by Vi Voxley
Deliya supposed that when you were a walking mountain of fur, claws and fangs like swords, you didn’t need to advertise your might. Even the Brions, who never retreated from the enemy, had mostly stopped to stare. The chieftain stood, having crawled forward at last from one of the chasms, although for the life of her Deliya couldn’t see how it’d even fit there without falling in, and how he’d managed to hide there while the Brions were literally walking over him.
The thought she might have unknowingly walked over a beast like that knotted in the bottom of her stomach. Brions liked to see death coming, not have it sprung forward from under their feet, not even seeing it properly before all was over.
Most of the champions were dead, lying at the feet of her fellow officers. The rest gathered around the chieftain, having fallen silent. Deliya didn’t speak a word of the Antanaris’ language, but she supposed if she was driven into a corner, she might have acted the same way: gathered her warriors around her and made a glorious last stand. For all the disgust she felt for the Antanaris and the gruesome culture of their champions, she respected them for that.
As one, she and Darien walked forward. So did the rest of the officers. It wasn’t the Brion way for warriors to aid each other in battle, as they saw an insult in that they couldn’t handle an opponent on their own. A warrior’s death was a natural thing, and it was their fate to one day die in battle. There was no honor in having that glory taken from them.
With the chieftain, that didn’t apply. No single warrior could take it down.
Behind them, the Brion battle chain drew tighter again, their warriors starting to pick off the less important fighters and slowly aiming for the remaining champions. Deliya and Darien exchanged a look. It was up to them to get the chieftain. It was all they had come to this icy field for.
All the blades were already red with blood. The chieftain bent its huge head calmly, watching them approach. It almost looked peaceful, standing there, waiting for them to come to it. Deliya knew it fooled none of them. The chieftain was the worst of the Antanaris. It had no match, which meant it had no equal. It did as he wanted. Their sources said that if it didn’t feel like hunting, it’d pick a member of his own species to be its food. She didn’t know what repulsed her more – the horrible command, or the fact that the Antanaris obeyed it.
The chieftain waited until almost the last moment, the tips of their spears so close they’d already drawn them back to strike, before jumping.
For a creature that big, it shouldn’t have been able to move that fast. In all her many battles, Deliya didn’t remember suddenly yelping as she did when the chieftain broke two spears in its hands like they were toys. The next moment, it was on top of the two unlucky warriors now left unarmed.
All valor squares flared to life, a painful, horrified, raging glow emanating from them. The blood of their fallen brothers trickled from the chieftain’s fangs. A thought crossed Deliya’s mind that it was no shame to die at the hands of the Antanari’s mightiest champion, but she didn’t want to end up between its teeth.
“Its legs,” Darien said from beside her, while the chieftain stood silent again, in all likelihood looking for its next victims.
The thought sent a shiver like she’d never known before down her spine. She nodded. It was important to render the chieftain unable to move. Only then could they hope to pin him down, and even then it was better not to move too close.
Death or life, she thought as they edged closer. It was the Brion way.
The chieftain saw them coming and turned to them with terrible calm. Deliya forced her hands not to shake, although the insane, cold, merciless eyes did what all of Antaris hadn’t been able to and froze the blood in her veins. She knew they gave away their intent with their eyes flickering between the chieftain’s legs and his face, looking for signs of when it might strike. It didn’t seem bothered, which was all the more terrifying.
Luckily for them, others had picked up on their intention too. With courage Deliya had to admire, the warriors behind it jumped closer to cut at its back, making it round on them so fast she nearly missed her window of opportunity. Ignoring the screams, she rushed forward and stabbed her spear into the chieftain’s leg with all the might she could muster. Beside her, Darien did the same. They’d been aiming at the same leg, which was probably for the best, because it hardly seemed to hurt. A backhand blow sent them both flying, and the chieftain gave its first, thunderous roar. It turned to see who had hurt it, and its eyes found Deliya.
Minutes ago, when she’d thought the champion was going to kill her, Deliya had been almost fine with dying. It would have been an honest death, a good one. At that moment, seeing the deranged look in the chieftain’s eyes, she nearly screamed. The beast took one long limping step towards her, and she knew that this time she was dead and Darien too and they’d never get to be warm together.
Her eyes didn’t leave the chieftain once, which was why seeing him lit up much more clearly all of a sudden was so painful.
The Triumphant was the most feared vessel to travel the galaxy, and that was mostly due to the fact that as feared as its name was, it still came second to the name of its commander.
Diego Grothan almost flew over her, landing between his warriors and the chieftain. He was shining so brightly as to illuminate both himself and the huge beast so clearly as if it was midday. He didn’t stumble nor slip on the ice. In his hand was a spear taller than he, its blade running red.
He stood before the chieftain, who looked stunned to have another mirror its stance and its calm, all well within its reach. Deliya thought if that had ever happened to the chieftain, and whether this was how warriors who were too proud died.
The commander waited, his spear loosely held in his arm, seemingly relaxed. Deliya knew better than that, but it was still baffling how someone might drop their guard before the Antanari monster. She hadn’t let the horrendous creature out of her sight once and she’d been on the edge ever since first setting her eyes on it.
After moments on stunned silence, the commander finally moved, but only to shake his spear clean of blood. He aimed it very precisely, spraying the red right before the chieftain’s feet, one of which was still pierced by two spears. Deliya doubted seeing the blood of its fallen companions held any significant emotional value to the chieftain, but it was still a very clear challenge, and that meant much more. It roared. Every living Antanari backed away, some straight into Brion spears, but Diego Grothan didn’t move, didn’t even tense up.
The only way to know he was even now paying attention was the fact his valor squares were still brightly lit, although not pulsating. He was simply completely focused on the chieftain.
The beast sprung forward. Even with the spears through its legs, it moved incredibly fast. In a heartbeat, the commander was two steps away from where the chieftain aimed to punch him dead. Deliya saw the surprise – for the second time – in the cold black eyes. Perhaps at last, even a hint of fear. Then it went mad.
When it dashed out, it no longer stopped. Blow after blow landed on snow and rocks and ice, crushing everything it touched. It was pulverizing everything it saw and yet it failed to land a blow on the commander who was never where the punch landed. She could hear the beast’s breathing grow ragged and desperate. It realized it was working for nothing while its opponent didn’t even break a sweat. The smart thing to do would have been to stop, but it could no longer do that. Nearly all of its companions were dead, the last ones picked off by the outer circle. So it went for the one thing it’d seen to have gotten the commander to react.
It turned and bounced straight for Deliya.
In the midst of watching the commander elude the chieftain’s attacks so brilliantly, Deliya had completely forgotten that she, in fact, was also close enough to be in the fight. She’d managed to forget she was physically present. Training kicked in, she was on her feet and ready to jump away in seconds, but that wouldn’t have been enough.
It turned out the ch
ieftain was right, but the commander had already considered the possibility as always. As soon as he saw the chieftain going for his warriors, he moved. Going for Deliya left the chieftain’s back exposed. For the second time that day, she saw a spear protruding from an Antanari’s chest. This time, she couldn’t tell who was more surprised, she or the chieftain.
She’d thought before that no man could throw a spear through the Antanari’s thick skin. That did not turn out to be true. Like the champion, the chieftain slumped, the spear neatly piercing his heart. Behind it, Diego Grothan approached with a calm totally unfitting the fact he’d just killed their most dangerous enemy and taken a huge step towards claiming Antaris.
The only thing he seemed intent on was retrieving his spear, which demanded strength even from him. Eventually, he had to place both feet on the fallen beast’s back and pull with all his might. The gathered warriors said nothing, watching the battle end.
Deliya and Darien stepped up to gather their own spears as well. By luck, they hadn’t broken under the creature’s huge mass. They yanked the spears out, exchanging a look again, not knowing if they should say something to the commander before he walked away.
All the reports had said the chieftain was heartless, but it still caught Deliya off guard when one of its huge hands pulled her against the ground and the sword-like teeth opened to take a bite of her. Three blades flashed in the blinking, angry lights: Deliya’s and Darien’s burrowed unhelpfully into its hand while the commander’s stabbed straight through the chieftain’s throat.
Darien freed her from the death grip as the commander pulled his spear free once more.
“It seems he really didn’t want to die,” the commander said.
Then he looked around, taking a deep breath.
“Retrieve him. Return to the Triumphant.”
As Deliya made her way back to the waiting transport ships, her heart kept beating as if she were still in the heart of the battle. She’d realized she really didn’t want to die either. She saw Darien watching her out of the corner of her eye in the same way he’d watched her all day – strong and sure by her side, never abandoning her.
No, she didn’t want to die at all. She wanted to be warm.
CHAPTER FIVE
Darien
If Darien had thought Deliya might have found it funny, he’d have said the Antanari chieftain was the greatest cock-blocker in his life. But he didn’t, so he remained quiet, simply watching her as the shuttle took them back to the battle ship.
Before, when he’d kissed her on the field, he’d been absolutely certain she would warm up to him enough to take the edge off the battle together. He’d felt like the stage was set and the lust in Deliya’s eyes way too clear to be confused for anything else. It was a good battle, worthy enemies, her blood was clearly up. And then the chieftain happened.
In battle, there were two very different kinds of emotional high. The first was the good one. Fighting an opponent worth fighting, testing your own strength against them, reveling on the edge of your own mortality. That was the Brion way. That was what the battle had been until the chieftain – there had been many opportunities for them both to die, but they were good and did not.
The second was, well, the bad one. In that case, the emotional high came from truly coming face to face with something so terrible it rattled your entire being. Darien couldn’t deny the chieftain had been something like that. He hadn’t been able to think of a way to kill it before the commander arrived. He’d been prepared to die, of course, but that wasn’t the same as actually seeing a way out of a battle.
Not just for himself but for everyone. If the chieftain had had the sense to climb out of its hiding sooner, if it had calculated to break the Brion line where it was weakest, no one could have stood in his way. They would have had to follow it, and that would have cost them a great many lives.
He knew Deliya understood all that as well. Her eyes spoke volumes to him. It wasn’t fear, it was a bump, a nudge to the Brion collective ego, perfectly necessary in all truth. It was good to be reminded sometimes there were others in the galaxy who could match their might. This day, they’d won. Or rather, the commander had won. They were still the Brions, still the strongest. But it had been close.
He wasn’t sure that was the kind of restless edge he could help her with.
Darien resisted the urge to grit his teeth. All Brion warriors craved battle, it was in their nature to thrive on absolutes. And battle lust gave way to real lust so easily. It wasn’t simply that Deliya was beautiful – though no one could deny that, his body certainly wasn’t even trying, and he had no strength left to try and stop it. His erection, so hard it hurt, was already demanding all of his attention.
No, he’d really looked forward to seeing what she was really like once she dropped her guard. On Antaris, it was clear she didn’t consider him repulsive – far from it, really. Darien knew her body at least wanted to yield to him. Why her will was resisting, he couldn’t guess. He didn’t remember having done anything wrong, but then again, he’d been told he didn’t always think before speaking, so he may have done something after all.
What bothered him the most wasn’t the lust, the desire he felt so vividly as to make his head hurt. That he could handle. If Deliya didn’t want his company, he would think of her in private, although he couldn’t even find words express how poor of a replacement that would have been. His own hand instead of her warmth, softness, her wet inviting pussy…
His sigh must have been audible, because Deliya looked up at him. He answered with a smirk, just to see her adorable frown again. Gods, to have that fire burn for him in bed.
The disappointment of having to settle for a lousy pretense in favor of something he’d dreamt about for months now would be a secondary concern. His true distress came from the fact Darien was pretty sure there had been a chance and he’d missed it somehow. Or, the chieftain had made him miss it. Deliya might not let him close again, or she’d simply always remember Antaris when around him. He slammed his fist against the shuttle wall in frustration.
“That can’t possibly help,” Deliya said.
He chuckled. “It’s surprisingly helpful, actually.”
“I would think that after the tumbles you took today you’d have your fill of pain.”
“You almost sound like you worry,” he said, grinning.
There was something like an answering smile on her lips too. He’d seen her smile often, but never at him. He’d be damned if he didn’t get that at some point. Bloody chieftain.
“Look sharp,” she said then, nodding to the other end of the shuttle. “Commander.”
Diego Grothan looked as calm as he had when facing the beast many times his size. He waited until they saluted him, fist over heart and nodded.
“You both did well today,” he said seriously.
Even that simple praise made them both beam. The commander wasn’t in the habit of pointing out a warrior’s performance in battle unless they did something exceptional. Darien supposed that wounding the chieftain had been enough to warrant that. Looking at his commander, he couldn’t help but think of the comparison that had occurred to him when he’d watched him fight. There was something eerily similar in him to the chieftain, some sort of impenetrable confidence, only his ruthlessness never turned to his own people. All Brions were one.
“I trust Darien was of help to you, Deliya,” the commander said then, making it a question rather than a statement.
He fully expected Deliya to say she didn’t want to be saddled with him in the future but found her nodding.
“He did his share,” she said.
The commander’s lips curled into the slightest of smiles. Darien had no doubts he’d read everything he could from their postures and looks or whatever else a man like Diego Grothan could deduce from his warriors.
“Very well,” he said. “Then I might pair you with him in the future as well.”
With that, he walked away, leaving Darien
feeling like a child caught in some trouble, although he knew he’d done nothing wrong.
The shuttle docked in one of the Triumphant’s hangars, their perpetual home. All warriors thought of their ships as home instead of some place on Briolina where they technically lived. Darien walked out of the shuttle with Deliya who had remained silent after the commander left.
Seeing her, the flow of her long hair and the curves of her ass and tits the armor couldn’t hide, made walking almost unbearable, but outwardly he tried not to let it show. No doubt if anyone watched closely enough, they might see how he was limping, but he hoped to gods no one was that curious right after the battle they’d had.
Around them, news of other campaigns were coming in. It seemed they’d all been successful, with the biggest and strongest chieftain now transported to the Triumphant to be made into a trophy for the commander. Antaris was beaten.
He wondered if there was anything he could say to make Deliya feel better and change her mind. She still seemed so distraught to him, it almost pained him more than his desire. It really irked him he could not offer her the companionship warriors often sought after battle. Even then, Darien could see pairs of warriors leaving to one or the other’s room. Jealousy wasn’t a proper emotion for a Brion warrior, but he couldn’t help it.
“Are you hurt?” he asked instead. “Should you see Urenya?”
“No, I’m fine,” Deliya said. “A few bruises soon, but nothing internal. You?”
“Considering what we were up against, surprisingly still in one piece.”
There, the half-smile again. It was infuriating to be so close and so far at the same time. They left the hangar behind, walking to the common areas where their rooms were located. He was so caught up in thinking of the best way to solve his ache that Deliya had to grab his arm to stop him from walking away towards his room.
Her hand shook, just a bit. For a moment, he thought it was fear, until he stopped and truly looked at her.