ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2)

by Penelope Fletcher

  ‘I struck out with my mates.’ Lumen stuck out her bottom lip. She plucked at the thickest gold marriage band on her upper arm. ‘Wyn is buying me dinner. If I’m not having sex, then I want cake.’

  Charmed, Beowyn smiled at her then flicked his gaze to his Commander. ‘You are needing me?’

  ‘I received a report. You need to hear it. I tried your frequency.’ His voice rose in query. ‘You did not answer.’

  ‘Here and now is as good a place as any.’ Beowyn did not elaborate why he’d avoided answering his SonCom.

  Éorik opened his mouth then seemed to think better of it and closed it. He spread his legs, clasped his hands behind his back and relayed news from their territories. ‘Wyrhild had to control squabbling between the minor alphas.’

  ‘Mykyn,’ Beowyn ground out thinking of the ambitious Verak male.

  Mouth twitching, Éorik nodded.

  Rage was followed by irritation when he thought of how the minor alpha was posturing instead of soothing the general populace in the wake of news his Great One had been attacked. ‘All we can do is hope the Mighty Boar watches over them until we return.’

  ‘As you say.’ Éorik glanced about pointedly. ‘Sìne?’

  Ashamed to have been set aside by his One, Beowyn did something he had never before done with his Commander. He lied. ‘She rests. It is for the best as I have pressing treaty matters to resolve.’

  Éorik’s head rocked back. ‘Do you have need of me?’

  ‘No.’ Beowyn’s eyes slid to the side and alighted on a solution. His protector would never let him sit before a foreign dignitary without protection. Unless it was someone he trusted beyond doubt. ‘Ambassador Lumen and I are fine.’

  Said Ambassador blinked rapidly when their attention to turned to her but kept her mouth shut.

  ‘Surely the discussion can wait?’ Éorik glanced between them. ‘Would this time not be best spent wooing Sìne?’ Before he could further press, Éorik’s SonCom chimed. He took it out to glance at the screen. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. ‘Though I do not understand what is so urgent, I shall leave you to enjoy your evening. Message my frequency if I am needed.’

  Lumen gnawed her lip. She nodded but said nothing.

  ‘Of course.’ Beowyn was fascinated by his shiny boots.

  They listened to his retreating footsteps fade into the jangling music and babble of excited, disparate voices.

  It took Lumen all of a heartbeat to get in his face. ‘What was that Wyn?’ Her hand clamped around his forearm and shook. ‘What treaty matters do we need to talk about? You know I don’t care you broke our agreement, right? I’m not angry anymore. I understand the Grae Clan wanted to come with Sìne and Fergie.’ At the guilty look, he failed to hide, her eyes rounded. Her hand pressed her chest. ‘Oh, my goodness. Did you just lie to Ori?’

  ‘Sìne rebuffed my invitation.’ Unsaid was how much that rejection stung. He could barely look his best friend in the eye. ‘She sent me away.’

  Lumen’s quick intake of breath and soft eyes made his stomach clench.

  Grinding his teeth, he shut his eyes. Pity was the worst. ‘Thank the Ancestors, Éorik did not look at me the way you look at me now. There would be no coming back from that.’

  She hugged his horned head to her bosom like a mother would her cub. ‘Do you know what you need?’

  Head lifting, he attempted a grin. ‘A casket of fermented nectar and a flock of Baxnonian whores?’

  ‘I was going to say a shoulder to cry on, but I guess I’m old fashioned.’

  As he had nothing better to do, Beowyn let Lumen guide him where she would. There was no fermented nectar. Nor were there bountiful courtesans.

  There was a cub who stared as she mouthed an icy pillar of candied fruit because she refused to eat her grains.

  After Lumen had convinced him to check on her newborn, she reunited with her mates and insisted they revive the evening by sampling the local cuisine. They’d bumped into his human-kin, and he’d had the brilliant idea to spend time getting to know his cub.

  The next he knew, they were in the child-friendly sector eating Bax delicacies, his adopted cub curled up in his lap, and Bravest alternately yanking his mane from the roots or eating it.

  Beowyn had never bent his thoughts to those of fatherhood. He knew of cubs. He blessed them when asked, and protected them as was their right under his rule, but never had he considered what it meant to be responsible for a defenceless thing from such a young age; to feed it, clothe it, love it.

  Perhaps, he thought, I should begin by not calling it it.

  He cast about for something that might build a rapport between them. ‘Tell me, sweetling, what gift are you wanting for your naming day?’

  Sìne mentioned the cub marked another solar of growth while they were stranded on the jungle planet.

  Wide green-brown eyes blinked. The fruit stick popped from her mouth, shiny with saliva. She eyed him slyly. ‘Toys.’

  ‘What kind must I buy?’

  She tapped a finger to her chin. She shrugged. ‘All toys in the world. I’m a good girl.’ She smiled winningly.

  ‘You are indeed.’ He’d heard Sìne say so many times. He pondered the request. ‘I fail to see a reason why you cannot have whatever your heart desires.’ It was a trivial thing, and if it made her happy, why shouldn’t he provide? He would simply tell a master toymaker to send one of each plaything made on Vayhalun. ‘Everything it is.’

  ‘Okay! I like ye. Let’s be friends.’ The frozen fruit stick was shoved back into the pink maw. She hummed happily and slurped as it melted.

  Straightening, Beowyn beamed. ‘Very well.’ He stored the parenting tactic for use in future. If you gave a cub sweets, it was nice. If you gave it presents it did whatever you wanted.

  And people complained child rearing was hard.

  Perhaps he would be best at this too.

  ‘She is learning to speak.’ Fiercely patted her copper curls. ‘She looks just like her life giver. You are blessed.’ He growled softly at his son when he fretted over a lack of attention, and let the hatchling bite at his quills.

  ‘This delay in speech is common among human young?’ Verak were able to communicate rotations after being born. Their aptitude for language continued into maturity. Beowyn himself now spoke the tongue his human-kin. ‘What if my human-Verak cubs have such an impediment?’

  ‘Humans grow slowly. Brave has started holding his head up unaided. It is very slow for a Rä hatchling, they do not need to learn such a thing, but he did not incubate inside Lumen’s womb,’ he cringed at the word, ‘for as long as a Rä female nests. My Lumen says full human offspring need a solar to learn walking, and longer to learn swimming.’

  ‘Fascinating.’ Beowyn could not imagine caring for something that could not tell you its needs nor move from place to place unaided for solars.

  It would be an adventure.

  He loved the unknown, so he decided to look forward to the challenge.

  Crystalline chimes dropped the ambient noise levels to minimal, and every holoscreen in the eatery turned to the same channel. The glowing white and amber seal of the Intergalactic Alliance revolved before fading, and a sombre, wrinkled Baxnonian with a whitening feather crest came into focus. ‘With deep sadness and regret, we report the destruction of Od, the native home world of the L’Odo species.’ The representative wore grey and black robes, stood with his hands pressed at his middle, fingertips pointing down in a gesture of peace. ‘Our esteemed Council assures registered members we did not sanction this attack, nor do we condone it. Due to the L’Odo’s recent expulsion from our ranks, no legal action will be taken in redress and no investigation was undertaken but that which we feel prudent for record-keeping.’ His wizened face creased further. Triad pupils were large and kind in his light brown-yellow face. ‘In the spirit of kindness, we urge member planets to help these unfortunates in whatever manner you feel best, so as to mitigate the suffering of the innocent. Should y
ou wish to offer information for the records, please contact your quadrant supervisor or ambassador.’

  The holoscreens returned to their usual programmes, a few displaying local news reports with images of a broken, burning world as they speculated on Od’s abrupt annihilation.

  More out of surprise than respect or grief, the eatery remained quiet for a beat before hushed conversations returned to boisterous levels.

  Beowyn stared unseeing into the middle distance. His arms curled around his cub, an unconscious attempt to protect. A queer sensation stirred in his gut, a warning of danger to come.

  He turned to consult the Rä and found their attention fixed Lumen.

  Expression wreathed in concern, edging closer to his mate, Fiercely jounced Bravest, the whimpering hatchling sensing his mother’s distress and his fathers’ anxiousness.

  Mylky brown skin had leeched of vitality and filmed with a layer of sickly moisture. ‘Tell me I had nothing to do with that.’ Lumen’s whisper went unanswered. ‘Did I do that?’ Her face crumpled. ‘Did I make it so that awful thing could happen?’

  Beowyn grew cold watching the consequences of their actions dawn on her face. He was accustomed to the decisions he made affecting great numbers of people for good and ill. The news of Od disturbed him, yes, but not because he felt responsible. It was unexpected. He’d heard no rumours of war amongst his allies; those of the Alliance who would be strong enough to manage an attack of this magnitude.

  In contrast to his impassivity, Lumen’s sorrow was palpable.

  ‘Unintentionally causing harm is a cost of leadership,’ he told her with as much gentleness as he was capable.

  He understood this made the good she tried to achieve seem less worthy, especially when innocent ones had been caught in the carnage, but she needed to be strong in the face of disaster.

  This as a lesson she would learn well and never forget.

  Venomous visibly struggled between telling the truth and making his mate feel better. He banded all four arms around her, pulling her onto his lap. ‘Yesss.’ His rumbling voice was soft.

  ‘Oh God.’ Lumen pressed the back of her hand over her mouth to muffle a sob, shoulders hitching with her strangled cries. ‘I wanted them punished. I didn’t want this.’

  ‘They had many enemies.’ Cobra stroked her cheek.

  Fiercely handed over Bravest. ‘Hold our son. Remember the reasons behind your actions were not greed and malice, but to protect those like our hatchling who are vulnerable. Those who were abducted, tortured, exploited and murdered at the L’Odo Chieftain’s whim.’ He settled the gurgling child in her arms and pressed his mouth to hers.

  She broke from the kiss to cuddle the baby to her breast. She leant against Venomous, silent tears streaming down to her chin. ‘I’m sorry.’

  They said nothing; knowing she spoke to those L’Odo who were not driven by the avarice of their spices, and who now suffered greatly because of her actions to bring their tyrannical leader to account for his heinous crimes.

  The Rä paid for their meal and left.

  Beowyn chomped his steamed dumplings, finished Fergie’s bowl of fragrant, mushy grains, and took her on a walking tour of the perpetually festive planet of Paniki. The pleasure station orbiting the planet was known for its hedonistic excess, would always have a special place in his heart, but it was shockingly delightful to show the tiny human the dry white and spiky landscape; with its black trees and translucent, boulder-sized fruits.

  The indigenous fashion enthralled her. She crowed mostly over the pouffy-skirted dresses, her chubby fingers pointing imperiously at the outfits she most appreciated and desired.

  Baxnonians believed in expression through clothing, so their garments were intricately crafted and wildly textured. Elaborate headdresses framed their lushly feathered crests. Neutral colours highlighted the many shades of their rich yellow skin, drew subtle attention to their famous sexual organs, and exaggerated their furry tails.

  When she exclaimed over a frilly headpiece, he’d haggled with the shopkeeper for a reproduction sized for her small head, and presented it to her with a bowed flourish. ‘Little alpha.’

  ‘Thank ye,’ she gushed shoving it on her head and beaming a cheeky smile.

  A silly crest of garish feathers and painted beads, it looked ridiculous, but she loved it, and it made him proud to give her a token as a remembrance of their first outing as father and daughter.

  Standing on a viewing platform with other tourists, they watched the sprawling nebula in the sky turn from golden hues to silvery ones, the pinks, greens and purples a stunning swirl in the indigo firmament, sprinkled with piercing white stars and framed by a moon much like the one on Earth.

  Soon the dry air chilled.

  Beowyn kept Fergie close to his chest to share his warmth. ‘This is pretty, but you will prefer the welkin of Vayhalun because it is best.’ He grinned when she nodded solemnly. ‘Did you know we Verak came from the stars?’

  She gasped. ‘I come from there too.’

  His face ached he smiled so hard. ‘So you do. Verak came aeons before known history, and not from Earth as you did. The Mighty Boar God travelled from across the galaxy with us riding his strong back. We met with other Gods and celestial beings, gaining the ability to speak many tongues. We feasted in heavenly halls, and learned meanings only the higher beings comprehend. But the Boar God grew weary of wandering. He found a place to rest himself and let his beloved children set foot upon terra. He gifted us mortal bodies of flesh so we might know earthly pleasures. Once he saw how we prospered as land dwellers, he decided to leave us in peace, and continue his travels alone. But we are not abandoned! No, for he returns when his people have need of him, and hears our prayers.’ He stroked Fergie’s head, marvelling at the unique colour of her curls. ‘That is the story of how we inherited Vayhalun, and have thrived off her bounty since.’ He rubbed his nose against hers. ‘What say you to that, my dearest cub?’ A jaw cracking yawn was her answer. He tickled behind her ear. ‘I will retell it when you are older. Come. I think it is time you sleep.’

  She tugged at his pointed ears and chortled.

  Chapter 15

  ‘Good Greetings, High Commander.’

  Éorik tilted his head at the husky rasp. He swivelled in his seat to face the hologram. He draped the edge of a fur over his naked lap with his free hand. ‘Guardian.’ He twisted the end of the braid he tended, finger claws glistening with herb-scented kimmijion serum.

  ‘It is good to see your face.’ Smirking, the Verak female tossed dainty, filigreed horns. Her golden hair swished around her muscled torso. ‘Lah, such pretty scars. There is a tale there, I wager. Perhaps when you return you will visit my atoll and retell it.’

  Ignoring the sensual undertones to her invitation, he grunted a laugh, thumbing the reddish marks slashing up from his jaw. ‘Tell me of home.’

  ‘The Houses did not react well to news of the Great One’s misfortune. The Paladins call for war against the L’Odo scum.’ She paused. ‘The sixth Great House challenged mine, but since hearing of your rescue, Mykyn retreated to making noise.’ Her expression smoothed into smug satisfaction. ‘The Sentinel and I are watchful.’

  ‘I do not doubt it.’ Éorik ground his teeth. He was of the second Great House and would gladly pound Mykyn StoneFang into the dust should he use the unrest to ascend with his poisonous trickery. ‘He is not strong enough to best you let alone the Great Alpha. He is foolish to begin what he cannot finish.’ He heaved a sigh. Politics. ‘If that is all?’

  ‘It may be nothing, but our scientists report increased activity on Oda.’

  Éorik grew still digesting this.

  Largest of the suns in their spiral galaxy, Oda was the most stable sol.

  Should the roiling inferno on its surface quake, it would unleash the worst solar storm his home world had ever suffered. The events fuelled by the smaller sun caused horrific damage, but a maelstrom from Oda would be catastrophic for Vayhalun.
r />   His gaze lifted. ‘Have they assigned a threat level?’

  ‘Not as yet. I have requested an update each rotation.’

  ‘Inform me of critical developments.’

  She bowed her head.

  ‘Good Parting, Wyrhild.’ Éorik tapped the console to switch off his screen, unable to use thought-command as a Ra. It used to be a trait unique to the serpents until humans had been found. Hearing Oda stirred was concerning, but the People’s Guard had a robust system in place to deal with natural disasters caused by their irritable suns. ‘Ancestors, protect them.’ He tried Beowyn’s channel to no avail. With a quick blast to the Great One’s SonCom frequency, he sighed. ‘Very well.’

  He would hunt the male down and deliver his report in person.

  Taking leave of the Rä spaceship, he found his King remained on the pleasure station loitering about the food district. It surprised him. He had expected Beowyn to bind Sìne to his bed and feverishly rut for spans.

  He’d been consciously avoiding thinking of it.

  Head down, arms crossed, Beowyn listened to news of his dominion, snorting when he heard the lower Houses squabbled for dominance.

  He sucked in a breath when the conversation turned to Oda. ‘All we can do is hope the Mighty Boar watches over them until we return.’

  Nodding, Éorik realised Beowyn had yet to look him in the eye. He inquired as to Sìne’s whereabouts and grew concerned when his liege expressed a need to speak to Lumen in an official capacity. Had he neglected his duties because he’d been hiding in his enclosure? He had not wanted to acknowledge the two he ached for enjoyed a tryst without a thought for him. ‘Surely the discussion can wait? Would this time not be best spent wooing Sìne?’ Before Beowyn replied, his SonCom chimed. His hand clenched around the device as he read the message. ‘Though I do not understand what is so urgent, I shall leave you to enjoy your evening. Message my frequency if I am needed.’