by Alison Aimes
Valdus nostrils flared, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen.
“What’s going on?” As always, Ryker was ready to pounce on any obvious tension.
She ignored him, her gaze locked with her so-called partner. “I’ve almost given you what you need. You’re free from the tracker and soon your men will be as well.” She rolled her shoulders back. “I want my chance as well.”
He surged forward, looming over her. “You could die.”
Ryker and the others suddenly got very busy elsewhere.
She was thankful for the privacy, even if she suspected they could hear every word.
Gathering her thoughts, she stared up at him. “I could. That’s been a risk all along. One you were willing to take not too long ago.”
Pain flared in his gaze, but it was quickly gone, replaced by fury. “And now I’m not. I thought…I thought I could handle you taking that kind of risk, but I can’t.”
“It’s not up to you.”
“It damn well is.” He stalked past.
She hurried after him, seizing his arm.
He swiveled round so fast she almost slammed into him. “Is my touch really so awful that you’re willing to risk death?”
She drew up short. Shock slamming through her. “It’s not that at all. Being with you…” She lowered her voice, aware of the curious eyes fixed on them, “being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Your touch, what you’ve showed me…nothing compares,” her voice broke, “but that’s got nothing to do with this.”
His eyes locked with hers. “It could be. If you let it.”
She reared back, surprise morphing into anger. “What do you mean? You know how important this is. I have to try and get it out.”
“Why? You said yourself the serum for the nanotechnology was different than the tracker. Stronger. You saw what happened to me.” Hot accusing eyes bored into her. “You’re risking too much. Some things are not worth dying for.”
She jerked her arm from his hold. “And some things are.”
“If you’re dead, freedom won’t make a difference.”
She tipped her chin. “It’s a risk I have to take.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
“My mind has never been more lucid and, even if I wasn’t, it’s not your choice to make.” Anger ripped through her.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He’d puffed up above her. “I am still in charge.”
The sharp blade of betrayal cut deep. “Are you saying I’m still your captive? That I have no choice? That you’re reneging on our deal?”
Frustration etched itself in the tight lines at the corner of his mouth. “I won’t let you risk your life. I can’t.”
“Are you so sure it’s me and not the men and the mission you’re so worried about?” Anger opened the floodgates, bringing foolish insecurities to the fore. “Afraid I’ll die and you’ll lose your bait if everything goes to shit and you have to trade me after all?”
Fury flared in his gaze. “I’d never do that to you.”
“Really? Because it definitely doesn’t feel right now as if you have my best interests at heart.”
He jerked her close, his breath a caress across her cheek. “I’m thinking of us. Of living without you in this world.”
Her heart stuttered.
“Is the heat so bad if you have someone to share it with?” There was a vulnerability in his stare she hadn’t seen before. “Someone who would do anything to keep you from pain?”
His words tore at her soul, cut into her. Every single word true. He’d taken heat and made it into something beautiful between them.
But Hollisworth’s legacy was still inside her.
“Please,” she looked up at him, “it’s not that easy.” If she didn’t destroy the nanotechnology, her husband would still own a part of her. She’d still carry him inside.
Valdus’s jaw flexed, his gaze shifting away—but not before she caught the flash of hurt. Of disappointment.
Her wounds bled more.
Still, she forced the words out. “Command me not to do this and we’re done.” Her voice low and sharp with conviction. “I’ve had too many people tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Eyes narrowed. “This is about you and me. Don’t bring anyone else into it.”
“How can I not? He is here.” She pressed her palm against her womb. “Inside my blood. A taint, a shadow I can’t shake. Every time I go through the damn heat he wins.” She was desperate to explain, hating the growing distance in her lover’s gaze, the way he felt a million miles away though he was standing right next to her. “He steals a part of me. Makes me vulnerable.”
“You think it’s any different for me?” he growled. “It’s not the heat that makes you vulnerable. It’s the heart.” His fist slammed against his chest. “And it’s too late for me. I’m already at risk. Heat or not, you’re in my blood. A force I can’t resist. A compulsion I don’t want to shake.”
Her heart fluttered, her voice breaking.
She didn’t want to lose him. But she didn’t want to lose her chance to be the woman she wanted to be, either. “I…I can’t be someone’s captive yet again.”
“Even if you’re not the only one?”
Her chin snapped up.
He’d been waiting for her to look at him.
“I’m just as shackled,” he whispered, his lips a fraction from her skin, the look in his eyes…intent.
“I…I don’t understand.”
“You think you’re the only one caught like this? You think you’re the only one consumed with need?” His jaw was tight, his eyes shadowed, as he loomed over her. “I may not have a bind around my wrist or that heat technology in my blood, but it might as well be.” Leaning in, the ridge of his thick cock pressed into her belly. “I am responsible for my men. Good soldiers who deserve my sole attention, who deserve me doing whatever I can to get them out. Brothers who I’ve sworn to protect above all else—and yet here I am.” Hungry eyes dropped to her lips. “Worrying about whether I’ve hurt your feelings. Thinking of ways to make you happy.” He sucked down a slow breath, his voice dropping. “Craving you like you’re the last sliver of fresh air in this hellhole. Like you’re the warm ray of sunlight on my skin.”
The walls around her heart cracked, the dark pain within lighting at the beauty of his words. Not simply when the ferocity of lust and need was upon him, but under the harsh light of reason.
No one had ever spoken to her like that.
Poetry from a brutal, battle-tested warrior.
Like so much of Dragath25, beauty came when you least expected.
He’d shown her the stars and now this.
Fingers trembling, she reached for him. “Valdus…”
He stepped back. “If you take the risk and you die, we have nothing. Think about that before you decide. Think about whether what we have together is already winning.”
Her hand dropped to her side. The distance between them might as well have been a chasm. “I...” She swallowed hard. “I need some time.”
Disappointed eyes met hers. “That’s the one thing we don’t have.”
“Help! Help me!” The frantic words echoed down the corridor. From a familiar voice.
“Pratt?” She was scrambling forward in the next breath.
Only to be yanked back by a powerful hand.
“Careful.” Bright blue eyes scanned the room. Even now, his concern for her trumped all. “It could be a trap.”
She sucked down a breath, tried to reason past the desperation that exploded at the delay. “But what if it’s not?”
Scowl deepening, he drew his weapon and stepped in front. “Stay behind me and we’ll find out.”
37
“I can’t hold on much longer!” White-knuckled fingernails dug into the dirt at the edge of a crack in the ground.
His hand clamped to Ava, Valdus scanned the corridor one more time before signaling Darvish and Bain to haul
the man up. Gashes in the ground like the one Ava’s crewmate had fallen into were plentiful down here and easy to miss. Still, none of this felt right.
“Oh, Goddess. Thank you. Thank you.” Sobbing, the rescued man clung to Darvish’s thick arm as his body, and then his bare, cracked feet, dragged over the precipice.
But it was the sob behind him that cut straight to Valdus’s soul.
Ava’s soldier friend looked like hell. His uniform in tatters, it was easy to track the bruises atop bruises that purpled his skin. There were rope lines around his neck, thin cuts likely made from a pickax across his back, and he weighed at least half what he’d been in the transport hold. Saddest of all, his eyes were dull and lifeless.
Draeke had tortured the poor bastard.
And he had let it happen.
Still, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He’d choose Ava every time.
The question was would she choose him?
“What are you doing here, Pratt?” He forced all emotion from his tone.
The man looked up, sheer terror in his gaze. “Please don’t send me back. Please.” His gaze darted from one side to the other. “Please.”
“It’s okay, Pratt. No one is sending you back.” Tugging at his hold, Ava shifted so that she was more visible. “I know I don’t look like what you remember, but it’s me. Ava Davies. Your crewmate.” Lowering her voice, she dropped her gaze to where his hand remained wrapped around her wrist and whispered, “Valdus, let me go to him. He’s terrified.”
He held tight. Too much was still unknown.
“How did you get here?” he asked the man.
The poor bastard shook harder. “I…I escaped.” A swollen, blackened tongue flicked out to run across cracked lips. “It’s chaos out there, since the Councilman’s appearance. My mast—” he cut himself off. “Draeke was wounded. He…he barely lives and…the others are scrambling…trying to find,” his eyes flickered over his shoulder, “her.”
His low growl sent the man scuttling back, palms flinging upward as if expecting a blow.
“N-not me,” sputtered the man. “I only wanted to escape. So, when they sent more of the guards looking for her and left us alone, I…I ran.”
A plausible enough explanation.
And yet Valdus didn’t like it.
Because the soldier was a link to Ava’s old life and he was a jealous, possessive bastard? Or because something about the man just didn’t sit right?
Silence descended.
The force of Ava’s pain and disapproval raked like claws down his back.
“All clear, Valdus.” Griffin, still nursing his wound, emerged from behind a nearby rock. There was no one better at camouflage and tracking than him. “No one’s following as far as I can tell. He’s alone.”
Valdus released his grip.
Ava sailed forward, sliding onto her knees beside Pratt. “You’re safe now,” she repeated, her arm gently circling the man’s back to hold him upright. “It’s going to be alright.”
Bain and Darvish exchanged a glance.
Valdus kept his expression purposely blank. This was her crewmate, after all. Her link to her old identity. Loyalty was to be expected and admired.
So why the hell did he want to rip the poor bastard from her arms and send him sailing down the hole he’d just been pulled from?
Shoving down the thought, he strode forward until he was looming over the sobbing man. “Can you walk?”
Ava shot him an exasperated look. “He’s only just catching his breath.”
“Taking time we don’t have.” The leader in him told him to forgo the risk and send the man on his way. But the man in him wanted something else. After all he’d taken from Ava—after all he was asking her to give up—he wanted to give her back something she really wanted as well.
“He’ll be searched before he enters the hold.” His gaze found hers, wanting to be certain she understood. “He’ll also be guarded round the clock by one of the men until we can be sure he’s not a threat. Under no circumstances is he to handle a weapon.”
Her nod of agreement came fast. “Of course. Thank you.”
The lightening of some of the shadows in her gaze eased some of his discomfort, but not enough. Especially when the man clutched Ava’s hands as if he were never letting go as she helped him to his feet.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Her old crewmate sobbed all over again.
It was hard to believe he’d once been the soldier assigned to look out for her.
“Ryker, Darvish, give the man a steadying hand.” The guy looked like he was about to fall over—and that was the only reason he gave the command. Not because a certain woman was currently shouldering way too much of the man’s weight.
Ryker shot him a knowing look. He pretended not to notice.
“Let’s move out.” He signaled for the others to line up. “The others will be anxious to hear what happened with the tests.”
Ava hurried to his side, slipping her hand into his. “Thank you.”
His nod was quick, the storm of sensation in his chest hard to contain. “He could still be a problem. He’ll have to be watched at all times. I don’t want you near him without someone else around.”
“Got it.” Her agreement came quick, but he caught the way her chin tipped up, the flare of defiance.
He understood. She’d been Hollisworth’s captive. Then his. She’d only just begun to stretch her wings and experience what it was to make her own choices.
But he couldn’t allow that need to cloud his judgment when it came to what was best for her or his men.
He wanted to do what was right for all, but he wasn’t so sure anymore what that was. What was once so simple, black and white, was now clouded by feeling. Emotion. Selfish need. Longing. An impulse to protect that could cost him everything.
Hold too close and he’d lose her forever.
Let her risk herself and he might lose her to Dragath25 just like he’d lost so many good men.
It had been so easy before when he felt no pain, no pleasure. But now…now his mind was battered by a never-ending technicolor waterfall of wants and desires and selfish needs. He was no longer sure anymore what made sense.
The responsibility weighed heavily. Something more, too. Something that shamed him. He’d always done what was best for the team, always considered the good of the many, but now…now all he wanted was to wrap his female in his arms and breathe her in. His star. His universe. His air.
The impulse to protect her above all else was messing with his ability to be a good leader and make the hard choices.
He didn’t know how to do both. To be both.
He only hoped protecting the one wouldn’t endanger the others. Or destroy them all.
38
“I’ll be fine.”
Valdus’s frown didn’t lighten.
Ava shifted her weight, the echoes of their earlier raw words heavy in the air. “You’ve left Griffin, Bain, Darvish, and Barrett, as well as the rest of the team to guard me. We’ll be fine,” she urged. “It’s you I’m worried about. You should take more men.”
He tightened his harness strap, muscles bunching. “Ryker and I can move faster and more discreetly if it’s just the two of us. It will mean returning with the ore sooner.”
Which was definitely a good plan.
“I’ll start injecting the others.” She couldn’t quite look at him. Too much left unsaid. Too much she wasn’t sure how to answer. But she wasn’t about to hold the life of his teammates hostage over their disagreement.
She’d used the weakened version on Ryker and he’d done just fine. A moderate reaction, but nothing as extreme as Valdus’s. A substantial improvement. Especially since a quick test had indicated that the now eyebrowless Ryker was as immune to the droid’s self-destruction as his commander.
Since then, everyone clamored for their turn. Unfortunately, she had enough for most of the crew, but not all. Which was why Valdus and Ryker were hea
ded back to the sabanther caves.
“I should have most of them inoculated by the time you return.” Time was ticking down. Time for them. Time for her as well.
Is the heat so bad if you have someone to share it with? Someone who would do anything to keep you from pain?
“Thank you.” Valdus stepped directly into her line of vision, his solemn gaze finding hers. “You’ve definitely proven to be the key to saving us all.”
His words staunched a bit of the bleeding.
But not nearly enough.
It’s not the heat that makes you vulnerable. It’s the heart. And it’s too late for me. I’m already at risk. Heat or not, you’re in my blood. A force I can’t resist. A compulsion I don’t want to shake.
Her heart stuttered in her chest.
She was furious with him for asking her to make such a choice. Angrier at herself for hesitating to seize the goal that had been her compass, her reason for living, since Hollisworth put that thing inside her. She’d proven herself willing to die for Valdus and his men. How could she not do the same for herself? For the woman in her who’d been crying to be free for years?
And yet…Valdus’s declaration, his suggestion that he was as vulnerable as she to the pull between them fulfilled a craving she’d never even realized she’d had. Left her wavering.
I may not have the heat in my veins, but the drive to touch you, be with you, is raw and unbreakable and can’t be cured with some serum. I need you to live.
Before there’d been nothing left to lose, no reason not to risk all, but her ex-captor had shown her a future that could be full of beauty and stars. It wouldn’t be perfect or safe, but it would include someone willing to stand by her side and fight. Someone who saw the heat not as an obligation or a slavish destroyer of her will, but as simply one more tie between them, a single thread in a tapestry of need and vulnerability that was, without their even realizing it, coming to bind her to him heart and soul.
So why risk everything to destroy a speck of technology that was becoming less and less significant in her life?