by Carly Fall
But what he got was much, much better.
“I love you, too, Rayner.” She bent her head down and met his lips. A groan escape his throat as he tasted the salt from her tears, and his SR44 tendencies to mate came front and center. There wasn't any reason to hold them back now. He knew he was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be.
But she was crying, asshole. For all that resided in Heaven and Hell, get a leash on your dog.
But that was like trying to herd cats.
Fuck.
“I know why you won't make love to me,” she said, pulling away from his lips. “Abby explained that you would lose your SR44 form. I get that it's important to you, Rayner. We can't go by the silly legend and take the chance that it will stay with you."
He nodded. “Although English is my second language, I think the proper tense is wouldn't. I wouldn't make love to you.”
Her eyebrows took marching orders and headed for her hairline. “What exactly does that mean?”
He brushed his thumb against her cheek, letting it fall to the cascading waves of her hair, over her shoulder, and then take a slight detour for the protruding nipple in her t-shirt. “Faith, if you'll let me, I promise that I will love you until the end of my existence. My SR44 form...as far as it goes, whatever happens, that's the way the dice fall. Maybe the legend is true, maybe it isn’t. The most important thing is you. Me. Us. I promise that I'll—”
Her mouth cut off the rest of his sentence. He allowed his body to engage in the full roar of an SR44 male being with his mate.
Epilogue
Five Months Later
Rayner chased his prey through the nighttime forest, the full moon illuminating his path, heading toward the lake. He watched as Faith looked over her shoulder, the long, red braid down her back whipping around as she did so.
He heard her laughter, which was a song from the heavens.
They were having fun.
Okay, that may be a misstatement on his part. Fun didn't describe their day. This moment was fun, but the rest of the day had sucked.
Five days ago, they’d begun to pack up the rest of Anna and Chevey's things, and they had finished today. Rayner had rented a small cabin about ten miles away from Faith's parents’ house. It was a cute little log cabin with a nice deck off the back that faced the forest. He wasn't comfortable with Faith anywhere near her parents’ place, but he brought two of his best friends, Smith and Wesson, and kept them strapped to his chest while they dealt with Anna and Chevey's belongings.
Before coming to the cabin, Rayner and Faith had talked at length on what to do with all of Chevey and Anna's belongings. Faith had decided that she wanted to donate everything, including the house, to the tribe.
Months before their arrival, Rayner had made sure the house payments were kept current, and he also hired a cleaning crew to go in and get rid of the floorboards stained with blood, repaint any walls, and get rid of any rugs that showed any signs of violence.
He and Faith had quietly packed up Faith's parents’ clothes and belongings, Faith choosing to keep a few trinkets and pictures.
He sped up a little, gaining ground. He thought if she could quit laughing, she would definitely be able to run faster.
The August heat that overwhelmed those in the Phoenix Valley wasn't present in the mountains. It was still somewhat warm at night, but it damn well beat the ninety-plus degrees and humidity of the heavy Monsoon in Phoenix.
Despite that, he had sweat rolling down his back, and that wasn't the only way he was hot.
When Faith burst through the clearing that led to the lake about a quarter of a mile from the cabin they were renting, he was on her heels. Within a few steps, he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground.
He heard her giggle uncontrollably as she half-heartedly tried to get away. He didn't let her. She finally gave up and let her body go limp against his.
“Come here, love,” he whispered in her ear, turning her around so they were face to face.
She smiled up at him, and he felt every part of him turn to a big, mushy pile of stuff she could mold into her own liking. Everything except his cock. Yeah, that thing didn't know the meaning of mushy since meeting Faith.
Things had been tough for the past months. They had dealt with the burial of her parents a week after they had been killed. While Hudson and Cohen had hunted the Colonist, they had also gotten in touch with a Shaman who still practiced on the reservation from her parents’ tribe. A little over a week after her parents’ deaths, Rayner had driven Faith up to the burial service on the reservation at their burial plot. All of the Warriors and Abby had also had come up for the ceremony.
He looked at the shining moon, took off his backpack and opened it. He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he pulled out a blanket, a bottle of tequila, and some cheese and crackers.
She laughed, a true laugh that he knew came straight from her soul. Once everything was in place, she went to the blanket and sat down. He joined her. The moon was high, illuminating everything from the tops of the trees, to the blackness of the lake, to Faith’s smiling face. She turned to him and grinned. They talked quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night while they ate and drank. Two shots later, he found himself under her, and so happy to be there.
He slowly pulled the t-shirt over her head and threw it to the side, and then he undid her braid, watching the flames of her hair cascade over her shoulders.
One of many things he liked about Faith was that she always met him stroke for stroke, touch for touch. For her, it always had to be equal. She unzipped his sweatshirt, revealing the fact that he hadn't bothered with a t-shirt. At that point, he felt something just shy of brilliant foregoing that step. There was nothing better as far as he was concerned than being skin-to-skin with Faith.
Losing her parents had been hard on her, but she seemed to be getting back to her old self these past couple of weeks. He knew he owed a lot of that to Abby.
Her and Abby had become fast friends, and Abby was making progress on teaching Faith how to play pool. Faith added a light to the dynamic in the silo. She loved to laugh, and did so often.
Rayner was also certain that Abby was thrilled to have a female in the midst of all the overbearing males who had grown to love both her and Faith. All would lay down their lives for Abby and Faith, and SR44 males tended to be a little overprotective of those they cared about.
Okay, they were pretty much unbearable. But they meant well.
Coming back to the present, he flicked the clasp of her bra and slowly ran his hands on either side of her spine, then around to her ribcage. The moon sat right behind her head, giving her wild hair a halo effect, which made her seem ethereal. But she sort of was ethereal, right? She was special, just as he had known from the second he had laid eyes on her. Together, they would create a miracle.
She arched up, giving him a full view of her breasts. She knew he loved them—hell, he told her so every day. He cupped them in his hands, running his thumbs over the pink tips. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.
He brought his lips to her right nipple and swirled his tongue around the tight tip. Then he did the left. Sweet Jesus, he loved her breasts.
He pulled her on top of him, then rolled over her and had her jeans off in seconds. He got rid of his own clothes in record time, hating the fact that he had to bother with the inconvenience at all. Maybe he and Faith should just move up to the cabin and run around naked all the time.
Something to consider.
He gently laid himself down on top of her, the tip of his erection feeling her hot, wet center. He slid his hips forward and fully entered her, sending a shudder down his spine and making Faith inhale sharply, and then let out a sigh of contentment.
As he moved within her, his eyes never left hers. Her face was bathed in the red light of his eyes. She pulled his head down to kiss him deeply.
He felt her slick sheath getting tighter around him, and he knew her orgasm was clo
se. He brought his hips back and slid into her again. Her small hands were grabbing onto his biceps as if she were holding on for dear life.
He loved to watch her orgasm, absolutely loved it. So he flipped on his back taking Faith with him. She sat on him, her hands planted on his chest, her breasts swaying as she rocked on him. He held onto her hips, her eyes never leaving his.
Her whole body began to tremor, her fingers curled into his skin, the short nails leaving tiny scratches that he would wear as a badge of honor and love. Rayner's erection was being squeezed and milked by a soft, velvet fist. Faith cried out as his own orgasm bowed his hips off the blanket, sending him as deep as possible into Faith. He was used to ignoring his SR44 form that shimmered just above his skin, but never left, as he made love to Faith. She collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, her cheek lying on his chest looking as though she rested in a red fog.
The legend had held true to its words. He hadn’t lost his SR44 form. He was still a man of twenty-five or thirty, and Faith said she felt great, but they weren’t sure if she was aging or not. They were just going to keep an eye on her and wait until the Earth needed their son.
He wrapped his big arms around her body and held her close. A few minutes passed and she met his eyes.
“I want to go for a swim,” she said quietly. He was down with that. It sounded great. She turned and took one of his nipple rings in her mouth, slightly tugging on it, sending shock waves throughout his body. Damn, she cranked him up. And he was so, so glad he had kept the rings.
Maybe it was time to do a little multitasking. He sat up and Faith put her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He was grateful for the power in his body and easily stood up with her, never breaking the special connection their bodies shared.
“What are you doing?” she said while laughing.
“Multitasking. Making you happy,” he said with a smile. He would walk to the end of the earth over cut glass if it would make Faith happy.
The cool water felt good on his hot skin. He kissed Faith deeply as he began to move inside her again.
An hour later they swam, splashed, and chased each other in the water. Rayner watched as Faith dove into the dark depths in an effort to escape him. He was right on her tail, his legs kicking hard to catch up to her.
A moment later he caught her and held her close. He had found his faith, both figuratively and literally. His faith in love, his life, and the exciting future that lay ahead for both of them.
Chapter 1 - REBORN - Book 3 of the Six Saviors
Chapter 1
So this was what it felt like to die.
Hudson had planned his death to be fast and painless. A simple shot to the head by his own hand, an escape from his inner demon that relentlessly clawed at and twisted his very soul resulting in excruciating turmoil and pain. He didn’t know if he would feel the initial penetration from the bullet, but he figured after it did a blender on his brain, it would be a moot point.
However, sometimes even the best-laid plans turn to shit, like what was happening now. No, instead of dying the quick, painless death he had imagined here in this lovely hotel room, he was tied to a chair in nothing but a pair of boxers, his blood slowly draining from him by the cuts of his attacker’s knife.
He silently swore as he felt another slash across his chest.
Over the course of the past few hours, his attacker had already sliced up most of the heavily muscled plains of his six-foot-five, two hundred-and-sixty-eight-pound frame.
That last cut hurt like a bitch on steroids.
He had heard that people often saw their lives flash before their eyes when they were dying. Different snapshots of loved ones, places, and special occasions that made up the mosaic of a person’s existence. Oh, and look there...he was getting his own private viewing of his own.
Could this day get any better?
The first picture that flashed in Hudson’s mind was of the high golden buildings that made up the cities of his home planet, SR44. He loved the way the light from the twilight sun reflected off them, while the colored forms of the inhabitants of SR44 also mirrored off the buildings, casting the whole city in a rainbow of color. His mother and father stepped into his line of sight as clear as if they were directly in front of him, the makeup of his mother’s body swirling in a very pale, yellow smoke, while his father’s SR44 form consisted of a rustic red color.
“The road to happiness is peace in your soul,” his mother used to say.
“What did you just say?” his attacker asked.
Great. Now Hudson was talking to himself as well as seeing things.
Fabulous.
Hudson’s mother reached out to him. “Moha,” he heard himself say.
“Your mommy can’t help you now, asshole.”
The vision dissipated, and a new one took its place. His younger brother. His form had been a dark brown. Hudson had given him the English equivalent of the nickname of Stretch, because the guy was taller than Hudson. Toward the end of his life, Stretch was also a consummate liar, always stretching the truth, so the nickname fit like a glove. Hudson hadn’t seen Stretch in over five hundred years after that fateful night in the forest.
Hudson’s uncle had become a Forest Dweller on SR44, or one who preferred the life of living off the land instead of in the cities. Hudson’s father had taken the family to visit when Hudson was the equivalent of a fifteen-year-old boy in Earth years, Stretch twelve. Someone always had to be on guard because the little dinosaur-like creatures that lived in the forest often attacked the Forest Dwellers, inhaling their smoky forms. That night, Hudson’s brother and cousin had been standing guard. Hudson remembered the first shattering scream of his cousin being killed. Hudson’s father had told him to run, and he had. When he returned to the camp later, no one was around. No one from his family had survived the attack—his father, mother, nor his brother. There simply wasn’t any trace of them around.
He had returned to his small home in the city, angry and confused, not knowing where to go, what to do, how he would survive.
The guilt he felt for running and not staying with his family ate at him. Humans called it Survivor’s Guilt, and he carried it around like a boulder on his shoulders. He became angry at his world, at the incredible unfairness of it all, and turned to crime to survive and to work out his anger. He took from others. He fought to earn the coupons, or the equivalent of Earth’s money, needed to keep his family’s apartment. He often lay awake at night waiting for his family to come through the door and claim that they had played a joke on him.
That joke never came.
His mother, father, and brother were gone for good.
Not that he missed his brother much. If the accident had happened a few years earlier, then he would be able to say that he missed Stretch. But in the year prior to the accident, Stretch had changed. Looking back, Hudson believed there was something fundamentally wrong with his brother. He began leaning toward cruelty, often finding ways to torture Hudson without leaving any spaces in his smoky form to indicate he had done so. There was a time or two when Hudson had found a SR44 animal around their abode that had been killed. He could never prove it, but he believed his brother had been responsible.
So yeah, he didn’t miss the guy, but he did miss the idea of a brother, or his brother before he had turned into something dark.
One night, two years after his family’s death, Hudson had been caught fighting and was hauled to the Sub-Court to be charged for his crime. When he met the Peacekeeper, the male had recognized something beneath the anger in Hudson. The Peacekeeper had enrolled him into the SR44 military, where Hudson thrived on the structure. He quickly made his way up the ranks to the Battle Squad of SR44, the equivalent of the human special forces in the military.
“Tell me the code to get into that missile silo or I will slowly gut you. Sternum to your dick.”
Hudson looked up at his attacker. The guy was one of twelve Colonists, one of the baddest of the b
ad who had escaped from the Colonists’ banishment on SR44’s moon called The Colony. He had come down to Earth, taken on a human form, and proceeded to do a lot of killing. Hudson was one of the Warriors who were sent to clean up the living garbage that had been unleashed on Earth. But it was taking much longer than anyone had expected. Like two hundred and eleven years longer. Considering the lifespan of an SR44 male ranged about two-thousand years, give or take a century, there was still plenty of time for Hudson to fulfill his mission of killing Colonists—if he had wanted to. He figured he was about eleven hundred-to-twelve hundred years old, but looked like a male of about thirty.
The Colonist appeared so normal. A typical suburban guy who kept his grass mowed and his bushes trimmed, maybe an accountant, or someone in middle management. His face was terribly unremarkable, as was the dark hair that was cut close to his skull. He was average height and weight. Being so unremarkable was the way he moved through his life killing at will. He was someone that no one would notice, and if they did, they wouldn’t remember him.
The Colonist’s white button-down shirt was now stained with drops of blood. Hudson’s blood. He smiled at that. At least Hudson had ruined the guy’s shirt.
This normal-looking psychopath wanted the code to get into the missile silo just outside of Phoenix where Hudson and his fellow Warriors lived. The Colonist would never, ever get that code from Hudson. He might be ready to meet the great beyond, but he sure as hell wasn’t sending any of his fellow Warriors—or their mates—anywhere near there, which was exactly what would happen if this asshole got in there.
Hudson looked around the room. It was a nice place he’d chosen to die. He had checked into the hotel yesterday and was getting ready to kill himself when this asshole showed up. A dark, brown comforter and stark-white silk sheets covered the bed, and a piece of fine chocolate sat on the nightstand with a note of goodnight wishes and sweet dreams. The black leather couch to the left of the bed faced a sixty-four-inch plasma TV.