by Cynthia Sax
Her stubborn male was attempting to fly while carrying two grown females. Rhea shook her head and hooked her arm with Paloma’s, securing her sister.
Orol’s muscles flexed against her form. His arms were strapped across her legs.
They lifted off, leaving the ground, and Rhea’s breath hitched. Every beat of his wings propelled them skyward. They moved slowly, very slowly.
“You’re under strain.” She lowered her voice so only he could hear her. “We’re too heavy. I could have walked.”
“You weigh nothing, my tiny mate.” Orol murmured those words into the wind. “The issue isn’t weight but comfort. Your sister doesn’t fit on my shoulder as well as you do.”
“She isn’t made for you.” Rhea’s satisfaction was mixed with concern. Paloma slipped more and more to the right. Rhea tried to pull her closer.
“Stop. Wiggling,” Orol commanded.
She froze. “Am I making this harder for you?”
“You’re making me harder for you.” He angled his body to the left and Paloma slid toward Rhea. “If I wasn’t carrying your sister, I’d introduce you to the joys of mating while in flight.”
She suspected she’d like that. “And if you weren’t carrying me?”
“My ass coverings would be fitting more comfortably.” Orol gave her the verbal confirmation she required. “Your scent is tormenting me and my body doesn’t care that we’re not alone.”
“I care.” Her face heated. They couldn’t fuck in front of her sister.
“I know.” He carried them over the threshold to their chambers, folding his wings behind him. “We’ll rest here until sunrise and then leave.”
Orol set first Paloma, then Rhea down on the sleeping support. His hands lingered on Rhea.
She dropped her gaze. He was hard, the bulge in his ass coverings pronounced. “None of that.” Rhea pushed his hands away from her. “Not here and not now.”
Though Paloma likely wouldn’t have noticed their activities. She burrowed her face against the sleeping support and closed her eyes, a small smile curling her lips.
Rhea draped another covering cloth over her sister, tucking her in. Orol watched her, his eyes bright. Paloma made no indication she noticed the action.
Rhea’s gaze shifted to her aroused male. They had rescued her sister. That was reason for celebration.
Rhea stood. “I have to use the cleansing chamber.” She exaggerated the sway of her hips as she walked toward the small space. Her ass coverings parted with each step, displaying bare leg. “Are you coming?” She glanced over her shoulder and gave Orol her most beguiling smile.
“I’m coming.” Her winged male gave her a lust-filled look. “And so will you. I have four reprimands to deliver.” He knew that turned her on.
Rhea wiggled her ass. She was a fortunate female.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun rose, peeking over the horizon. Orol paced, his tread silent, his wings fluttering.
All his opponents had been defeated. They had won Rhea’s sister. She was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world around her. Rhea petted her hair, peered at her anxiously. The love on her beautiful face might have made him envious.
If he hadn’t been focused on the trials ahead.
Their challenges weren’t over. Humanoid Alliance warriors would be positioned between the mining fields and the Refuge, waiting for them. The three of them would be outnumbered and outgunned.
He hadn’t yet figured out a solution to that problem when the Host appeared outside their chambers. Orol opened the doors and gazed at the small male.
The Host gazed back at him, his expression blank. He was like Rhea in that way. The two of them hid all their inner thoughts from strangers.
“We understand you will be leaving us, Fighter Wings.” The Host’s tone was bored. “You will require these.” He handed Orol a stack of folded garments.
“Thank you.” Orol doubted that was the male’s primary reason for being there.
“We have been informed that the Humanoid Alliance is unhappy with the results of the battle.” The Host’s cool-eyed gaze met his. “They are expressing their dissatisfaction outside the exit.”
“That must be… distressing.” That was an understatement. There was one exit from the mining fields and that gate allowed one being to leave on foot at a time. They would be ambushed.
“A third party is dealing with them.” The Host plucked at his cuffs.
Orol spotted the glint of metal. His gaze raised to the male’s neck. Fabric covered it. He had never seen it bare.
The Host was wearing restraints. He was no more free than the slaves given as prizes.
“The confrontation is making some of our credit-heavy patrons nervous.” The male finally stated the real reason behind his visit. They were being evicted.
Orol wouldn’t wait for that announcement. “We’re departing soon.”
“To compensate for the unusual nature of this battle, you will be escorted from the site by a representative from the third party.” The Host turned. “Ahhh… here is your escort.”
The figure lumbering along the corridor was as familiar to Orol as his own wings. A grin spread across his face. The odds of them surviving had increased considerably.
Although the space had been designed to accommodate huge fighters, Balvan had to duck to avoid hitting his bald head against the ceiling. His chest was bare as usual. Custom-crafted guns decorated his ass coverings. The male dwarfed the four heavily armed guards accompanying him.
“Who is guarding your gate?” Orol was honored his friend had left his post to assist him.
“Dare.” Balvan didn’t appeared impressed with that choice. “He has a team of five assigned to him.” The six males combined might equal the massive green gatekeeper. “I put Hulagu’s mate in charge of the puffker. For some unknown reason, she named the tiny beast Sparkles.”
Orol stifled a laugh. His friend sounded disgusted.
“Escort Balvan’s admission to the mining fields extends to this planet rotation only.” The Host looked sternly at Orol, not at all amused with their conversation. “You would be wise not to test our generosity, Fighter Wings.”
“We won’t.” Orol assured him. He preferred to leave on their own terms.
“Fighter Wings.” The Host nodded to him. “Escort Balvan.” He dipped his head toward the gatekeeper. “It has been a pleasure interacting with you. We hope not to see either of you again.”
The male walked away, taking his guards with him.
“He’s a crazy little being.” Balvan raised his eyebrows.
“You don’t know half of it.” Orol ushered his friend into the chamber, closing the doors behind them. Rhea glanced at them, her eyes widening at the sight of the massive warrior. Paloma remained unconscious, sleeping away the effects of the psychotropics. “Rhea, this is Balvan.” He made the introductions. “Balvan, this is Rhea, my mate.” He stressed the relationship.
“Mate, yes, I smell that.” Balvan’s nose twitched. “You are one of the sisters.” Rhea nodded. The male’s gaze lowered to the sleeping support. “And she must be the other one.”
“Her name is Paloma.” Rhea gathered the girl closer to her, her actions adorably protective.
When they produced offspring, his female would be a fierce mother. Orol grinned. “Balvan is a friend. He won’t harm your sister.”
“He might not intend to harm her.” She glared at him. “But you said your friend likes to crush skulls under his boots and I prefer my sister’s skull the way it is.”
Balvan’s face turned a darker shade of green. “Those skulls were deliberately crushed.” His gaze slid to Orol. “You told your mate about me?”
“Of course he told me about you.” Rhea answered for him. “He loves you.”
It was Orol’s turn to be embarrassed. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to say anything.” She rolled her eyes. “It was obvious from your tone. And he loves you or he woul
d have never abandoned his beloved gate to come here.”
An awkward silence followed that declaration.
Orol shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, avoiding Balvan’s gaze. Yes, he loved the big green male. He was one of his brethren. But warriors didn’t talk about their feelings to other warriors. “Let’s act as though this conversation never happened.”
“Agreed.” The other male’s voice was gruff. “Humanoid Alliance warriors are waiting for us outside the site.”
“How many warriors are positioned at the exit?” Orol was relieved the topic had changed to battle, a discussion he was more emotionally equipped to handle.
“They have six ships, hundreds of beings.” Balvan shrugged. “We brought three ships and we have the support of the locals.” Few beings on Carinae E liked the Humanoid Alliance. “Once we reach the ships, we should be safe.”
“The ships will be parked far from the exit due to the boulders.” Rhea left her sister to join the conversation. “The Humanoid Alliance warriors will be positioned high on the rocks. They’ll try to pick us off as we leave.”
Balvan stared at her. “I like you.”
“She’s taken.” Orol wrapped one of his wings around her, pulling her closer to him. “The exit is narrow but tall.” He gave her the garments the Host had delivered. “They’ll expect us to leave on foot.”
“Instead, we’ll fly.” Rhea nodded. “Surprise them.”
“I’ll fly.” He corrected. “I’ll clear the area. Balvan will follow, carrying you and your sister.”
His friend nodded. “I’m large. I’ll shield you from the projectiles.”
“I’m sure you would.” Rhea smiled at Balvan and then her gaze returned to Orol, where it belonged. “And how will you clear the area? Will you shoot them?” She lifted her eyebrows. “You’ll have to. Because they’ll have guns. If you use your talons, they will pump you full of projectiles.” Her lips flattened. “It will also be too slow.”
“I’ll shoot them.” He conceded. She had made her point. Killing them with his talons, his preferred method of ending lives, would be too slow.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never seen you shoot anything.”
“I’m a modified humanoid, have fought countless battles.” He stood straighter.
“I’ve fought beside him during nine hundred and sixty-two of those battles.” Balvan vouched for his prowess. “I only had to save his life five times.” He held up five thick fingers.
“You’re not helping me.” Orol’s tone was dry. “I can wield every known weapon.” He told his mate. “My skill with a gun is—” He remembered whom he was speaking to and stopped talking.
“Your skill with a gun is—what?” She crossed her arms under her small breasts. “Better than mine?”
“No.” Orol shook his head. “Frag no. Not even close.”
“She’s human.” Balvan pointed out. “How can she outshoot you? Her vision is limited. Her reaction time is slow.”
“It doesn’t matter. She can. I’ve never seen anyone shoot like she does.” Pride expanded Orol’s chest. “My mate is gifted.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I trained hard.”
Orol had trained hard also. That hadn’t increased his skill to her level.
“You’re an adequate shot.” Her descriptor pricked his ego. He had never been adequate at anything. He excelled, especially at killing. She merely excelled more. “Yet we’re sending you out to clear the area.”
“I can complete my mission.” Did she doubt that?
“At great risk to yourself.” Her frown deepened.
He said nothing. She was right. He wouldn’t die but he’d likely be shot. Multiple times.
Rhea unfolded one of the garments. The body covering was constructed with two layers. The top layer of fabric was gold-colored and semi-transparent. The inner layer of fabric matched the color of his female’s skin. “Feel this.”
Orol slid his right hand over the surface. It was surprisingly sturdy. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and index finger. “It’s body armor.” The damn Host had a sweet spot for Rhea.
“There’s a set for Paloma also.” Her sister’s garments were blue. “Turn around. I’ll put this on her.”
Orol didn’t know why he had to turn around. Every being in the mining fields had seen her sister naked. But he obeyed her because he suspected the alternative was a projectile in the groin.
“I like her.” Balvan grinned, turning around also.
Every male who met Rhea liked her a little too much for Orol’s comfort. The males on her home planet must have been mentally unstable. She was a female to be treasured, guarded.
“She’s mine.” He told Balvan a second time. Fabric rustled behind him. Skin slid over skin. Rhea’s sister mumbled. “I’m putting her safety in your hands.”
He didn’t want to do that but he couldn’t carry both females and battle the Humanoid Alliance at the same time. And Rhea would want to stay with her sister. She was her female’s priority and he accepted that. Begrudgingly.
“I won’t let you down.” Balvan’s lips flattened, his expression turning serious. “I heard about Scales.”
Orol flinched. The male had been Balvan’s friend too. “It had to be done.”
“Not by you.” Balvan rested his hand on Orol’s shoulder. “After the incident at the beverage outlet, he sent me a communication, said he had a favor to ask of me, one I wouldn’t like. I knew what he was asking and delayed sending my response.”
Scales had known his end was near. Sadness filled Orol’s soul. “Is that why you’re here now?”
“I didn’t know about Scales until I arrived.” Balvan squeezed his shoulder. “I’m here for you.”
Orol hid his emotions under a squint. “You’re not going to tell me you love me, are you?”
“Frag no.” Balvan released a booming laugh. “Your mate has some unusual ideas about warriors.”
His mate was extremely observant and likely knew more about warriors than they did. “She’s human…and female.” He offered those facts as an explanation.
“This human female is going to save your ass,” she declared behind him.
He turned and blinked. Her new garments gave the impression she was naked under the flimsy gold top fabric. His gaze lowered to her breasts. Her nipples were taut, pressing against the cloth, and his cock hardened.
She gazed at him. Balvan did also.
Frag. It was his turn to talk. “How are you saving my ass?”
“Can I trust you with my sister?” She ignored his question, turning toward Balvan. “Will you protect her with your life?”
Balvan nodded.
“Because your life is on the line.” Orol’s female rose to the tips of her toes. The impact was negligible. The top of her head didn’t reach Balvan’s elbow. “I’ll shoot you if anything happens to her.”
Balvan looked at Orol.
“She will,” Orol confirmed. “She stabbed me in the gut when we first met.” He rubbed his stomach and smiled fondly at his female. She smiled back at him.
“You’re a lucky male, Orol.” Balvan rumbled. “Nothing will happen to your sister, little female.”
“Then I’ll fly with Orol.” Rhea palmed guns in both of her hands. “Orol navigates. I’ll shoot, clearing the space. We’ll also cover Balvan as he carries Paloma toward the ship.”
Orol’s mouth dropped open. “You’re flying with me?”
Furrows formed on her forehead. “That’s what I said.”
Her sister meant everything to her, yet she was flying with him. “You’re choosing me?” He stared at her, struggling to absorb that revelation. “You’re choosing me.” He swept her into his arms, his wings flapping. “Me.” He laughed, the momentum driving them upward, his booted feet leaving the floor.
“I’m not choosing anyone.” She grumbled against his chest. “I’m the best shooter. It’s logical that I fly with you.”
“You’re choosing
me.” Logic had nothing to do with his female’s decision. “You love me.”
Balvan groaned. “Not more love talk.”
“I didn’t say I loved you.” She smacked his shoulders. “Put me down. We have to leave the mining fields this planet rotation.”
She didn’t say she loved him but she didn’t say she didn’t love him. Orol hugged her close to him. That told him everything he needed to know.
His female loved him.
***
It took several more moments to organize the mission, to decide on the details. Balvan had memorized their battlefield and had already plotted the shortest route to the nearest ship. Orol and Balvan, having fought together in the past, knew each other’s abilities, their top speeds. Orol was cognizant of Rhea’s skills. Paloma remained in a psychotropic daze.
Orol led the team through the exit tunnel. Rhea followed him, her guns in her hands, close enough for him to monitor, to protect. Balvan, carrying Paloma, brought up the rear.
Rhea’s sister had smiled at the big male when he swung her into his arms. Balvan had been temporarily stunned. Females usually feared the large green male because of his tremendous size.
Orol suspected Balvan would have safeguarded her with his life for that gift alone.
There were very few beings in the tunnel and they didn’t pay the four of them any attention. Most of the attendees had deemed to stay in the mining fields for an additional planet rotation. The organizers had scrambled to fill the empty slots in the schedule, providing the entertainment. Ten fighters were meeting in the ring, willing to die for a handful of sunstones.
Orol’s planet rotations of looking for fights were over. He no longer needed to seek out excitement. Protecting the Refuge and his female, without being shot in the groin, posed big enough challenges for him.
Rhea continued to grumble behind him about males who made huge assumptions about other beings’ feelings, threatening a projectile delivered to the body part of her choice if that happened again.
That she dwelled on that topic assured Orol his assumption was right.
She loved him.
Four guards were positioned inside the gates, chattering about the carnage at the sunrise gathering, getting most of the details wrong.