Mylomon: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 3)

by Nancey Cummings

  “We are safe.”

  “Okay, let’s try again,” Daisy said. “I know this is the auxiliary morgue. Why are we here?”

  “You were in danger.”

  “I wasn’t in danger. I was trying to get to my post so I could do my job.”

  “The Suhlik breached the base.”

  “Which is why I need to be at my post in the emergency medical bay!” She threw her hands up in frustration.

  “The way was blocked. You could not arrive safely.”

  “So you stuffed me in here?”

  Another grunt. Fantastic.

  “Shouldn’t you be out there fighting, warrior?”

  “My duty is to protect you, female.”

  Daisy pushed herself off the floor, stumbling on the hem of the dress, and made her way to the door. Most rooms in the base locked down automatically when the alarms sounded. Civilians and staff had a few minutes to get to their assigned shelters or their stations. After ten minutes, the doors locked to contain civilians in the shelter until the threat passed. If someone remain in their quarters or other location, they were also locked down to prevent civilians wandering the corridors in the middle of a firefight. Only a few select areas of the base did not go into lockdown. The morgue might be one of them.

  Daisy placed her hand against the control panel. It remained unresponsive. She punched in a code. No joy. She slammed her hand against the control panel, then pounded on the door. Finally, she kicked it.

  “Female, cease or you will injure yourself.”

  She ignored him and spoke into her comm unit.

  “Please keep this channel free for emergency use. Try your request later.”

  “I am emergency personnel. A big purple—” Daisy bit her tongue. Her instinct was to say idiot but the big purple idiot in question was scary looking, so it was better not to antagonize. “I’m stuck in the aux morgue.”

  “Please keep this channel free for emergency use. Try your request later.”

  Well, that was garbage.

  She spun toward him. “Open it.”

  “No.”

  “Use your clearance and open the door.” A warrior could override the locks, as a safety precaution.

  “I only arrived this day and do not have a security clearance yet.”

  Fan-fucking-tastic. Why would he have a security clearance? “Come on. Use all that muscle and knock down the door, then.”

  “I will not.” He rose to his feet, his full height looming above her. Stars, he was big. Her head came to his mid-chest, right at his pecs. For a moment she wondered how hard those pecs would feel under her hands. Like stone. Everywhere. Most Mahdfel warriors were muscular and beefy. Perfect masculine specimens didn’t turn her head anymore but this male… He was different. Bigger, like they fed him steroids. Part of her wanted to take off that stiff, formal uniform and explore all those muscles. That same part wasn’t too upset about being stuck in a room with him. Alone. For who knows how long.

  She blinked, focusing on her frustration at the situation and not the frustration stirring between her thighs. “Then what’s the point of you!”

  He leaned down, top lip pulled back in a sneer. “That door is infused with nanocarbon. I cannot simple knock it down. Even if I could get past that barrier, the base is swarming with Suhlik. You have no armor. No weapon. They will eviscerate you.”

  Daisy refused to flinch at his words. She held his gaze. “I’d be careful. Emergency medical is not far.”

  “No.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Female, this discussion is over.”

  Daisy inspected the room, hands rubbing her bare arms. Intentionally kept cold, the space was not designed to accommodate a person sitting and hanging out, waiting for the all-clear. She opened the storage drawers along the wall. All empty. No cabinets. No cloth or blanket. Not even a chair, just a cold metal table in the center of the room.

  “You are cold,” the male said.

  “Yes. The temperature is kept low in here for… storage.”

  He shrugged off his jacket, revealing his bare chest, and handed it to her. She accepted it after a moment’s hesitation. She didn’t want any help from him but she didn’t want to freeze, either. The jacket was stiff and scratchy but also warm.

  He nodded with satisfaction.

  Daisy paced the length of the room. She should ask his name. That would be the polite thing to do. They could be in there for hours, maybe even a day. She couldn’t keep calling him “warrior”. But if she asked for his name, then he’d ask for hers and then what would she say? “Sorry, Charlie. That information is classified.”

  Actually, that might be really satisfying. Rude, yes, but satisfying.

  “You should rest, female,” he said.

  Daisy clenched her teeth, fighting back a scream. Female. Yes, all the alien males used that term but when he said it, the term made her blood pressure sky rocket.

  Actually, if he had a name he might stop calling her female.

  “That’s Nurse Vargas to you, bub.”

  “You should rest.”

  “On what, the cold floor? The cold metal table?” Not going to happen.

  “Your shoes are unstable and the way you walk indicates they pinch your toes.”

  “You are not criticizing my shoes right now, are you? Because I don’t know if I can stay polite but need I remind you that I’m only stuck in here because of you.” The shoes did hurt her feet but she refused to admit that to him.

  “I removed you from danger and protected you.”

  “You blocked me from doing my job!”

  He sat cross legged on the floor and patted his lap. “I will keep you warm, Nurse Vargas.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Then continue to pace and shiver. Let your pride impede your wellbeing.”

  Daisy narrowed her eyes at him. “This isn’t about my pride.”

  He patted his lap again.

  “Fine,” she said at length. “But no touching or coping a feel, got it? This is just about warmth.”

  He nodded. “As you say, female.”

  Mylomon

  His mate was displeased with him. They had only just met and already he had said and done the wrong thing.

  She was upset that he’d prevented her from going to her post, but the Suhlik surrounded them. He’d had no choice. If he’d stepped aside as she wished, she would have been injured or worse. And he would be alone again. Perhaps there was another match for him but most likely not. Nurse Vargas was a miracle, made just for him.

  No, he was right to do as he did. Better to have a mate angry and alive with him than pleased and deceased.

  When she acquiesced and agreed to sit in his lap, strictly for warmth, his heart seized with joy. If he could not please his mate with his actions, perhaps his physical presence would suffice. He kept his arms loose around her as she settled in. Her back was rigid, shoulders stiff. After a few minutes, she relaxed and pressed her back to his chest.

  He resisted the urge to lean down and sniff her hair, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo.

  “How long have we been in here?”

  “Several hours, female.”

  She made a disgruntled noise. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “Female?”

  “Yes. I have a name, you know.”

  It took all of his will to resist stroking her hair and pressing a kiss to her temple. He was not worthy to utter her name. He would not say it until she graced him with a smile.

  “Fine, be that way,” she said with a yawn. She pulled the jacket tighter around her.

  It might be some time.

  “You should sleep,” he said.

  “No chance, bub. I don’t trust you and I’m certainly not taking a nap in your lap.”

  He smirked at her rhyme. “You will remain unharmed.”

  “Wow, that doesn't sound menacing at all.”

  Mylomon frowned. His errors kept mounting. She found him threat
ening. Frightening. Perhaps it was best she did not learn his name. With the poor lighting, she would be unable to get a good look at him. By the time they were matched, her memories of this night would be fuzzy. His next attempt to win the affection of his mate would be successful.

  Yes, time is what he needed. Time to plan. Time to research her and learn her likes and dislikes. Time to prepare his stark quarters aboard the Judgment to better accommodate a soft Terran female.

  The light from her wrist comm unit illuminated her face. “Stupid data,” she muttered. “No network, no onboard memory. But why would I need memory on this thing when the network is always on?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I want to watch a movie or read a book or something but the network is in emergency mode. No streaming. No downloading from my library. This cheap government model doesn’t have onboard storage.” Another yawn.

  “You should sleep.”

  She twisted around to face him. “I told you, no. I don’t trust you or even know your name.”

  Intriguingly soft in the most appealing places, her ass had just the right amount of substance. He enjoyed the way it felt on his lap. An iron clad will kept his cock from standing at attention and announcing just how much he enjoyed her softness.

  He had nothing if not control. He could give her a name, to ease her worry at being trapped with a stranger. He could give her that peace of mind. Yes, he liked the notion.

  “Mylomon,” he said.

  She repeated his name, a smile pulling at the corner of her soft lips. Satisfied they had been properly introduced, she snuggled against his chest. “That wasn’t too hard, was it, Mylo?”

  He rumbled with pleasure.

  Chapter Four

  Daisy

  The all-clear on her comm unit beeped. Her eyes were extraordinarily heavy and her neck stiff. She wasn’t in her bed. A moment of fuzzy recollection and then she knew exactly where she spent the night: trapped in the auxiliary morgue with Mylomon.

  The warrior had insisted she sleep curled in his lap like he was a piece of furniture. For warmth, of course. No other reason. The night had been… oddly pleasant. He kept his hands to himself and despite being solid muscle, she fit comfortably against him.

  Incoming messages flooded her comm unit. The first dozen were security alerts, then her supervisor trying to locate her and then finally from Vox.

  Daisy jumped off the floor and out of Mylomon’s lap. “I have to get to the medical bay.” Her sister had been injured during the attack. Badly.

  The door opened automatically as Daisy approached it. She ran down the corridor and up the service stairwell. Scorch marks from laser rifles decorated the walls. She ignored the obvious signs of conflict in the dome as she raced toward medical. Meridan filled her thoughts. Vox kept the message brief. “Meridan hurt. Medical. Now.” He sent several other updates but Daisy was too concerned about getting to her sister’s side to stop and read them.

  Emergency medical hummed with activity, patching up plenty of soldiers and a few civilians. Daisy headed straight for the front desk. The woman behind the counter recognized Daisy and pointed down a corridor toward Critical Care.

  Her mind went blank. All Daisy heard was the thumping of her heart. She was eleven years old all over again, rushing to the medical tent in the refugee camp, searching for her mother and sister. Her father’s hand gripping hers tight enough to bruise. She was helpless then. There was little she could do now.

  Vox found her and pulled her into an embrace. Then he brought her into the room with the regeneration tanks. He sat her down in a chair in front of Meridan, who floated naked in a vat of green goo. Her dark hair fanned out like a mermaid. Eyes closed, unconscious, Meridan was oblivious to the tubes attached to every orifice and the vicious red marks where her flesh had been sliced open. Surgical glue and plastic lattice held her together.

  Daisy pressed the palm of her hand to the tank. “What happened?”

  “She was accosted by a Suhlik patrol.”

  “But why wasn’t she in the shelter?” Meridan should have been in a civilian shelter.

  “I do not know. She sent a distress signal that the Suhlik had breached the base.”

  Daisy nodded, absently. “They cornered me, too.”

  Vox placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you well?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He spun her to face him. “Are you well?”

  Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “No,” she said in a small voice. “Why is she in a regen tank? Who authorized it?”

  “I did.” Medic Kalen entered the room and inspected the tank’s readings.

  “That’s not cleared for human use,” Daisy said. She wiped away the moisture clinging to her lashes. She refused to be helpless now. Meridan needed her and she had exactly the right skills to help. She wasn’t that useless little girl caught in the invasion. Not anymore.

  “Her injuries were too extensive.” He rattled off an impossible list: punctured lung, fractured ribs, arms, multiple lacerations, and extreme blood loss. Even her kidneys were injured. “This is the best course of treatment.”

  Daisy took a closer look at the alien medic. His face was haggard and drawn, like he had run all night on nothing but adrenaline. “When did you rest?”

  “I can’t. Not yet.”

  Daisy took the tablet from him. “You have to rest. You won’t do Merri any good if you burn yourself out.”

  He nodded but his eyes did not leave Meridan’s floating figure in the tank. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

  He cared for Meridan. The realization surprised Daisy. Even though she’d set them up on a date for the ball—was it only last night? —she believed their mutual attraction was superficial. Meridan and Kalen had been flirting terribly for the last two weeks. The genuine concern, the deep despair at her injuries, told her that Meridan was more than a casual flirtation for the alien physician.

  “I’ll sit with her,” Daisy said. “She won’t be alone. You rest. Then we can trade places.”

  Daisy sat for several hours in an uncomfortable chair. Vox brought her a dry sandwich and a lukewarm coffee. He sat beside her, holding her hand. Eventually the shuttle bay called him away for his deployment. At some point Kalen returned, still tired but marginally less haggard. He spoke via the view screen to a Mahdfel male with one horn. His warlord, she supposed. She paid him no attention. The only thing that mattered was the information streaming to her tablet from the regen tank. All levels were within acceptable parameters. She refreshed. All levels continued to be within acceptable parameters.

  At some point a warrior arrived to escort her to the testing facility. It was her birthday, after all. Time to be matched.

  Daisy barely noticed the nurse drawing blood. She pressed her thumb to the tablet when prompted. She nodded as the nurse spoke but nothing got through the barrier of worry and dread filling her head.

  “Daisy? Did you hear me?”

  “What? Yes. No. I mean, can you repeat yourself.” She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to pay attention.

  “You have a match.”

  “No, you’re wrong. I never have a match.”

  “You do have a match,” the nurse repeated.

  How could that be? Merri was stuck in a tank that might or might not repair her. She couldn’t be matched and whisked away. “My sister needs me. I can’t leave.”

  “Well, good news there,” the nurse said, consulting her tablet. “Your match is actually on SCLB.”

  “Oh.” So her match had been here all along. Did she know him? Had they met? Smiled at each other in passing? Then the practical logistics of a match percolated in. “I have so many clothes to pack. Why did I buy so much useless stuff?”

  A dark figure entered the room. Daisy recognized the dark warrior. Mylomon. Shirtless. Of course. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. So many Mahdfel males preened about without their shirts on. Desensitized to all the man-flesh on display, something abou
t the way the light hit his sculpted pecs made her lick her lips. Exhaustion and attraction was a strange mix.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “You want your jacket back. Sorry, I got distracted.” She shrugged it off.

  “You may keep it, mate,” he said.

  No way.

  No freaking way.

  This guy? The guy that kept her from doing her job? That kept her from her sister’s side?

  “You do know each other. Fantastic,” the nurse said brightly. She held up the tablet for Daisy’s thumbprint. “Just indicate here and here. I know you know all the regulations. We’re all done. Congratulations.”

  Mylomon

  He needed to adjust his plan. Again. Rather than having a month or even a year to prepare, the time frame shifted forward. A lot forward. Unprepared and without notice, he had his mate.

  He now knew her full name: Daisy Vargas. He rolled her name around on his tongue, enjoying the shape of her name.

  She was unhappy to learn of their match. Perhaps he should have been bold last night and boasted of his achievements and his rank. He was second in command in his clan and answered only to the warlord. He had bested many enemies in battle.

  Perhaps. Mylomon rubbed absently at his chest. He did not believe that his mate was the type of female such deeds impressed. She worked alongside many valiant and decorated warriors. Rank and a few scars would not turn her head. And he wanted to impress her, prove himself a worthy mate.

  Prepared to recite his achievements and all that recommended him as a worthy, he strode into the testing facility.

  “Oh, no. Not going to happen,” she said, stopping his plan before it began.

  “Female, we are matched.”

  “But you? Seriously?”

  What was wrong with him? Doubt stabbed at him. He knew his appearance was not as pleasing to Terran females as other members of his clan. There was little he could do about that though.