benefit was there for Mylomon in this situation? Perhaps this was an attempt to unnerve Kalen. It was no secret he did not hold the former assassin in any high regard. Mylomon was an abomination, after all.
“You’re full of opinions for a male whose mate has not accepted his claim,” Kalen said.
“You’re awfully confident for a male whose doesn’t know what to do with a female.”
Yes, Mylomon wanted to brawl. Kalen slowed his breathing. The black ink of his tattoos itched with irritation. Mylomon conducted his business bare chested. His lack of tattoos evident. He was such a dark purple, even if he had the marks of family and rank, the black ink would disappear into the shadows of his complexion.
Kalen made no reply. As much as he disliked Mylomon, the male was still his superior officer. Even if the superior officer continued to needle him.
“You fear she will accept another’s claim so you pander to her whims,” Mylomon said. “It is beneath a Mahdfel, even a battle innocent male like you.”
Kalen was a medic, true, and had never faced a battle. He began his training as a warrior, as does every Mahdfel until they were diverted into specialties. Leaner than the muscle heavy warrior, Kalen’s form was sculpted and honed. He was designed for agility, not brute strength.
“No name, no family, no rank and no honor.” Kalen sneered out the words. His patience had worn thin. Designed for darker purposes, Mylomon and his unique skill set unnerved him. Dishonor clung to the male. “No wonder the female rejects you, assassin.”
Moving fast, Mylomon became a dark blur, and swept low. He knocked Kalen’s feet out from underneath him. The medic landed hard on his back. Mylomon pressed on knee to Kalen’s chest, a hand wrapped around his throat. He applied just enough pressure to make his point. “What I did was necessary,” he growled. “Battle is not tidy. It is messy and sometimes our precious honor gets dirt on it.”
“You did what better warriors refused.”
The pressure on Kalen’s throat increased.
“It must be grand to judge battles you’ve never seen from the safety of your medical bay, but some of us are required to get our hands dirty. My methods saved time and lives.” Mylomon moved his other hand over Kalen’s heart. His fingers dug in. “I’ve reached in and stopped the beating of hearts. Did you know that?”
Kalen had seen enough of Mylomon’s handiwork to know that he did not want to be in this position one second longer. He reached up and grabbed the male’s horns at the sensitive base. Swollen and throbbing from the need to claim his mate, touching the horns was worse than pinching a nerve.
Mylomon jerked his head away but Kalen gripped tight, squeezing. He shifted enough and Kalen rolled away.
“I’ve seen your handiwork,” Kalen said, rising to his feet.
Mylomon grimaced, touching his forehead gingerly. “You dislike my methods but I am merely a tool for our warlord. As are you, medic.”
“I dislike the kind of tool you are.” Mylomon’s abilities were… unpredictable. An abomination against order.
A smile broke across Mylomon’s face. “I appreciate an honest answer. I return to the Judgment tonight with my mate. You may return when you’ve assessed your mate’s health and deem her well enough for teleportation.” He clapped Kalen on the back, hard enough to cause the leaner man to stumble but Kalen braced himself and growled a warning. “Good to see you have fire in your blood after all, medic.”
Even after Mylomon left, the notion that this encounter was a test lingered. No doubt Mylomon would report his findings to the warlord. Kalen had no idea what the dark warrior sought.
Chapter Ten
Meridan
Daisy brushed Meridan’s hair and pulled it back into a sensible braid.
“So you’re matched,” she said, trying to prompt her normally talkative sister into conversation.
“I am.”
Meridan swatted her hands away. “Enough of the stoic silence. You’re not over-the-moon delirious with joy. Talk.”
Daisy sighed. She sat at the foot of the bed, fidgeting with the brush. “It’s just… A lot happened all at once. I don’t think I’ve eaten or slept in the last two weeks.”
“You do look like crud.”
Her lips briefly tugged up into a smile. “You’re not looking so hot yourself.”
“Pfft. I’m perfection. My skin is flawless.” Her hand drifted to her scar. Well, the location of her former scar.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Daisy said. “I mean, it’s great tha
t Mylomon agreed to stay until you woke. And I always wanted to be matched. And I guess I knew that meant we wouldn’t be together but now that it’s happening…”
Meridan’ squeezed her sister’s hand. “We’re going to be all right.”
“We’re tough nuts.” It was an old phrase they chanted during the dark days of the invasion. When they had no food, no heat, and bombs were shaking the ground, they knew they would pull through.
Kalen brought her a slice of chocolate cake with a scoop of melting ice cream. She wanted to smile but it hurt too damn much. Daisy produced a white dress with yellow flowers. It was disgracefully faded and worn but it was Meridan’s favorite thing to wear when lounging about her apartment. She dressed, with assistance, and stood on shaky legs, ready to be tested.
“You must rest. I will carry you,” Kalen said, gathering her in his arms without the slightest bit of exertion. “Tomorrow I will evaluate your recovery.”
Meridan knew she should have been offended. She was perfectly capable of walking. Or using a wheelchair. She didn’t need to be carried like a child but, she reluctantly admitted, it was nice. He cradled her soft body against the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. She fit perfectly in there, like they were designed to be complementary pieces, her curves against his hard mass. And he was hard everywhere she touched.
A blush crept over her face. Was he hard everywhere everywhere?
Her head rested against his shoulder. The rhythmic thud thud of his heart soothed her.
“Are you well? You are pink,” he said, voice concerned.
She buried her face, not wanting to admit the real reason for her blush. The motion of him holding her, enveloped by his masculine scent was… stimulating. He didn’t need to know that.
Kalen dipped his head and nuzzled next to her ear. “I can smell your arousal, wife. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You have a very desirable husband.”
“I’m not your wife yet,” she said quietly.
“Oh gross,” Daisy said with an eye roll, “we can hear you.”
Meridan buried her face into his chest, trying not to think about how masculine and clean the fabric of his white coat and scrubs smelled.
The test which matched genetically compatible females to Mahdfel males was surprisingly simple. Well, the traditional test was a sniff. The males could detect compatibility by smell. The new test was more efficient and eliminated the awkward situations where two males decided a female smelled interesting.
The nurse on shift read the consent form to Meridan. She nodded and pressed her thumb to a glass tablet. The nurse drew a small vial of blood and all that was left was to wait.
“When will you return to your duty, medic?” Mylomon asked Kalen. The hulking warrior could be as silent as whisper and Meridan would swear he could disappear into a shadow. She forgot he was present. The way Daisy shifted in her seat, back rigid and her brow furrowed, Meridan guessed her sister had the opposite problem. She wanted to forget her mate.
“When I am certain my mate’s health is stable,” Kalen said.
“I’m not your mate. Yet,” Meridan said automatically. “What happened to Ishraam?”
Her cheeks blushed with shame. In the flood information bombardment, she’d forgotten to ask.
“The little warrior and his mother visited you daily,” Kalen said. “He also informed all the males that you were to be his mate.”
Meridan laughed, the muscles in her chest aching but the pain was worth it. That sounded exactly like Ishraam. “He was injured?”
“He remains unharmed and whole, thanks to you.”
“Well, using myself as a meat shield wasn’t exactly clever.”
“It was selfless and admirable,” Kalen said. His hand lightly touched hers. She didn’t flinch or draw away. She unexpectedly enjoyed his admiration. She smiled and held his gaze. His eyes were green like a new leaf. She had never noticed before.
The nurse entered the room. Meridan snatched her hand away from Kalen, turning her head away. “Okay, the first results are back. You have a ninety-nine point eight percent match.”
“With?”
“Medic Kalen Halse.” The nurse thumbed through forms on the tablet. “You already have a translator implanted, so we don’t have to worry about this page. You read the rights and responsibilities before we started.”
“So that’s it? The computer took like five minutes.” How could a program upend her life in less than five minutes?
“Three minutes, actually. It’s a very strong match. The program is still running through all the potential candidates but you’re not going to get better than ninety-nine point eight. Legally I must tell you there is a point two percent chance of death during pregnancy. Sign here.”
Meridan pressed her thumb to the tablet again.
“And indicate here that you willingly enter into a marriage contract and agree to be teleported to your match’s location. The marriage will be finalized when you and your match copulate.” Meridan pressed the tablet. The nurse folded the tablet to her chest and gave her a weak smile. “Congratulations on your union.”
Meridan didn’t feel like she should be congratulated. All she did was nearly kill herself and get repaired too well by alien tech.
She felt abandoned.
Mylomon stepped in front of her and Daisy. “Your sister is fed, dressed and tested. I have waited the agreed length of time. We leave now, wife.”
For the first time Meridan noticed the size difference between the two warriors. Kalen was no slouch. Taller and more solid than any human man, he was diminutive next the other warrior. Daisy had got herself a big brute of an alien warrior, which is what she’d always wanted. So why didn’t she look happy?
“Oh Meri,” Daisy said, tears wetting her lashes.
Meridan opened her arms for an embrace. “Don’t cry. We’re tough nuts. Remember what Papa always says.”
“Shelter, fire, water, food and hygiene?” A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Their father was a survival nut and had taught his daughters how to live in the wilderness, just in case another alien invasion happened.
“We’ll always be together here.” Meridan pressed her palm to the center of Daisy’s chest. Her sister nodded, a few tears spilling. She folded her sister into a hug and tried to convey all her love and how much she would miss her. This was the day Daisy had always hoped for and the day Meridan dreaded. Meridan most likely would never see her sister in the flesh again. View screens were good but they weren’t the same.
“You’re going to call me every day. We're going to talk every day. And you’re going to have a good life with your strong warrior and have so many beautiful babies. And you’ll always be safe.” Just like she’d always wanted.
“Yeah. You, too.” Daisy pulled away, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.
Meridan couldn’t picture that for herself but she nodded and smiled for her sister.
“It is time,” her sister’s dark mate growled.
“You need to rest,” her mate said.
Daisy gave her a kiss on the cheek and one last hug before their new mates pulled their lives apart in different directions.
Kalen swept Meridan up into his arm. She twisted around and watched Daisy’s receding figure as they moved down the corridor. She refused to cry, refused to let Daisy hear her sobs. A turn in the corridor removed them from view. The tears started uncontrollably. Her chest heaved and her throat constricted, a pitiful mewling noise sounded. Crying wasn’t pretty or glamorous. It was a snotty, puffy mess. She buried her face in Kalen’s shirt, ashamed and unable to stop.
She was alone now. Papa Vargas was on Earth. Daisy was headed… somewhere. All she had was Kalen, a male who attracted and frustrated her in equal measure. A male who didn’t want her, who kissed her and pretended it hadn’t happened, and was now saddled with her. Good way to start a marriage, right? Self-pitying tears came harder now. Frustration with herself and the broader situation rolled in her stomach.
A concession for his blubbering wife. It would have been thoughtful if it wasn’t clearly a ploy to make her sobbing cease. At least he didn’t bark at her to cease her Terran bawling.
“I’d like to sleep in my own bed tonight,” she said, her voice rough from her Terran bawling. He nodded, ceding to her wish.
Her apartment was exactly how she’d left it, down to the dirty laundry on the bedroom floor. Kalen gave a quick nod. “This is adequate.”
“And your place is better?”
“My chambers on the Judgment are spacious enough to meet the needs of myself, my mate and our future offspring. Here,” he waved his hand vaguely at the apartment, “I barely have enough room to think.”
“Sorry it’s not a palace,” she muttered.
Kalen reached for her hand. “I do not require a palace. I require you.”
She snorted but her nose was still dripped from her crying jag. All that came out was a gross, gurgling noise. It was sweet the way he pretended not to be disgusted.
Kalen strode into the bedroom and began to strip.
What the Stars was that male doing…
“We’re not having sex. I know my rights. We don’t do it unless I want it.” And she didn’t want sex. Not right that minute. She was an emotional wreck. Sex would make everything so much more complicated. Maybe in a week or so when she’d had time to adjust. So much had changed. She needed to wrap her head around that first before she jumped into bed with her handsome new husband.
And he was handsome. There was no denying that. She stood in the doorway, admiring the taunt muscles of his shoulders, his trim waist and thick thighs. As if sensing her gaze, he tossed a wicked grin at her over his shoulder. A heated blush overtook her.
Yup, too damn handsome.
A complex pattern of black ink spread across his shoulder and chest. The ink shimmered faintly in the light. Meridan had seen enough shirtless Mahdfel males walking around SCLB to recognize that the more complex the design, the more accomplished the warrior. The exact meanings of the design were unknown, but she understood that Kalen was very accomplished. She had also heard enough gossip from the Mahdfel’s human brides to know that the tattoo glowed when the male was aroused. What would that even be like? Would it shine like a beacon? Would it cast light on his face as he stretched over her…?
Kalen: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 2) Page 7