by Alison Aimes
Swallowing hard, he turned and stalked out of the room.
Silence engulfed the room.
Barrett looked devastated.
Her own heart stalled. Sympathy for both men winding through her. Barrett’s desire to seize back some control, to reclaim the warrior part of him that had been overcome by the sickness, resonated with her. But she understood Darvish’s side, too. He didn’t want to lose the man he loved.
But none of that really mattered in the end. Because Darvish was right. Barrett was too weak and too unstable to be their control. They needed someone more reliable.
“It should be me,” she reiterated. “I’ve done the work. I know what to expect.” She watched Valdus’s gaze darken, but she stood her ground. This was different than with Darvish and Barrett. This wasn’t about love. It was about control, a man who shouldered too much responsibility, and a woman who refused to be silenced again. “It should be me.”
“The decision has already been made.” Her ex-captor’s voice held no anger. Only firm resolve. “It will be me.”
32
Valdus let the roar of objections wash over him. It didn’t matter what was said. He would be the first to try out Ava’s vaccine.
“No,” her continued protest hit square in the gut. She had no idea how close to crossing the line he was, his control at the edge.
Barrett, too, rushed to object. “Sir, I ask you to reconsider.”
He grabbed for his patience. Forced himself to take deep breaths. To remember it was the leader who needed to be front and center now. Not the man who wanted to roar at his friend for being so willing to embrace death after all they’d done to keep him from it. Or the caveman who wanted to grab his stubborn, brave female and take her away from this once and for all.
“I appreciate your offers, but it’s not happening.” His voice was surprisingly steady.
Barrett’s eyes flashed hot. “Darvish—”
“This isn’t about Darvish.” Though he understood the red-haired man’s side better than he would have liked. “This is about what’s right for the team and you’re not a good candidate. What works for you may not work for those who are healthier. Vice versa, what harms you might have no impact on someone who’s immune system is less compromised.” He watched the young man’s lips go flat and tight with each strike of the truth. “Your courage is much appreciated, soldier.” He softened his voice. “It’s just not your time yet to take one for the team.”
The man’s resigned nod tore at something inside Valdus, but he forced himself to stay the course. Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind.
“This is my vaccine.” Ava didn’t wait long. “I should be the one to try it out.”
Another wave of fury. He fought it. Along with the words he knew would only widen the gap between them.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her ferocity. This vaccine was hers. Born of her pain and her struggle and her refusal to be cowed. Hollisworth had taken every bit of control from her. Finding the vaccine and destroying the nanotechnology inside her was her way of fighting back. Of wrenching back control of her life.
And he was standing in the way.
“You’re not the ideal candidate, either,” he told her before she could start arguing further, “your body weight and muscle mass is too different from the rest of the crew. Plus, there are…mitigating circumstances,” he knew she wouldn’t want him mentioning the heat technology in front of the others, “that might complicate your reaction and, again, make it impossible for us to tell if what works on you will work on the others.”
Her eyes flashed with fury—and suspicion.
Heat prickled across his neck. He didn’t blame her. His explanation was solid, but his motivation murky. The needs of the leader blending with the impulses of the man until he wasn’t sure where one left off and the other began.
“Valdus—”
He cut her off. “It will be me.” His gaze moved from her simmering one to rest on each of his men. He wanted to forestall further discussion.
“Sir,” Barrett’s voice was tentative, “are you sure—”
“Decisions been made,” bellowed Ryker. “This is not a democracy, gentlemen.”
Valdus gave his second a grateful chin nod. The man might be an asshole most of the time, but he got it.
Who lived. Who died. Who sacrificed for whom. That was his burden and his responsibility to bear as Commander. He didn’t pretend there were easy answers or that he always got them all right, but he knew without a doubt this was the only way he could live with himself and keep his men protected, shouldering the burden and living with the consequences.
“Call me when Bain’s done and the vaccine is ready.” Though he fought it, his gaze drifted to Ava once more, the flare of betrayal in her stare cutting deep. But he’d had to play the bad guy many times before with his men and survived. “I’ll be ready.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned away.
“Well?”
Ava jumped, the metal rod almost slipping from her grasp. “Well, what?” Her voice was too sharp, betraying the tumult inside.
“Well, why aren’t you hauling ass to the other side of the cave?” asked Ryker
As if she’d fall for that. “This needs to be stirred continuously. There’s no room for failure.”
“That’s enough to keep you away?” He grabbed the rod, his massive paws dwarfing hers, and started stirring with her. “Doesn’t seem too difficult.”
“Neither is a little kindness, but you fail at that continuously.”
A bark of laughter from the few gathered around the ore.
“Clever,” agreed Ryker, but his expression remained somber. “It’s a hellish job being both leader and an ordinary man.” His voice was deceptively casual, his whole focus seemingly on the ore. “One of the loneliest places to be in the world. Unless you find someone strong enough to handle the burden with you.” He switched to the other hand. “After that stunt you pulled with Hollisworth and then the sabanthers, I thought maybe I’d gotten it wrong before. That you were strong enough to be worthy of a guy like Valdus. Guess I was wrong.”
Spine snapping straight, she snarled. “You are not wrong.”
She was strong enough to handle Valdus. His burdens and his fears.
Ryker’s hand closed over her. “If this vaccine fails, these might be the last moments you have with him.”
Her heart stuttered.
“Take it from me,” he continued, “ending things in anger with words unsaid will haunt you forever.”
Pity twisted through her. She thought of the woman who’d loved Ryker long ago.
“Don’t.” As if he read her thoughts, his expression hardened. “I’m an asshole. Always have been. Don’t make me into anything more.”
“I hear that loud and clear.” But inside she wondered. And thought more about his advice.
She had enough regret to last a lifetime. Enough words she’d kept bottled inside.
Lifting her hands from the rod, she shot Ryker a narrowed glare. “Stir just like I was doing. No faster or slower. Don’t mess this up.”
His eyeroll was her only answer.
She took a breath. “You really are a world class asshole, but there’s no one I’d want more to be Valdus’s second.”
His eyebrows crept to his hairline. He opened his mouth. No words came out.
It was nice to finally have the last word.
Especially since the conversation that was coming might not be so easy.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched toward Valdus.
33
Valdus loomed with his back to her, one hand pressed to the wall, head down, shoulders hunched, each astonishing muscle on display. A still, silent statue of carved, honed raw power and gleaming skin.
The urge to trace every fascinating hollow with her tongue hit hard, but she stifled it.
“Valdus…” Her hand lingered just above his wide shoulder, her heart beating fast, her palms tingling with the ach
e to touch.
She felt exposed. Vulnerable.
But Ryker was right, her rotations of cowering were done—and there were words that needed to be said.
Her ex-captor swiveled round, catching her wrist before she’d even registered his movement, his grip gentle but firm. “You’ve been a lab rat one too many times before.”
Her stomach flipped. “Yes, but—
He pressed her palm to his face as if he could imprint her touch into his skin, his gaze willing her to understand. “I’ve spent my life leading. Taking risks. Doing what others couldn’t.” He swallowed hard. “I hate that Hollisworth stole your control, I hate that I did, too.” He shook his head. “And I know…” His voice had dropped to an agonized rumble, “there are some burdens of yours I can’t take. Some pains I can’t share. But I’d take them all if I could. And I damn well won’t shirk from shouldering the ones I can.”
Her heart turned over.
I love him.
Somehow, against her best judgment, her stupid heart had fallen over the edge into the abyss of love. Deeper, darker, more treacherous than any Dragath crevice.
And she couldn’t regret it for an instant.
“I know I didn’t ask before, only took,” he continued, “so I’m asking now. Let me be the first to give it a try?”
The heart he’d already stolen fell deeper into his keeping. “I…I could never say no to that. But…” Old fears battered at her. “But what if I’m wrong? What if it isn’t just pain, but death?” Her breath hitched. “There are always bumps along the way and there’s a chance the serum won’t just destroy the tracker, but the body.” Her hand cupped his jaw. “I couldn’t bear it if I ended up killing you.”
“And you think I could if you were the one who died?”
“Your men need you.”
“They need you, too. If this time fails, you’ll need to try again. And again. Until you get it right.”
“But what if I can’t?”
“You can. You will.” He seized her hand. “I have absolute faith in you.”
She could only stare as his mouth moved closer, pressing a kiss to one corner of her mouth, then the other, indifferent to the stares of others across the room, his strength and unwavering conviction bleeding into her with every breath. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can do this. I know it.”
Her heart cracked wide. “You do?”
“I know you’ll do the best job you can, take all the precautions you can, and give us the best chance of making this work. I’m not a man who gives up control easily, but I’d rather put myself in your hands than anyone else’s.”
Valdus’s touch had always made her fly. Now, she soared on his words alone, climbing higher and higher with every heartbeat.
He truly believed in her. Saw her as a scientist capable of getting the job done. Her? A creature who’d once been reduced to nothing more than the value of her face and what lay between her legs. Who’d been twisted into a twisted man’s fuck toy and robbed of her will. But no more.
She’d thought his reluctance to having her administer the first test came from doubt, but it was the opposite. He trusted her enough to put the fate of his men in her hands.
She might be buried under tons of dirt and rock but she’d never felt so light. So strong. So unburdened.
“I…I can’t tell you what your words mean to me.”
He hauled her close. “My men can survive without me. I can’t survive without you.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “This starts and ends with me.”
She sank back on her heels. I can’t survive without you. It was an astounding statement. As close to a declaration of love as she’d ever heard. Because survival to a man like the Commander was everything.
“My sires died in a dust storm when I was a child.” His voice was low and gravely and though she wasn’t certain why he’d brought up this particular topic, she soaked up every word, hungry to learn everything she could about him. “I barely remember them beyond a faint smell, a mix of oil and despair. I’m told my dad worked in the water plant before it dried up. I don’t know for sure. I was raised in the crowded orphan barracks and then conscripted into the Council military as soon as I turned twelve. I lived and worked and ate and trained in the soldier barracks with these men. I grew up with them. Earned the right to lead them. It was a good life, but a hard life and I…I never learned how to love right.”
She recoiled, his words leaving an unexpected sting on the inside of her chest. “That’s not true. You love each of those men.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. You would die for them. Sacrifice for them. Care for them. What’s more, you trust them to have your back, just as you have theirs. You take them as they are—the good, the bad, and the broken. That’s loyalty and tenderness and that’s love.”
“Maybe.” He swallowed hard. “But all I know is how to hold on tight. How to protect. It’s…it’s all I know.”
Now she was sure she understood—and tenderness flooded through her along with sorrow. It wasn’t wrong to be so fierce and so protective, but for a woman trying to find her wings, it could be a problem.
A problem he understood, but didn’t know how to change. Wasn’t sure he could change.
“So, what do you say?” His voice was low, his gaze locked on her, wariness clear in his gaze. “Can you accept my offer?”
Could she?
“This time, yes.” She moved closer. “Because I understand why you feel it has to be you the first time.” She took a breath. “Can you understand, too, that it can’t always be you who takes the risk?” It would be her soon enough when it came to test out her own serum. She only hoped he was readier by then.
Because she might love him, but she wouldn’t truly be able to give him her heart until she was free of Hollisworth’s legacy forever.
As if he knew her thoughts, a flash of shadows dimmed his gaze, but he nodded. “I understand.”
“Good.” Her fingers curled around his neck as she rose onto her tiptoes. “This starts and ends with us—and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side.”
With a groan, he pounced, his mouth claiming hers while his hands dragged her close.
She met his tongue with her own. He tasted of stars and choices. Of hope and faith. All here in the underbelly of Dragath25.
For the first time in a long while, she thought she might just get everything she’d ever wanted, after all.
34
“How does it feel?” Ryker’s hot breath wafted across Valdus’s ear.
He jerked his head to the side. “Like you should back up a few hundred steps and stop staring at me like I’m going to explode next time you blink.” He let his gaze scan the room. “That goes for all of you.”
It suddenly got very busy in quarters with everyone jumping to do some sort of task.
Privacy was shit down here under any circumstances, but it had never bothered him before. Now, all he wanted was a little discretion and some real time alone with his female. But that wouldn’t fly right now.
He forced his breath to stay slow and steady.
“Your heartbeat just jumped a notch.” Two delicate fingers pressed harder into the vein in his neck, monitoring his vital signs as best she could. It had been approximately ten heartbeats since she’d plunged Bain’s crude injector into the biggest vein in his arm. Now, it was a waiting game. “You feeling anything troubling?”
“Nope.” He wanted to rub away the worried crease between her eyes, but he knew she wouldn’t welcome it. She was in scientist mode now. And she was nervous.
He understood. What they were attempting was a risk. But everything down here was, including his growing connection to her.
“Valdus?” Doubt clouded her gaze. “Your skin is redder than it was a moment ago. You sure you’re not feeling anything?”
“There’s a bit more heat,” he admitted, rubbing at his shoulder, the site where he suspected
the tracker was, “but it’s nothing painful.”
Her fingers pressed a little harder into his neck. “The heat is a known side effect. As long as it doesn’t get too hot, we should be fine.” She shot him a shaky smile.
He covered her hand with his. “We’ll be fine.”
A nod. A slow swallow. Her tongue darting out to wet dry lips. The weight of numerous pairs of eyes darting glances their way while pretending not to.
Hell, he far preferred battle. Swinging at something. This sitting around, doing nothing, while he waited to see if he lived or died was not his style. He hated the helplessness. The lack of control. The erasure of his role in shaping his own destiny.
It made him understand all over again why Ava wanted the heat technology out of her.
Didn’t mean, though, that he liked the risk she was willing to take any more than before.
Hypocrite? Definitely. But it was beyond his ability to accept the woman he loved joining the list of those he’d lost to Dragath25.
But there would come a time when he might have to do just that—if he let her test out her serum on herself.
A flash of blinding pain ripped through him. He stifled a groan and forced his body to breathe through it.
“What? What’s wrong?” Her fingers dug into his skin. “Your skin is hotter. Your pulse accelerating. Are you okay?”
Another surge of sight-stealing agony. As if his veins were filled not with blood, but vicious burning fire.
“Oh, Gods. Valdus?” Beautiful green eyes stared into his, her worried, fast breaths caressing his cheek as she leaned in close. “Can you hear me?”
He wanted to tell her not to worry. That this was how it had to go down. That the risk was worth it. That he was more pleased than ever that it was him they’d experimented on. But he couldn’t open his mouth to speak.
He was burning up from the inside out. His vision blurring as the crackle of fire roared through his ears.
“Bring me water!” Her panicked shout sounded far off. “As much as you’ve got.”