by Anna Carven
“Go, Nythian,” Enki said softly. Even Enki, who used to be the craziest out of all of them, thought it was a good idea.
Fearing what he might become if he didn’t get some sort of release soon, Nythian exhaled slowly as he nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“What’s Kordolian warrior-speak?” Alexis raised an eyebrow.
Abbey waved a hand nonchalantly. “Trust me, it isn’t a language you or I could ever understand.”
“I’ll be back soon.” Nythian leaned in and allowed Alexis’s scent to envelop him.
She smiled then, and it was the most sublime thing he’d ever seen in his life.
His heart nearly exploded out of his chest. Too late, he realized his claws were out. He could have devoured her whole there and then, exploring her lithe body with his mouth, burying his face in the warm sweetness between her legs.
Shit.
He was too far gone.
He turned away, following Tarak out of the room. It was the only thing he could do.
One more look at her and he would lose it.
FIFTEEN
“WELL, THAT WAS INTENSE.” Abbey said dryly in English as she poured Alexis a mug of steaming green jasmine tea. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.”
They were hurtling through Sector Six at impossible speed and they were sipping fucking green tea. What next, croissants and macarons?
Abbey pulled out a plate of bite-sized cupcakes. “Passionfruit and pineapple,” she said, as if it was perfectly normal to be having tea and cake onboard a Kordolian warship.
Enki was somewhere in the shadows. Alexis couldn’t quite see him anymore, which was unnerving, but she figured she just had to get used to this kind of thing. At least Abbey was speaking English, so he wouldn’t be able to understand them. Sometimes, these Kordolians seemed more like preternatural beings than actual flesh-and-blood aliens. Their bodies were designed for speed and stealth, and the thought of one of them stalking their prey in the darkness sent a chill through her.
Even Nythian, who had not-so-subtly broken down her defenses, who had held her so tenderly… he was still a mystery.
The detective in her wanted to know everything about him.
“What’s so obvious?” Alexis asked, taking a bite of her miniature cupcake. It was crowned with a sweet, tangy translucent glaze that reminded her of home. The flavors exploded in her mouth, the tiny black specks of passionfruit seed that crunched between her teeth only adding to the surrealness of it all.
“Oh, you and Nythian are very much caught up in the whole mating dance, aren’t you? I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s usually a pretty easygoing guy—I mean, most of the time—but he’s clearly besotted with you.”
Oh, I know. The intensity with which he looked at her, the way he made her feel... it scared her a little, because she knew that the moment she surrendered, there was no going back. “Does it always happen this quickly?” she asked quietly.
“Pretty much. He’s actually having a strong physiological reaction to you right now. The Kordolians call it Mating Fever. Everything is heightened. Senses, arousal, aggression, headaches… for anyone who’s not on his side, he’s actually very dangerous to be around right now.”
“That’s why Tarak took him away? Because he was on the verge of losing control?” She’d actually sensed the tension inside him; that feeling of tightly controlled desire, of him very nearly consuming her.
She just hadn’t realized how powerful it was.
“They’ll burn off a little energy in the training room. It won’t cure his mating fever, but he’ll be a little more coherent afterwards. You’re going to have to release him from his misery soon, though.”
“What makes you think I feel the same way about him?”
“Oh, honey,” Abbey chuckled between mouthfuls of cake. “You’re so different to the how you were a few days ago. You’ve got your mojo back, and it’s obviously because of him. I’ve seen the way you look at him. It’s happening, Alexis. Nothing that I tell you can prepare you for it. You’ll just have to experience it for yourself. Honestly, I’m excited for you. Every time this happens, it’s a gift.”
Alexis’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. There was no point in denying her attraction now. Abbey was clearly an old hand at this, a human who was actually mated to a Kordolian… and she definitely wasn’t crazy. “What’s it really like?”
“Being with Tarak?” Her gaze became distant for a moment. “It’s like… imagine you were married to the warmest, most gentle, snarky-but-funny, big-hearted man. But he’s also one of the scariest things in the Universe when he has to be. His world is a dark, terrifying place, but he tries to keep you away from all that, for the most part. Sometimes, you brush against the very edges of that darkness, but you never quite understand it. It doesn’t matter though, because you trust him with all your heart.”
Wow.
“Sounds like I had the wrong idea about Kordolians,” Alexis said quietly. The memory of the attack in the woods wasn’t so raw anymore; she was able to put it in a box and shelve it away in her consciousness with a hundred other traumas.
She thought about Nythian instead, and a warm feeling entered her chest.
“Happens all the time.” Abbey chewed thoughtfully. “You were wrong, but you were also right. Some of them can be evil, evil bastards. Don’t worry, though. I don’t know what happened to you in the past, but our Kordolians would never do anything to make you feel so scared. No matter what happens, always remember one thing. They’re on our side.”
Alexis stared at her for a moment, struggling to process the magnitude of the new world she’d been thrust into. Here was this diminutive, down-to-Earth human, telling her some mind-blowing truths over tea and cake.
In the dark depths of a Kordolian warship.
With a lethal, silent guard watching their every move, just in case the alien inside her head took control of her body and tried to threaten Abbey with a death-touch.
And the alien she wanted to be with most—the only man she wanted—was in the grip of Mating Fever, a state that made him very aroused and very dangerous.
Her heart fluttered. Her cheeks grew hot. Her desire grew a mind of its own, becoming a writhing thing that made her frantic and restless. If Nythian was struck with Mating Fever, then surely she was suffering from it too.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She needed him. Around her, inside her. All of him.
“I have to go,” she blurted, not caring if Abbey saw how much of a hot mess she was right now. She couldn’t stand the thought that he was somehow suffering because of her.
And for what? Because he felt she wasn’t ready… because he’d seen her at her most vulnerable; incoherent, emotional, terrified out of her wits.
He’d seen the secret side of her that she didn’t reveal to anyone, ever, but he hadn’t taken advantage of her.
Sweet man.
His words echoed in her mind like a mantra.
I intend to take you as my mate.
If anyone else had said it, she would have thought they were utterly insane.
“Hey.” Abbey leaned forward, her eyes full of warmth. She was calm and serene, a beacon of sanity amidst all this Kordolian strangeness. Alexis wondered what the hell she’d been through to be able to reach this state. “This is all perfectly normal. You have plenty of time. Those two probably won’t be done for some time yet, so why don’t you get something decent to eat, take a shower, get into something comfortable, relax a little? Don’t worry, I know how it feels. You’re only just starting to feel human again…”
“Yeah.” Alexis looked at her obsidian fingers, curled around the dainty porcelain teacup that had little pink and gold hearts on the side.
Then she laughed, even as tears welled at the corners of her eyes, and it was relief and sadness and excitement and joy, all at once.
“You’re home now, Alexis,” Abbey said gently, and she knew it was true.
There was no turning
back now.
SIXTEEN
A SEARING BOLT of pain shot through Nythian’s fist as it connected with Tarak’s nose, sending another spurt of blood down the General’s face. He was rewarded with a blow to his gut as Tarak’s claws raked across his exposed abdomen.
His body was covered in rapidly healing wounds. Vicious scratches across his face, his arms, his belly. Torn skin on his back. Broken bones. Nanites swarmed through his shattered jaw and cheekbones, knitting them together, making it feel as if a thousand tiny blades were being thrust into his face all at once.
He changed course, stepping backwards, using the General’s powerful momentum against him as he wrapped his hands around the bastard’s arm and pulled him down, landing on his back with a thud.
They grappled on the floor. Tarak locked his legs around Nythian and delivered several vicious blows to his body, his face, his neck, trying to get him to capitulate.
The pain was a wall of fire that completely engulfed him. Blood trickled into his left eye, partially blinding him. This was the kind of fighting Nythian lived for; dirty, brutal, no-holds-barred.
And they were both close to total exhaustion, their movements slower, wilder, lacking their usual deadly precision. Both of them were completely lost in the fight; they’d become primal, savage creatures, running on little more than pure instinct.
They lay on the floor, locked together in a supreme battle of wills, neither showing the other even the slightest sign of weakness.
Somehow, Nythian managed to get his arm around Tarak’s neck. In turn, Tarak dug his claws into Nythian’s belly and twisted. Nythian squeezed harder. Tarak twisted harder. Nythian’s blood gushed out onto the floor. The pain was so intense he started to black out, but still he squeezed harder, harder, his arm crushing down on the boss’s windpipe.
Only the fumes of his anger kept him going.
Kill him!
This bastard had defeated him so many times before.
Not this time. He had to win, had to dominate.
Kill him!
He squeezed harder, but the pain was almost unbearable, and he couldn’t move his arm anymore; he was at the very edge of his physical limits…
Fuck.
Gasping, Nythian relaxed his arm, just as Tarak removed his claws from Nythian’s belly.
They both surrendered at exactly. The. Same. Time.
The two Kordolians rolled flat onto their backs, breathing heavily. As he lay in a pool of his own blood, Nythian closed his eyes and drowned in agony. The nanites returned to his body, once again seeking to become one with the whole.
For a while, they were both silent, then Tarak spoke.
“A draw,” he grunted. Impossibly, he sounded both pissed off and proud at the same time.
Pissed off for not defeating him, yet proud of his man for fighting so well.
“Was gonna happen sooner or later,” Nythian wheezed, and it took great effort to push the words out. “Y-you can’t keep on winning forever. Not the way you trained us. I’ll get you next time, bastard.”
His chest was on fire. The pain was both terrible and liberating. He felt better than he had in a long, long time.
You’re fucking nuts.
Imagine if Alexis could see him now. She was tough enough; she’d probably understand it somehow.
He began to laugh… well, it was more of a wheeze than a laugh, like the strangled mating cry of a fucking szkazajik beast. Once he started, he couldn’t stop, even though every little shake of his chest sent a fresh wave of pain through his body.
At least the violence was out of his system now.
His bloodlust might be temporarily sated, but his arousal was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the distinctive acrid smell of Kordolian blood as he imagined her scent.
How he longed to touch her, feel her, taste her.
“It won’t go away until you claim her,” Tarak said, his voice little more than a whisper. “This isn’t something we can control or reverse, not even with Zharek’s drugs. What is holding you back, Nythian?”
“Ah…” His bloodied fingers twitched as he imagined her silken brown skin beneath his fingertips, imagined the sinuous curves of her body pressing against him, her graceful hands stroking his skin, his cock…
His erection was coming back.
They’d fought naked as they usually did, because unlike humans, Kordolian males didn’t care much for modesty. But now Nythian drew on the last of his strength and brought back the lower half of his exo-armor, because, well… shit.
“You fear you might hurt her.”
“She was so unstable when she first got out of stasis,” he admitted. “What was I supposed to do? She’s still scared of Kordolians… some of them. I’m going to find out who did this to her. Then I’m going to tear their black fucking hearts out. Permission to do so, Sir?”
“Your plan sounds reasonable,” Tarak said mildly. “But first, you have other significant matters to deal with.”
“Yeah.” He turned his head and looked at Tarak. The General’s left eye was a gelatinous grey mess from where Nythian’s claw had stuck it. The grey mush slowly disappeared as white sclera and crimson iris knitted together.
Tarak regarded him with a patient stare. “Humans aren’t as fragile as you think. She will surprise you time and time again.”
“She already has,” he growled. “But I’m not gonna undo all this progress and scare her off because I can’t control my urges. You made me responsible for her training. I have a plan, and I’m sticking to it.”
“You, who has known only how to be brutal and ruthless.” The General chuckled. “Now you have this human who makes you react in ways you do not understand.”
Nythian narrowed his eyes. “And you just thought to put me in charge of her, huh?” He did not like to be dissected in this manner, not even by his own commander.
His brothers sometimes joked that he was the stubbornest of them all; the worst at taking orders.
“I only speak from experience, brother. Go to her, Nythian. I saw the way she looked at you. The situation now is very different from before.” Tarak’s tone became cryptic, and the suspicious feeling Nythian had been getting for some time grew.
“You gave me this assignment for a reason, didn’t you?”
“I make decisions based on necessity and probabilities.”
“You think I needed this?”
“You are displeased with the outcome?”
“Nah. I just never thought any kind of human would be a good fit for me.” But then there was Alexis, and she wasn’t afraid of him.
“Think of those who have gone before you. Kalan, Kail, Rykal, Torin, Enki, me. You think any of us ever believed we would find a suitable female?” Tarak slowly sat up, propping himself on his elbows. The skin on his back was torn to shreds, but the vicious cuts quickly disappeared as his nanites swarmed over them. “There is a chasm inside you. It exists in all of us. It’s up to you to decide how you want to fill it. There is more to this existence than being an instrument of violence, Nythian.”
“I know.” As always, the General had thought about these things long and hard even before Nythian realized what was at stake. They were free of the Empire now. There had to be more to this life than simply killing and enforcing Kordolian supremacy. “But from now on, this goes according to my rules. You and Abbey get yer blissfully mated noses out of my fucking business.” Once again, his speech lapsed into guttural street-Kordolian.
“Naturally,” Tarak rose to his feet, offering Nythian a hand.
Nythian took it and got up off the floor, grunting as his body protested. He ached all over, but it was a good kind of ache. In a short amount of time, he would be back to normal, although a bit leaner, considering the massive amount of damage he’d sustained. When the nanites ran out of their own energy, they would start to cannibalize his tissue.
Nothing a plasma-protein injection couldn’t fix.<
br />
“A draw,” Tarak repeated, clapping him on the shoulder, eliciting a fresh wave of agony. “You’ve improved.”
None of the First Division had ever beaten Tarak, and it was so very rare to fight the General to a draw.
“Next time, I’ll destroy you,” he growled, feeling unsatisfied. The only acceptable outcome was victory.
“Try it.” Tarak smiled, a cold, vicious expression that caused Nythian to bare his fangs.
And so the cycle continued, both Kordolian males driven by deep instincts they didn’t completely understand.
The need to dominate. To protect. To find a mate and claim her; mind, body, soul.
This was how it should be. They’d heard whispers of such bondings in the old legends and tales of the Aikun; in secret snatches of Kordolian lore that been stolen from them by the Empire, their history erased as mothers grew old and their daughters—those rarest of creatures—were stolen away by the cruel nobility.
Turned into cruel creatures themselves.
Where had it all gone so fucking wrong?
Didn’t matter. Nythian was here. He’d survived. He was no longer one of their fucking underlings.
He’d won.
And he was going to claim his mate.
SEVENTEEN
ALEXIS STOOD UNDER THE SHOWER, warm water soothing her aching muscles as it cascaded over her back. As impossible as it seemed, this Kordolian warship had facilities that were as good as—if not even better—than anything she’d experienced on Earth.
Luxury encased in light-sucking obsidian walls. Ha.
After she’d hung out with Abbey for a while, Enki had taken her to Zharek’s labs for another thorough check-up—at Nythian’s insistence, apparently. The medic had reassured her that every organ in her body was functioning as it should, that her test results were absolutely normal, that the damage in her brain had all but repaired itself, and she shouldn’t have any further memory lapses or bouts of confusion.
And she wasn’t going to die, even if Anuk’s consciousness untangled from hers.