Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  “I will hunt more for you tonight,” he growled in amusement. “You do not need to lick your fingers raw.”

  “R’har,” she said around a mouthful of repari and pointing at her plate, “this stuff is like the best maple-bacon-baby-back-rib yum ever. Seriously, you could put a steakhouse out of business with it.”

  “I am very glad this animal is plentiful on Yir lands.” He gave a huffing chuckle as he packed up around her. “Or I would be forced to encroach on another enclosure’s land to hunt it for you.”

  Hope ducked her head over her breakfast. It was crazy to think that she trusted so completely someone who wasn’t even human, that she could open herself up to an alien she hadn’t even known for an entire week. That she could know herself safe when her own kind had lied to her, deceived her, used her. But with every passing hour the idea—once so absolutely absurd—of giving up returning to Earth to live on an alien world instead, even actually having a half-alien baby seemed, well . . .

  Not absurd at all.

  And R’har would make a great dad, not like hers had been at all—

  “We are but a day’s walk at most from the relay.” His words drew her out of the daydream of a little one with R’har’s luminescent green eyes. “We will almost certainly reach it by late tomorrow afternoon. There will be a real bed for you within its walls.”

  “I don’t mind.” She grinned. “I’m kinda liking roughing it.”

  “The sun will be high before we leave if we linger any longer,” he reminded. “If we delay we will not likely reach the relay by tomorrow at all.”

  She sought to draw him down beside her on the pallet and while he kissed her with equal heat, he gave a low groan of protest and caught her hand when she stroked his shaft, already at full stand, through his clothes.

  His molten green gaze was conflicted, his cock rock hard against her hand. One more light stroke would have him throwing his good intentions of getting to the relay tomorrow away.

  He was inexperienced enough that he probably didn’t even know if it was okay to ask her to wait but he also took his role as her protector very seriously.

  She just wasn’t playing fair here.

  “All right.” She let him go but she gave a smirk. “You’re off the hook. For now.”

  His glance went to her breasts and she saw him swallow.

  “I guess you should go break camp while I get dressed,” she said with a shrug.

  “Yes, the camp . . .” he mumbled and Hope, never the beauty or the heartbreaker, allowed herself a grin as R’har, flushed and utterly distracted, pushed his way out of the shelter.

  They made camp just at the edge of the forest late that afternoon. There was a stream nearby and R’har, smiling, took her hand and led her there.

  She watched from the shore as he waded in.

  “You just want me here so you can show off, don’t you?” she called, smiling.

  Over his shoulder he threw her a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “Yes. Now you must be quiet or you will scare off our supper, little one.”

  “Oh, right, sorry,” she said in a stage whisper.

  He threw her a last lighthearted look then turned his attention to the water.

  In the fading light of day his big body went very still, the stream moving around his legs. The trees rustled above but R’har didn’t even twitch a muscle as time went on.

  Hope didn’t have half his patience and she was about to call out again, suggest that since it was getting dark they just make do with what they had back at the camp, when his hand shot downward into the water like a striking cobra.

  Even partly expecting it, Hope gasped at his speed; he straightened and tossed the fish onto the bank at her feet.

  With a yelp Hope scrambled back from the writhing thing.

  R’har laughed and joined her on the bank. He bent to scoop up the fish by the tail and held it high for her approval.

  “Very—” she said, holding her hands in front of her as the fish made one last squirm and flung droplets of stream water at her. “Nice. I mean, really, wow. I’ve never seen anyone fish like that.”

  He dropped a kiss to her mouth and took her hand with his free one. “How do humans fish?”

  “Well, I’ve been fishing exactly never but usually humans tie a hook to a string then put something the fish will be interested in eating on the hook. When the fish bites it the hook catches in its mouth and you pull the fish out.”

  He gave a dismissive snorf. “It does not sound very challenging.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure I’m making it sound a hell of a lot easier than it is,” she allowed. “And I’m not exactly a fish fan.”

  “You will like this fish very much.” He gave her a confident look. “Once I have prepared it for you. It is the one that tastes most like game.”

  The sun had set now but there was no chance he would get them lost. The forest was bright with moonlight and even if it hadn’t been R’har’s night vision was tons better than any human’s.

  “This really is a beautiful place,” Hope said as they walked hand in hand, tiny, harmless phosphorescent bugs flittering among the branches above. “The forests, the rivers. And all these moons—it’s just amazing!”

  “Hir has only three moons, but the environment on this part of the planet is not so different from the Atarra valley, where the Yir lands are located.”

  “Yeah, but here it’s just you and me. I’m kinda liking having this whole world as a playground just for us.”

  “I too.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But I promise there will be much time for play when you are safely on Hir. The winter gathering is coming. There is so much to see in the cities, our museums have much to offer an artist to enjoy.”

  “It sounds amazing,” she murmured. “Makes me not want to go home.”

  R’har stopped short, his wide glowing gaze searching her face. “Hope?”

  “I mean it,” she said thickly. “I mean it, R’har. I’ve thought about it. I can’t stop thinking about it and I-I want to stay with you. On Hir.”

  He closed his eyes for an instant, his expression almost pained.

  Hope shifted her weight, made uneasy by his odd reaction and by his silence when he looked at her again. “I thought you would be happy that I want to stay with you.”

  “I cannot express the joy I feel,” he growled roughly. “My heart overflows with it.”

  “Oh,” she said, her brow furrowed. “So, then what was that a second ago? With you shutting your eyes like that?”

  “I thanked the All Mother,” he rumbled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I lift my heart in thanks to the Goddess for the gift of you, my Hope.”

  He bent down and lightly brushed her nose with his, the gentlest of g’hir kisses, then covered her mouth with his own in a human kiss.

  Hope smiled up at him as he drew away. “Well, it’s settled then. Though I wouldn’t mind a few more days here.” With this much moonlight the mountain with the relay was visible, though she couldn’t see the station itself but they would be there tomorrow. “Once we send the message, how long before a ship arrives to take us to Hir?”

  “I do not know,” he admitted. “Our ships patrol the borders regularly but a warship’s arrival will depend on its proximity to Olari, but it will not be long. Though the ship may have to complete its patrol before it can carry us to Hir.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m nervous about going, you know. I mean, there’s no one back home who’ll really miss me. Some people might wonder where I’ve gone off to but they certainly won’t tear up the countryside looking. It’s just . . . you’re the only g’hir I’ve ever met. And what you told me about the Purists—”

  “The great majority of my people are eager for the arrival of human women,” he reminded. “Little one, you are a treasure to our enclosure. They will welcome you as their clansister with great joy.”

  “Still . . .” The campsite was just ahead and it was growing a little chilly. Truth to tel
l she was looking forward to ducking into the warm shelter. “I’ve got so much to learn about your people.”

  “I will teach you,” he promised. “It will be my joy to teach you. To show you all that my world has to offer.”

  “You’re going to teach me to read Hironian, right?” she asked dryly. “’Cause not being able to read your language is really annoying.”

  “I do not understand why your chip is not allowing visual translation as well.” He looked troubled now. “I can read English. This has not been an issue with other races.”

  “Guess humans are special,” she said with a laugh, already around the shelter, her hand reaching for the flap to enter. “But you probably already—”

  Hope broke off, her breath rushing out of her lungs as two beings emerged from the tree line. Physically they were humanoid, nearly as tall as R’har but bulkier, clumsier and hairless, their small-eyed faces vicious even in the twilight. They wore no clothes—she couldn’t honestly guess if they were male or female—but straps around their bodies held both equipment and weapons in addition to the blasters in their meaty grips.

  Those black eyes fixed on her and as one their mouths opened. Her eyes widened as their jaws fell to an unbelievable width, wide as snakes consuming prey, their teeth as long and thick as a man’s thumb, their tongues long and pointed. Hope made a choking sound of horror as secondary mouths on their bare chests also opened, revealing equally sharp teeth.

  These creatures were nightmares, the very image of demons.

  R’har’s growl rose to a hate-filled snarl and Hope knew those things were Zerar.

  Twenty

  With unholy shrieks the Zerar raised their weapons and, roaring, R’har threw himself at them. The blue light of weapons’ fire blinded her and Hope’s hands instinctively came up to protect her face.

  There was the awful sound of crunching bones and tearing sinew, a body hitting the ground hard.

  In the next instant something hit her square in the belly, knocking the breath out of her lungs and lifting her right off her feet.

  Then she was hanging forward, the blur of moonlit rocky ground speeding by under her. Dazed, it took her an instant to realize R’har had swung her over his shoulder, his arm around her knees to keep firm hold of her as he ran full out.

  Hope gripped the leather of his jacket to steady herself, trying not to be sick. He plunged into the forest, zigzagging as he ran, and with every change of direction her hip hit painfully against the bone of his shoulder.

  “R’har, I—”

  “Quiet!” he hissed without breaking his pace.

  Hope pressed her lips together and kept her jaw clenched to keep silent against the bruising blows to her hip. For a long time there was nothing but the dark ground blurring by, the sound of his footfalls, the crush of leaves and twigs beneath.

  Hope gasped as icy water splashed her face. He’d plunged into a stream, running still, then they were out of the water and back into the woods, but the branches above must be far denser, enough so that they blocked the moons’ light because she couldn’t see the ground at all now.

  R’har stumbled a bit in the darkness and instinctively her hold on his jacket tightened. He trotted a few more paces then stopped. Even he, g’hir that he was, was breathing hard and ragged after that run. Blades of soft grass suddenly came into her view again, lit by Olari’s strong moonlight as he stopped just at the edge of a clearing.

  He paused and she knew he was listening for sounds of pursuit. Motion sick from the upside down journey, Hope had to focus her full attention on just keeping the roasted fregar from lunch from making an appearance.

  R’har bent to set her on her feet but she couldn’t stay there. Her head still spinning, Hope landed hard on her butt in the dirt.

  “Are you hurt?” R’har rasped, squatting down to peer at her. “Little one, are you hurt?”

  “Oh man,” she groaned. She pressed her palms down into the ground at her sides, trying to fight off the nausea. “No, but my stomach sure isn’t happy right now . . .” She grimaced. “And in the dark. Jeez, let’s not do that again, okay?”

  He pushed himself up to stand, facing back the way they’d come.

  “I do not hear them coming on foot. I do not hear a scout ship.” His breath was still coming hard but he sniffed deeply, then again. “I do not scent their stench on the breeze. We have eluded them—for now.”

  “Those were Zerar?” Hope shuddered. “Ugly fucks, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” he spat. “With souls as hideous and twisted as their faces.”

  Hope shook her head. “I thought—I mean, it’s been days! I really thought they’d given up on us.”

  “They should have long since left this system.” His hands clenched into fists. “They should not have such interest in one small ship!”

  “R’har, they saw me,” Hope whispered, ice running through her veins. “Those two back there. They saw me. They know I’m not g’hir.”

  “It does not matter. They are dead now.”

  “But my world, Earth . . .” It had happened so fast she hadn’t even seen most of it and was really glad too. “Are you sure? That you killed them, I mean? You have to be sure.”

  “I killed them.”

  R’har snarl was so fierce she lifted her head to look up at him. “Are you okay?”

  “They threatened you.” His fists were still clenched, his body so tense it was trembling, his fangs white in the moonlight. “That filth raised their weapons against you!”

  “I’m okay,” she assured. “Really.”

  “I broke their necks but they did not deserve such a quick death.” His lips were drawn back, his face savage, alien. “They deserved to suffer!”

  Hope wet her lips. “R’har, you’re scaring me.”

  His glowing eyes blinked, his brow furrowed. “You need never fear me.”

  “I don’t mean—I know you’d never hurt me. I just—you kinda look like you wish you’d torn their heads off or something.”

  For an instant his expression said that he would have preferred that exactly but then his face softened.

  “You are my lifemate, my little one, my Hope,” he growled with warm overtones of that rumble-purr of his. “I cannot bear the idea of a threat to you. You are everything to me.”

  “I’m fine.” Hope pushed herself up to stand and spread her arms. “See?”

  “Hope—”

  “I’m fine,” she repeated.

  His knees buckled.

  “R’har!” She tried to catch him but all she managed to do was fall with him.

  He gave a low moan, his body curling in toward his left side.

  “What is it?” she cried. “I can’t see!”

  She fumbled around at his pockets and found the mini-lumina there.

  “No! The Zerar will—”

  “Fuck the Zerar!” She got the lumina working and shone the light on his side. Her eyes widened at the wounds, at the blood he was losing. “You were shot?” she gasped. “They shot you? Damn it, R’har! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You are safe.” He shook his head. “You are all that matters.”

  “The medical kit,” she muttered, pushing to stand. “There’s a medical kit back at the camp—”

  He caught her before she could gain her feet, his eyes wild. “No.”

  “Let go!” she cried, struggling against his hold. “They’re dead, you said so yourself! Let go! I have to go back for the fucking—”

  “No!” His grip tightened. “They will not have sent only two soldiers, there will be more. More on this world now, hunting us. You cannot return to the campsite.”

  “Then tell me what to do here!” He didn’t reply and she pushed her hair out of her face. “We should—I’ll tear my shirt, yours too, we’ll bind it and then—”

  “Little one—” He gave her wrist a tug to get her attention, his breath coming in wheezes now. “The relay station. Hide yourself from them . . . find it . . .”
>
  “I am not leaving you.” Hope’s nostrils flared. “I won’t ever leave you.”

  His mouth curved into the saddest of smiles. “And I would give anything—not to leave you . . .”

  “There’ll be medical supplies at the relay station, R’har. We just have to get there, okay? We’ve just got to figure out how to stop the bleeding long enough to—”

  “Zerar weapons prevent the blood from clotting, there is no stopping it now. My beloved . . .” He cupped her cheek in his warm palm and his growl was a bit forced now. “I am dying.”

  “No.” Hope shook her head again, tears overflowing. “Please . . .”

  “Do not make tears. I will not have you blame yourself . . . and I will not have you grieve for me. I do not deserve it.” His face was ragged as his hand slipped from her cheek. “It is my fault you are here . . . that you are—in danger—the ship—”

  “This is not your fault, R’har.” She pressed harder, but his blood continued to flow through her fingers. “You were working as fast as you could!”

  “No, it was—my doing—”

  “No, R’har.” Was he in shock or something? “Don’t you remember? The ship was damaged when we jumped away from Earth. You were making repairs—”

  “I vowed to you.” He caught her wrist but his grip was weak now, his gaze desperate, startlingly bright in the moonlight. “Promised—to tell you. The ship . . . was not damaged.”

  “But you said—I mean the repairs you were—”

  Hope searched his eyes, his wretched, raw expression.

  “You lied,” she breathed. “You lied to me.”

  His eyes shut briefly. “Yes,” he croaked.

  “The communications array . . .” she remembered. “You said—you said it was too damaged to call for help but then during the attack you used it. I knew and I just—just like always I—” She shook her head again. The hurt of it, the betrayal, was like a knife twisting in her gut. “But . . . why, R’har? Why tell me that we were stranded? Why pretend that the ship needed repairs?”