by Celia Kyle
His mate needed him. Now.
He tightened his wings against his body, not allowing them to drag on the air while he ran. He raced down the corridor, cursing his position as Primary Warrior. Had he been any other male, he would have remained at Grace’s side, but the ship’s War Mistress Lana was newly bearing and required the War Master Taulan at her side. That left Kozav alone to manage the ship.
Kozav could not begrudge the male his happiness at impending fatherhood. He simply wished the War Mistress was with young at another time. Any other time than now.
Another shout and then a groan. Soon other warriors followed in his wake, prepared to fight for the female who yelled with pain and fear. More than one blade was unsheathed, but he kept his strapped to his back until he knew what he faced. His dragon’s fire stirred, blood heating with each pounding step.
He rounded the last turn to the passage that led to his rooms, and the sight that greeted him had him racing across the metal beneath his feet. He did not hesitate to leap at the male hovering over Grace. Kozav flew through the air, colliding with the warrior and wrapping his arms around the one who dared scare his female.
They tumbled away from his downed mate, rolling until Kozav landed in the dominant position; straddling the soon-to-be dead warrior. He allowed his nails to lengthen and sharpen with his dragon nature and wrapped one hand around the male’s throat. He pressed the nails of the other against the warrior’s face.
“Tell me why I should not kill you now.” He followed his demand with a hiss, the sound resonating through the air. The desire to gut the male rode him hard, the need to avenge his mate turned into a physical being that writhed within his chest.
This was not anger. It was rage.
His rage grew as the scent of Grace’s blood filled his nose. He hated that his body reacted with arousal, his need to be coated in her scent warring with the need to see to her health and comfort. For now, he would focus on the male.
“Tell.” Kozav pierced the warrior’s flesh and lowered his face. “Me.”
The male made the mistake of struggling, driving Kozav’s nails deeper, but his grasp held the younger male steady. Since his captive did not wish to speak, he would question his mate. He breathed deeply, attempting to calm himself, but all that accomplished was bringing him more of her scent. Sweet and metallic. Arousing and enraging at once.
“Grace?” He turned his head, but his attention remained in tune with his prey. “You are injured?” Kozav focused on one of the nearby males and his gaze collided with Detzan’s. The male’s blades were unsheathed, a white knuckled grip clutching the handles. “Contact medical and have Master Healer—”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled and remained on the ground, a small hand rubbing her head and brushing her long, dark hair from her eyes. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she rose from the ground and Kozav got his first look at his mate while she was conscious. He also got his first look at the new injuries on her body and where the blood emerged. Her feet were raw, staining the pale grating with droplets of red.
He had not thought to secure her footwear, and he accepted that as a failing on his part. Shame suffused him and he resolved to take better care of his female. Hadn’t he learned from past mistakes yet?
The male beneath him struggled and Kozav tightened his hold. “Tell me your name so I may tell your dam and sire of your death.”
He would kill this one. His mate was covered in scrapes and bruises, the coloring spreading with each second. Droplets of blood stained her xina and more found its way to her palms.
Grace sighed and leaned against the wall. She was injured and needed support, but no other Preor came forward to lend her assistance. Good. They could keep their lives. Males were not permitted to touch females that did not belong to them.
Kozav’s rage twined and burned its way through him, scorching him with its heat and intensity. He wished to destroy this male for touching Grace. Kill every male in the area for even looking at his mate. There were thirty and if he challenged two at a time, it would only take him—
“He can’t answer if you keep choking him,” Grace rasped the words and Kozav admitted he could not deny her truth.
He grunted and loosened his hold. Slightly.
The warrior gasped. “I didn’t—”
Kozav tightened his grip once more. “I will not listen to lies. Her blood is on your hands, your clothing. You touched a female that does not belong to you.”
“I’m my own person,” his mate grumbled and he decided they would address her beliefs later. She was wrong.
“You dared to touch—”
No one would dare interrupt a raging male, a Primary Warrior intent on death. Except Grace. “He just scared me, Primary Warrior.”
Kozav winced. He did not like hearing his title on her lips. He would always be Kozav to her. Always. “He—”
“I went looking for the command deck and he came around the corner and yelled at me.”
“Yelled at you.” His voice was soft, but he made sure all heard his banked anger.
“He yelled to get me to stop and then…” She wrinkled her nose and then winced. The fall had to have bruised her cheek. “It was a cultural misunderstanding?”
It was obvious she tried to placate him with untruths. The male would not have so much of her blood on him, on his clothing, if he’d been merely attempting to assist her. The red footprint near the male’s cock would not be there if this one had only frightened her.
He would tell Grace later never to lie to him.
Kozav grunted, keeping his attention on Grace. “You will explain—”
“Nope. You will explain why I’m here instead of on Earth.”
This was not a conversation he wished to have in the hallway when surrounded by his warriors. Technically, she had not agreed to leave with him. Technically, he had violated Preor laws by kidnapping a female. Technically, she was able to access that information via the Knowing and could bring charges against him.
Kozav was trained in battle, trained by the best Preors ever to live. He knew how to best advance from the dominant position. He also knew when it was best to retreat.
“Shaa kouva,” he murmured, mimicking the softness his sire had often used on his dam.
When Kozav had a dam. Before he’d killed her. Before he’d made the mistake that…
“Shaa…” Grace’s expressive eyes widened and she licked her lips. Surprise and wonder flashed across her features and he realized she had not known he was her mate. Did she even know she had a mate on the ship? Grace frowned in confusion and shook her head while she rubbed her brow. “The Knowing.”
She was aware of the Knowing, then. He jerked his head in a quick nod. “Yes.”
“I treated you… and the others.” Her eyes grew unfocused for a moment. “Then your healers showed up and then I woke up here.” She stared at him, her lips firmly pressed together. “But I have to get back.”
She would never leave him. Ever.
“No. I must punish this male for touching you and then we will talk.” Kozav refocused on the warrior who had yet to provide his name.
“Primary Warrior,” her low voice teased his heart, but his title on her lips had him snarling.
Nearly snarling. He would not act in such a way toward a gift from the skies.
It was tempting though.
“Kozav, Grace. You will call me Kozav or shaa kouvi. I am your mate.”
“Kozav,” she repeated his name and he pushed down the sadness that came at not hearing the endearment on her lips. It would come. Skies willing, it would come. “It was just a misunderstanding. I got frightened and fell. That’s it. He was helping me when you came around the corner.”
He stared at his mate, weighing her words for the truth. “It was not mere fear, shaa kouva.”
It was terror and his mate attempted to put the warrior on his knees with her unsuccessful kick.
Still she lied to him.
“I woke up alone on a
strange ship in different clothes.” She narrowed her eyes and for some reason he felt as if he should apologize for… something. “It might have been a little more than fear.” She gestured at the other warrior. “That doesn’t mean you should kill him. That’s just…” she shook her head. “Stupid.”
More than one pair of wings fluttered in surprise and anticipation. Kozav did not take insults lightly. Unless, it seemed, they came from his mate. “You wish to claim his life?”
“I don’t want him dead. I just want this done. I have to get back to the surface and—”
“No.” She would not leave him. “I will spare him, but you will not leave me. We are mates. The Knowing has—”
“I’m not denying the mate part of this,” she snapped at him, eyes ablaze with anger. More warriors ruffled their wings. Like gossiping females, all of them. “I’m simply telling you that I have to go to Earth and—”
“You do not deny we are mates?” He would not address her demand to leave.
Research indicated looks could not kill, but if they could, he would be dead at his mate’s expression.
“The Knowing stretches between us.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s there. I knew how to treat you all at East Fortuna and can now read Preor,” she waved at a nearby sign. “I can accept that it’s present and real. But that doesn’t mean I—”
“Good.” They at least would not have that argument. Though she still was attempting to leave much like Jarek joi Melissa’s mate did when the Knowing struck. Melissa had escaped the ship with a transport beacon from the Ujal Rhal.
Now Kozav was glad he had her stripped and changed. He was also glad he’d listened to the War Mistress and allowed the female to replace her clothing instead of doing it himself. He’d done further research once his mate was resting and learned females did not like being stripped without permission.
The crowd parted for a newcomer, the gathered warriors stepping aside for the ship’s Previous War Master and his mate. Kozav tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Esteemed Warrior Jarek.”
It was difficult to refrain from calling Jarek by the title War Master, but the male decided living quietly on Earth with his human mate was better than remaining on the ship. It was how Taulan became War Master and Kozav became the new Primary Warrior. Now Jarek merely visited occasionally, more often since Taulan’s mate was bearing.
“Are you listening to me?” Grace hobbled forward. He would have to find a keeper for his mate. If she was determined to move around even though she was injured…
“Of course, shaa kouva.” He was not, but would not tell her so.
“Kozav?” Jarek raised a single brow. It was a human expression many Preor seemed to be adopting.
“This male attacked Grace.”
Grace growled much like an annoyed Preor female. “He—”
“I do not understand why he still breathes.” Jarek’s confusion was evident.
“Grace does not wish him to die.” Which Kozav found disappointing.
Jarek grunted. “Females can be emotional.”
Melissa elbowed her mate.
Kozav wished Grace was not present to witness that behavior. He did not want his mate to think she could assault him as she pleased.
“Seriously?” Grace’s attention bounced between him and Jarek.
Kozav did not like that she stared at the other male, but he could not do anything about it while Grace’s attacker remained beneath him. He shifted his attention to the crowd and focused on Radoo, a maroon-winged male. “First Warrior, take this male to a holding cell.”
The first warrior bolted forward and took possession of the bleeding male, leading him down the hall.
Now he could deal with his mate.
“Shaa kouva.” He went to her and wrapped his arm around her waist to stabilize her. It was not the first time he’d touched her, but it was the first time she had been awake when he laid hands on her. She was curved and sweet, smelling of his rooms and the clothing he had brought for her from Preor. He had brought many things from Preor for her. “Shaa kouva, you agreed you are my mate.”
“Yes, but that’s not the issue here. I need—”
“And you agreed you experience the Knowing.”
“Shaa kouvi.” Her words were like experiencing clearest of skies. “Yes, but—”
“Truly?” Jarek spoke over Grace and Kozav would talk to the male about interrupting her. “Blessings of the skies, Kozav. Introduce us to your mate.”
Kozav tipped his head in agreement. “I must first ask you to bear witness.” He kept his eyes locked on Grace’s. “By Earth treaty, I lay claim to Grace Hall as Kouva to Kozav sen Aghin, now Kozav joi Grace, Primary Warrior to the Preor Third Fleet.”
7
Grace sucked in a quick breath, shock and fear slicing through her with his claiming. Conceptually, she knew they were mates. She felt it when he drew near and it touched her soul when he laid hands on her. Plus, the Knowing wouldn’t have manifested if she hadn’t met a Preor.
But her mother… Her mother was sick with no cure on Earth.
Were the Preors advanced enough to care for her mom? To end her constant pain? God, Grace hoped so.
“You don’t understand. I have to go back to Earth. There’s someone who needs me.”
“I need you.”
He didn’t know her. He couldn’t need her. He didn’t depend on her for his well-being. The only thing she could do was prevent his suffering. “I get it, the Knowing sickness.”
Kozav growled. “It is more than—”
Grace didn’t want to listen to false promises of “it is more” and pushed on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Well, you didn’t give birth to me, so you don’t count.” She glared at him. “My mother needs constant care. I don’t know what time it is, but her caregiver leaves at five on Fridays—”
“It is seven in your Earth time.”
Relief surged through her. Two hours? She found that hard to believe, but it did relieve some of her worry. “Two hours isn’t so—”
“Saturday.”
Grace’s gut clenched, heart skipping a beat with that new information. A new rush of determination pushed away any pain that still lingered and she straightened her spine. “I have to go back. Now.”
And she damned well wouldn’t take “no” as an answer. Not when it came to family.
“Grace—”
In some ways, she was a pushover, but in many others—when it counted—she wouldn’t back down. Alien or not, wings or not, swords or not, she was getting back to Earth. She glared at him, their eyes meeting, and kept her voice soft but still harder than steel. “You are going to return me to Earth. Now. You are going to take me to my home. Now. My mother is very, very ill and I can’t afford full-time nursing. That means she depends on me to take care of her at night. So, you either take me back or I’ll tear this ship apart looking for a pod myself.”
Of course, all her strength and demands were undermined by her swaying from side to side. Weakness wouldn’t get her to her mom. Only strength would force him to listen, to see Grace and accept that nothing would stand between her and the blue and green planet. His hand tightened on her waist and she leaned away, trying to show she didn’t need him.
In truth, she didn’t need anyone. She did just fine on her own before the Knowing and Kozav and the Preor ship.
“Shaa kouva,” he chided as if she were a child and a surge of strength filled her veins.
“No.” She stepped away, thankful her knees didn’t fold beneath her. “No.” He attempted to grab her again, but it wasn’t happening. Not until he listened. Not until he heard her, really heard her. “Kozav, my mother has Pol Mutation.”
He frowned. “I am not familiar with this illness.”
“You don’t have to be familiar with it. You just have to take me back.”
“You will explain,” he snapped at her and Grace just all around snapped.
“You want me to explain.” Fury had her snarling
while pure frustration and rage fueled her tirade. “It’s a pollution mutation in her DNA. She grew up when the sea was sludge, before the Ujal came and cleaned up the planet. Her town was covered in soot and grime, the ocean was practically dry land and food was scarce. Now, ask me if the men in charge put a stop to it. Did they do anything to prevent it from getting worse? No,” she spat, tirade in full swing. “No, they just kept running their power plants and living in their ivory towers and…”
Grace swallowed hard, eyes burning when she thought about what the world was like when her mom was growing up. It’d gotten better after Grace was born, when she was still a toddler, but the damage had been done to her mom. Kozav once again tried to pull her into his arms and she eased away. The rustle of wings reminded her that they weren’t alone, but she didn’t care. She should be embarrassed about having a shouting match in front of everyone, but nothing mattered more than her mother. “And she survived. Barely. When the Ujal came, they cleansed everything, put safeguards into place, and now control what we do to the planet. But they couldn’t fix what’d been done to the people. Especially since the government won’t even acknowledge there’s a problem. There’s no treatment. There’s no known cure.”
“That does not tell me about her illness.”
No, no it didn’t. She could pretty it up and couch it in softer terms, but she was just… done. Tired and stressed and every other emotion in the world. She’d experienced them all since she’d opened her eyes. “It means the pollution mutated her genetic code. That evolution stepped in and tried to make it impossible for the population to grow because there was no way the world could support so many. It means that when she decided to seek medical intervention to have me, it nearly killed her. It’s still trying to kill her and no one on Earth acknowledges the problem. I work two jobs to support us, to provide her with the best care I can. I work until I’m asleep on my feet and have blisters covering my toes.” Burning anger had her stomping toward him, scraped feet be damned. “And if you don’t let me go to her, if she dies because you’re trying to assert your dominance or any other Preor-alien bullshit,” his face darkened, but she wasn’t done yet, “I will never forgive you.”