Star Crossed

by Heather Guerre

  At last, an opening. He sprinted through just as the human plunged into a thicket of whippy canes, too dense for his big body to follow.

  He swore and cut to the left, sprinting alongside the thicket. The canes rattled as her slender body wove through them. She reached the end of their cover, bursting into the open just as Asier rounded the far side.

  She spied the motion of his big body in the dark, and turned back around, slipping right back into the canes.

  A low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

  Patience. She couldn’t spend all night weaving back and forth through their protection. Eventually, she would tire. And then he would calmly and methodically snap them off, one by one, until he reached her. He hoped she’d come to the same conclusion.

  She did. But instead of resigning to her fate, she turned sideways and pushed towards the opposite side from where Asier paced. He lost valuable time and distance circling the thicket as she sprinted away.

  She was clever. And despite her fear, cool under pressure.

  That only made him want her more.

  His one advantage was that her new exit point forced her to move upland, eating away at her waning strength, slowing her nimble speed.

  The terrain split before her. To her left, a downward slope would carry her back towards the clearing where they’d first encountered each other. To her right, the ground swept upwards in a series of craggy rock ledges. At the top, a narrow plateau ended abruptly above a sheer cliff-face. Below, nothing but open air and a long, long fall down a murky ravine.

  She darted up the ridge, scrambling along a switchback ledge of rock. Her exhaustion was clear as she staggered her way to the top.

  Not smart of her to run uphill. Despite his need to capture her, Asier found himself dismayed by her poor strategy. She’d worn herself out, only to be trapped at the edge of a cliff, with nowhere to run.

  She reached the crest of the ridge, and his sense of victory mingled with disappointment. The chase was over. She was cornered. He slowed his approach, breathing hard as he loped up the ridge.

  But the human wasn’t done yet. Asier watched in horror as she ran off the edge of the cliff and plunged out of sight.

  With a strangled shout, Asier leapt straight up, bypassing the switchback to grasp the edge of the ridge and haul himself bodily to the top. He rolled onto his feet and sprinted to the cliff’s edge on the other side. Below him, another rocky ledge diminished the drop to a survivable height.

  The human moved along the jutting shelf of rock. She gleamed like a sliver of moonlight on a planet with no moon. Her balance was precarious as she followed the cliff’s downward slope toward the marshy ravine.

  No. Panic overrode the predatory drive. The spiders favored wet, dark lowland. Asier leapt down onto the rocky shelf and chased after her. He had height, strength, vision, and foreknowledge of the environment all working in his favor. He only had to get ahold of her before she made it off the rock.

  She was moving slowly now, limping. Beneath the instinct to possess and the obligation to defend, another sensation bloomed: the need to comfort. She was injured, frightened, exhausted. He didn’t want her to be. He wanted her to be safe. He wanted her warm and healthy.

  Asier closed the distance between them quickly. She had to hear the thundering beat of his footfalls and the steady rasp of his breath as he raced towards her. But she didn’t react, didn’t look back, didn’t adjust course. She limped doggedly onward, shoulders hunched.

  She was close enough to grab. He reached out, meaning to be as gentle as possible while still ensuring that she would not escape his hold.

  But the human had one more trick. Asier should have seen it coming. After playing dead, it was about the oldest trick in the book for cornered prey. She dropped to the ground.

  Asier’s hand closed on empty air, and his reach overbalanced him. The toe of his boot hooked against her curled-up body, and he flew past her, crashing to the ground, tumbling over jagged, sloping rock. The brutal collision left him sprawled on his back, blinking against black spots that threatened to eat up his vision. There was a ringing in his head, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

  Smart girl, he thought fondly as he struggled upright. Tough girl.

  He couldn’t think of her as a victim, couldn’t feel sympathy for her, or he’d never catch her. Pretending to himself that unbearable lust didn’t factor into it at all, he instead focused on the fact that she could very well die without him. She didn’t know about the cone trees’ resin. The agonizing burns that had eaten through his tough Scaeven skin would be devastating to fragile human dermis. She didn’t know about the delirium caused by the puff spores, or the hair-stealing reptiles, or the brutal weather extremes. Worst of all, she had no idea about the spiders.

  He got unsteadily to his feet, and looked up the slope he’d just tumbled down. His human was nowhere in sight. A bolt of panic chased away the last dazed remnants of his fall. Coldly acute, he stood stock still, taking survey.

  The only place for her to go was back up the ridge. But that was a long way in her injured state. How long had he laid sprawled on the rocks? Not long enough for her to get beyond the top of the cliff.

  He began the ascent, moving steadily, listening intently, scanning the dark.

  It was the smallest thing. If she hadn’t been so exquisitely colored, he would have missed it. But there, wedged into a small fissure in the face of the cliff, was his human. Her flight suit, black, blended into the darkness perfectly. But her hair, like white gold, caught the faintest hint of light, and gleamed for him.

  He kept his pace steady as he neared her hiding spot. It wouldn’t do to let her know she’d been found. He kept his body oblique as he drew level with the narrow opening. She didn’t make a single sound, but he could nearly hear the frantic pounding of her heart. Asier tilted between predatory victory and sympathy for her fear. She’d be safe soon. Once he had her.

  With viperous speed, his arm shot out. His big hand closed on the front of her flight suit. Gravel sprayed as she struggled against him. Merciless, unrelenting, he dragged her from the crevice. Her boot shot out, and he twisted away just in the knick of time. Her body was small and fragile compared to his, but had that vicious kick connected with his chin, it would’ve rattled his skull good. He ripped her unceremoniously from the rock and pinioned her flailing body tightly against his.

  “I will not harm you,” he rasped in the traders’ tongue. The feel of her lithe, soft form squirming against his was unendurable. He normally never doubted his integrity, but the razor edge of his self-control was quickly thinning away to nothing.

  The human continued to struggle against him, weakly, uselessly. Her breath came in great, sobbing, gasps, and he knew she wasn’t really breathing. She would pass out soon if she didn’t calm down.

  “Please, just listen to me,” he said, a pained note creeping into his voice. Her weak thrashing kept pressing the lush curve of her ass against his cock. She was making him hard. He didn’t want her to feel his erection pressing against her captive body, to ratchet her fear even higher.

  But she felt it. He knew the instant she noticed his response. Her flailing renewed, and she screamed as she fought against him.

  He was aware that humans—especially human females—could make shrill alarm calls. He hadn’t realized quite how shrill. The noise was like a needle being driven into both ears. The sound, sharp and painful, wavered and warped inside his head. He almost dropped her. She was going to crack his skull open. She was going to call every predator within ten leagues. And she was going to alert the traffickers to her exact location.

  Asier turned her in his arms, fisted his hand in her icy hair—exquisitely soft—and pressed his lips to hers.

  He’d never before intoxicated a female who hadn’t asked for it. The Scaeven toxin was an evolutionary adaptation that allowed a species who produced only male offspring to subdue the females of other compatible species long enough to breed them. Nowadays, in
more enlightened times, the toxin was an aphrodisiac Scaevens shared with willing bed partners.

  Asier felt a significant measure of his own self-respect fall away as he parted his lips against hers and swept the tip of his tongue over her lush bottom lip. Within seconds, she relaxed against him, soft and pliant.

  Asier pulled back to see the dreamy, dazed look in her eyes, the rosy flush in her pale cheeks. He stared at her alien beauty, transfixed. He cupped her face with his hand, arrested by the stark contrast of his iron skin against her velvety, shell-colored cheek. Her glacially blue eyes gazed languidly into his, her lips parting.

  Another beat passed before Asier realized his mistake.

  The dangerous lure of human females lay not just in their visual beauty, or the tactile pleasure of their soft flesh—as if those weren’t trouble enough. No. Beneath those obvious enticements, something much more subtle, more beguiling, more insidious, worked a powerful spell over male desire. Pheromones.

  He’d breathed in the scent of her. Tasted her on his lips. Without his even realizing it, she’d sunk into his blood, raced through his veins, taken over his mind. She was a sexual bomb, and he’d been caught in the blast.

  A gust of wind swept through the tree tops, sending leaves fluttering down and bringing in a wave of cold air. It did nothing to cool the heat of his skin, the simmering inferno inside of him. He stood frozen in place, caught in the thrall of something he’d never before been on the receiving end of.

  He wasn’t alone in his debility. The human female stirred against him, letting out a shuddering sigh. She looked up at him, drunk with desire. She brought her arms up to circle his neck and spread her legs to straddle his waist. She clung to him, exactly as he’d wished for, her body molded to his, her pelvis grinding hot circles against his cock.

  Forbidden, Asier tried to remind himself. She’s not—

  Her thighs squeezed his waist as she lifted herself higher, bringing them face to face. She pressed her lips to his again. The taste and smell of her flooded his senses, blotting out thought.

  He was lost.

  He became a creature of pure sensation. He clutched her body against his and devoured her with lips and tongues and teeth. She met his fervor with her own, gasping and sighing as she consumed him with wild, open-mouthed kisses. Her tongue teased against his fangs, twined with his tongue. Her delicate hands roved over his body, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. She writhed in his arms—no longer trying to escape, but to bring herself closer, closer.

  He couldn’t get her close enough. He couldn’t feel her enough, taste her enough, be far enough inside of her. He throbbed with the urgent need to take her, claim her. He would fill her little body with his cock, fill her with his seed, fill her with his child. She’d be his forever.

  She whimpered as one of his canine teeth pierced her lower lip. He tasted her blood, iron and salt. He sucked the injured lip between his, licking the wound. She moaned into his mouth while her hands sought the fastener on his jacket. She opened it, and cold air rushed against his skin—only heightening the intensity of feeling.

  He sank to his knees with her, laid her on the ground. He reached for the tab on the collar of her flight suit, found the zipper.

  The wind whipped again, making the trees dance and sway. Leaves fluttered to the ground.

  He drew the zipper down her body. Down, down, down. Beneath the flight suit she wore nothing. He ran his big hand down the exposed swath of creamy soft skin. She arched her back, pressing up into his touch. The flight suit parted, revealing the perfect, lush mounds of her breasts. Up-pointed nipples, as pink as her swollen lips, hardened to points in the cold. He slid his hands up to cup them, feel them. He swept his thumbs over her peaked nipples, and she bucked against him, letting out a moan that had his cock pulsing in response.

  Above them, lightning cracked across the sky.

  Asier slid down her body, bent his head to take one of those sweet pink points into his mouth. She cried out, arching up to him. Her hands cradled the back of his head, holding fast as he worshipped her breasts with lips and tongue and teeth.

  Lightning flashed again. The wind roared through the trees.

  He slid one big hand into her suit, feeling the warm, smooth heat of her skin as he reached down, down, down, until he found the place he was looking for. Soft, downy hair covered pillowy lips. He dragged his middle finger along their seam, dipping in to find her slick and wet and needy for him. She rolled her hips up, urging his touch deeper. He pushed his finger inside of her and felt the slick, hot, squeeze of her body. A shudder rippled through her. Her panting turned to keening.

  Inside her. He needed his cock inside her, needed to thrust into the hot clutch of that tight pussy over and over and over, needed to fill her with his seed, claim her, get her with his child, make her his—

  Another crack of lightning, and the sky opened. A deluge of icy cold rain fell on them. It was a shocking blast of cold, painful in its intensity. Asier jolted when it hit them, and the human let out a gasp that had nothing to do with arousal.

  The wind howled, driving the rain against them. The drops stung as they pelted against his skin. It would feel like torture to the soft-skinned creature tucked beneath his body.

  Asier looked down at her. His need for her had not abated, but his mind had returned to him with the frozen dousing. He zipped her flight suit closed, gathered her in his arms, and got to his feet. She clung to him, pressing her face into his shoulder, but she did not writhe against him, did not try to resume where they had left off. Bending his head against the harsh, driving rain, he carried her across the ridge. Squinting, he scanned for shelter.

  Beneath an overhanging ledge, a narrow opening in the cliff face offered the best cover. Switching the human to a one-armed carry, he reached for his electron gun and shot a single blast into the cave’s opening. Light danced in a spectral web around a narrow cavern. It was big enough for the both of them, and empty of spiders. He crouched, carrying the human inside, and deposited her on the dry, rocky floor.

  He was soaked through, and freezing, but he would survive. The human, on the other hand, was not so hardy. She curled in on herself, clutching her knees to her chest, shaking with cold. Her teeth chattered. Her lovely pink lips had paled to nearly the same color as her skin, which had gone pallid. She needed help.

  And yet, somehow, despite his worry, Asier still burned for her. Were she not halfway to hypothermic shock, he’d have her impaled on his cock right now. The mental image sent a bolt of lust through him, shaming him. He clenched his jaw, clenched his entire body, and shoved away the feeling.

  He unslung his arc rifle, leaning it against the wall of the cave. He reached into his jacket and pulled out an incendiary ring. He set it on the ground in the middle of the cavern. After a second of searching, he found a flat rock that fit into his palm. He brought it down on the ring in a heavy strike. Green flame shot out from the ring immediately, making the human jump.

  Asier pulled his hand away before the flames grew hot enough to burn him. He backed away until he hit a stone wall, then sank down to sit, as far from the human as possible. She shivered and trembled on the other side of the fire, staring into the green flames with eyes still dazed from his toxin.

  Within minutes, the small cavern was as warm as an engine room. Asier flicked a quick glance at the human. Best not to stare too long, if he didn’t want to be sucked into her beauty again. She still shivered, but not so violently any more. The dampness of her flight suit would be an advantage now, conducting heat quickly. Eventually, it would dry. She would be safe.

  For now.

  “My name is Asier Mor-Talis.” He spoke once again in the traders’ language. It was the only language he knew that a human might also speak.

  She lifted dazed eyes to his face. There was no comprehension in them.

  But he had to try to explain things to her while she was calm. Whether she was sober enough to comprehend, to care, to remember, was not c
ertain. Whether she even understood the language he was speaking was another question. But he had to try.

  “I am a Scaeven—a race that has had contact with humankind in the ancient past, but no longer does. You were abducted by Scaeven criminals. I am not one of them. I will not hurt you. When we can return to my ship, I will transport you to safety.”

  She tilted her head, staring at him dreamily. Her gaze dropped down to the flickering green flames, and an absent smile curled her lips. The color had come back to them, lush and pink once again. Her silken hair had come free of its braid. It spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, reflecting emerald as it dried before the fire.

  Asier tore his gaze away. He stared down at his boots. “What is your name?” If he got her to speak, cajoled her into the analytical portions of her brain, maybe she could resist his toxin in the same way he fought against the lure of her pheromones.

  She didn’t answer him. She continued to smile dreamily. He felt it like a gentle touch as her eyes drifted over the contours of his hard face.

  “What are you called?” he tried again.

  “Lyra Hallas,” she answered finally, distantly. Her voice was soft and light, markedly feminine. More importantly, she spoke the trader’s language. That was a good start.

  “Lyra,” he repeated, testing it on his tongue.

  She stirred at the sound of her name in his mouth. Her gaze traced lazily over his body. Her smile curled a little more. “You’re very big.” She shifted her weight to sit on her hip, one slender leg draped over the other, one arm braced on the ground. She toyed with her zipper, dragging it down slowly to reveal a V of creamy skin. Her eyes glittered in the firelight. “Very big.”

  Asier closed his eyes against the sight of her. A hot rush ran through him. His cock stood at full attention.

  He heard a small noise, and opened his eyes again. Lyra had gotten to her feet. She circled the fire, coming towards him. Asier lurched up, backing away from her.