Marked for Danger [Marked 3]

by Jennifer Leeland

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Xandros flew the shuttle, burning the engines, straining the shields in the atmosphere of Nariad, an odd planet devoid of an established outpost. But here, he'd used his bond to Carina to follow her.

  When he'd seen the ship she was on, he'd almost panicked. He'd only been on the Destiny once, and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. Father Pestori was a nutcase with sycophants and Primarian assholes surrounding him.

  He'd known the minute she was awake. He'd sensed her cold determination to escape and the danger she'd risked to do it. Every second counted, so he'd hacked into the Destiny's systems, disrupting their sensors and making Carina difficult to pinpoint on their own ship. When her lifepod shot out from the port side of the ship, he screamed after her.

  She'd hit the gate too fast and too hard, and when he'd exited the gate, he watched, horrified, as she careened toward Nariad. There was only one thing to do. He flew the shuttle directly under the lifepod and matched its speed. Then, straining, he started to pull the two connected vessels up to avoid a crash on the surface.

  He wasn't going to make it. Electricity sparked, and he lost navigation. The shuttle shuddered like it was going to shatter into a million pieces. Somehow Xandros held on, keeping the shuttle and the pod on track.

  They hit the ground hard, and Xandros jerked in his seat, his body flung against the straps. He threw up his arms as the nose of the shuttle slammed into the dirt. Metal and plastic shards rained on him, and the shuttle's outer hull creaked ominously.

  Finally, the forward motion stopped, and the scream of grinding metal faded. All Xandros could hear was his harsh breathing. Gingerly, he removed his safety straps and crawled out of his seat. It took several kicks, but he got the door opened, and dropped onto the ground.

  This hadn't been part of the plan. Shaun had stayed on the ship with Leo and Princess Sera in case Xandros screwed up and needed a rescue. Well, it looked like he was going to need one.

  The lifepod had slid off the roof of the shuttle and shot several hundred yards through the trees. Xandros picked his way through the thick vegetation to the lifepod. Vaguely, he became aware he was growling, a low dangerous sound that vibrated through the woods.

  Metal was no barrier between Xandros and his marked mate. He ripped it away and started to lift Carina out of the pod. Remnants of a robe were still burning, and he had to tear the cloth off her, praying she wasn't burned beneath it. Finally, he was able to pull her from the smoldering ship. His heart wrenched at her nakedness, her fragility. Her hair had been viciously hacked off. There were needle marks all over her body. He was stunned that the Brotherhood had been able to do such damage in such a short time.

  He almost physically stumbled under the weight of the guilt. He had believed she was safe for the time being, since the prophecy stated the Brotherhood had to own her soul to rule the universe. What had they done to her?

  She didn't move as he carried her to a clearing beside the shuttle and stared at the wreckage. His com was out. No calling Shaun or Leo. The question became who would find them first: the Brotherhood or his friends.

  Finally, Carina stirred in his arms, and he shifted her so she would be more comfortable. Her eyes opened, and he experienced such relief he thought he'd cry from it. It's just the hormones. The mark makes it seem like something more than it is.

  "Who the hell are you?” Her voice was hoarse.

  He stared at her, and his stomach plummeted. Mind wiped. Why hadn't they thought of that one? Having all her memories, her personality, everything, removed was the one way to own her soul, wasn't it? It wasn't a common tool, but the Brotherhood had been known to use it to control the disobedient and to punish detractors. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Shit."

  "Normally, I'd make some crack about someone named ‘Shit,’ but I'd rather know what the fuck you think you're doing touching me.” Now her tone was sharp and dangerous.

  Gently, he slid her out of his lap and against the tree. “Seeing is believing.” He rose and dropped his pants.

  "Is this foreplay, because—” Her gaze focused on the herwalk branded on his inner thigh, one wing unfurled around his cock. Her hand automatically covered the matching mark on her right arm. “Who are you?” she whispered.

  He pulled up his pants and knelt down, not touching her. “My name is Xandros. I am your marked mate."

  Her forehead wrinkled, and she blinked. “What does that mean?” Her gaze narrowed. “It's a trick."

  He shook his head. “The Blueshift Brotherhood mind wiped you."

  "Priests,” she said, her nostrils flared and her mouth compressed in disgust. Her fingers shook when she lifted them to rub her temples. “And that's why I can't remember things."

  "That's why.” He scanned the forest. The nearest settlement—if you could call it that—was only a mile away, but the information he had on the population was sketchy at best.

  "There's a blanket in the lifepod,” Carina said interrupting his thoughts.

  He immediately fetched the blanket from the pod and wrapped her in it. Just that slight touch made his mark burn and need shoot through him. One thought dominated his brain.

  He'd almost lost her.

  It shouldn't have mattered. He'd marked her to track her, to keep tabs on her whereabouts. He'd believed that a mate mark was...just a mark. But the almost overwhelming need to possess her had driven him further than he'd ever thought he'd go and overridden common sense and his usually strong sense of self-preservation.

  All the myths Xandros had been told about the mate mark were true. The rage existed; he'd felt it. Proximity increased the need. He could sense her; somehow he was connected to this enigmatic woman. It meant the other myths were true too. Like the one that stated marks were made when a male desired to dominate a woman in the deepest way. Just fucking wouldn't create the bond.

  And that meant he'd had strong feelings for her even when he hadn't known her.

  It scared the living shit out of him.

  Carina stared at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?"

  He pressed his lips together. She didn't have a clue. “Do you remember what mate marks mean?"

  "No.” She licked her lips and blinked. “What do they mean?"

  He shook his head. “It doesn't matter. I'll wait until you remember."

  Xandros still knelt beside her, his hands on the folds of the blanket he'd wrapped around her. When he started to pull away, her hand shot out and gripped his. “What if I never remember? Please."

  Her plea almost wrecked him. He stood and yanked her to her feet. “Let's go."

  He dropped her hands and strode through the trees in the general direction the shuttle's nav had shown the settlement to be. Move. They had to keep on the move.

  "Where are we going?” She was breathless, and he couldn't wait for her to catch up. He wasn't sure what he'd do if they stopped.

  "There's a settlement this way. We'll try and find a com to call my friends.” He pulled her behind him ruthlessly.

  "Just a minute,” she said in a harsh tone and tried to yank her hand away. “I don't know who the hell you are. I don't know what this mark means. And I don't like being dragged around."

  He stopped, turned to face her, and she bumped into his chest. His whole body went on sexual alert, his mark hot and burning. The trembling that rippled through her when his hands gripped her shoulders only made it worse. He gritted his teeth. “You want to know who I am?” He dug his fingers into her flesh. “I am your only hope of survival."

  Her gaze narrowed. “Bullshit."

  "You're saying I should have let your pod burn up in the atmosphere?” Infuriated, he resisted the urge to shake her.

  "No, of course not—"

  "Good. Then let's try and get off this hellhole so we can get your memories back.” He turned his back and gripped her hand. The best thing for both of them was to get off this backward planet and try to undo the mind wipe.

  He'd seen mind-wiped victims before. Carina certainly
didn't act like them. Those poor souls barely remembered the basics. But she remembered her training, the underlying foundation of her personality. Those things didn't survive a mind wipe. Either they hadn't finished it or...what?

  The good thing was that she'd have a better chance of regaining her memory than most. Usually the prognosis was pretty grim. It meant a visit to Teran Five. Xandros didn't like that at all.

  Rudimentary hovels dotted the landscape and animals grazed in the center. People were hard at work milking, milling, or cooking at every residence. There were no stalls on the street or businesses. These were clearly people who relied one another for survival, not commerce.

  He and Carina were spotted immediately, and every member of the village stopped what they were doing to stare. Almost every gaze focused on Carina's mark on her arm. Xandros didn't like the way they looked at her.

  He walked in slowly, not forcefully but cautiously. Finally a woman stepped out from one of the huts and came closer to him. She was tall and thin with reddish blonde hair and deep green eyes. The shape and color of her eyes gave her away immediately. Ardasian. Mind readers.

  Ardasians had been around the galaxy a lot longer than most. Xandros steered clear of them when he could. As a mercenary, he'd had to put up with Ardasian intermediaries. A few times, he'd been able to deceive them. But not often and not for long.

  The woman smiled. “Long enough, Xandros Jasper. Long enough that your name has reached my ears. Even here.” She reached out a hand to Carina first. “Atlana Dresell."

  Carina glanced at the woman's hand and then her gaze narrowed on her face. After a moment, she took Atlana's hand and touched it briefly. She shot a glance at him, and he realized she didn't know her name.

  He stepped in smoothly and extended a hand to the other woman. “This is Carina."

  Atlana stared at Carina. “Interesting."

  Xandros dropped his hand. Damn it. All he wanted was a com. This was getting complicated and the Brotherhood was probably going to find them soon.

  The rest of the village had gathered around Carina and himself in a circle, and one of them spoke to Atlana. She glanced at the speaker and then nodded. Then she took a deep breath. “I study the Nariadians, the natives of this planet, and their origins. Their language is complex and quite fascinating.” Her green eyes glittered. “The meaning of their legends aren't clear, but there's one that concerns you specifically."

  Xandros's blood ran cold. Nothing good ever came from a legend or a prophecy. “Oh?” He slid his arm around Carina, ready to protect her if needed.

  "They say,” Atlana began, her gaze locked with his, “that a woman will come to this planet bonded, marked with a bird. She and her marked mate will save the universe from a hidden evil."

  Xandros said nothing. He didn't want anything to do with prophecies or legends. It was bad enough to have Leo Eyler quoting some ancient alien prophecy that involved his new mate, but now some out-of-the-way planet had a legend.

  It was enough to make anyone paranoid.

  "Then perhaps you would help us notify our friends.” He glanced at the faces in the circle and then met Atlana's disconcerting stare.

  "They require proof,” Atlana said bluntly.

  "Proof,” he repeated. Proof of what? That they were going to save the fucking universe? Right. Sure. He'd get right on that.

  "Proof of your bond.” Atlana's gaze slid over the mark on Carina's arm. “Marks can be faked."

  Shit. Xandros knew where this was headed. He glared at Atlana. “No."

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “They will not help you unless you show them."

  Xandros gritted his teeth. “You know why I won't."

  "Your actions don't fit your reputation,” Atlana said drily. “The great Xandros Jasper I've heard stories of would have done much and had no regrets."

  "Would someone like to fill me in?” Carina asked in a tight voice.

  Without breaking eye contact with the Ardasian, he answered her. “The bond is created by sex.” He waited a moment for that to sink in and then said, “They want proof of our bond."

  "I see."

  Xandros glanced at her, and her pasty white complexion concerned him. He turned his attention to the people standing in a circle around them. “I'm not sure why they need this. They don't know you can't remember."

  One of the villagers spoke to Atlana, and she nodded. “They've agreed to a compromise."

  "I'm listening.” He tried to remain calm.

  "Any foreplay would create the fire, would it not?"

  Considering just touching Carina caused his mark to burn and throb, foreplay would most definitely work. “Yes."

  "A kiss, then.” Atlana glanced at Carina. “To show the bond."

  "Do they require that I drop my pants?” he asked bitterly.

  Atlana leveled a steady gaze in his direction. “Of course."

  He sighed. He wasn't an exhibitionist, and public exposure didn't get him hot and bothered. But this was their chance to prove they were bonded. He yanked his pants open and dropped them.

  "I am not doing this,” Carina whispered fiercely. “I don't remember you. I don't know you."

  He ignored the stab of pain in his gut her words caused and faced his infuriated marked mate. “You will.” He stepped closer to her, not touching, not grabbing. “You will obey me. Do you know why?"

  She gazed at him, her eyes dilated, her breath short. “No."

  "Because it makes your stomach tighten when I give you an order. Because your pulse pounds when I put my hands on you. Because you long for your Master to claim what your body already knows you've surrendered."

  He leaned in, his mouth close to hers. “Because the mark on your arm is on fire right now, and I haven't even touched you."

  She closed her eyes and whimpered. “No,” she whispered, but every cell of her body reached out to him, submitted to him.

  Xandros forgot the Nariadians. He forgot Atlana. He forgot everything except the woman in front of him. He wanted her on her knees, his cock in her mouth. He wanted his collar around her neck, a sign of his possession.

  But most of all, he wanted to kiss her.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  If the man didn't close the space between them, Carina was going to take matters into her own hands. But something held her back. He was right. When he gave her orders, when he spoke in that low, demanding tone, her whole being responded. She wanted to drop to her knees, to bow her head. It was instinctive, impulsive.

  And when he said the word “Master,” she had such an intense longing that she almost moaned from the force of it. Waiting, needing, dying for his touch. This man she didn't know. This man with a matching mark who had saved her life.

  "Please,” she begged him. “Touch me."

  A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he jerked her in his arms. The mark flared hotter, sending needles of pain along her nerves. But pleasure and pain were blurred for Carina, and she wanted it all.

  He plundered her mouth like a marauder, taking and taking until she had no breath, no will, nothing but pleasure. He gripped her shoulders, and when she raised her hands to touch him, he shifted until he restrained her arms behind her back. The blanket dropped away, and she gasped as her naked skin rubbed against the rough fabric of his shirt.

  At his mercy, she wondered if she'd done this before, surrendered body and soul to this stranger. Yet the flavor of him, the feel of him, was right.

  Suddenly, he broke the kiss and stepped back, removing all contact with her. She felt bereft and cold. She kept her gaze downcast, instinctively knowing this was what she was supposed to do.

  "Look at me,” he said in a low tone.

  She glanced up and cringed at the grim expression on his face. His lips tightened, and he held up her arm. Her mark glowed fiery red. His was blazing as well. His cock was iron hard, and she resisted the urge to capture the length in her hand. What the hell was wrong with her? Sh
e didn't know him, and yet she wanted him.

  He held her gaze and said in a whisper, “It's the hormones. I will not take advantage of this."

  She tried to understand what he meant. “You were right. About what I felt."

  He groaned and closed his eyes. Gently, he picked the blanket up and draped it over her shoulders, covering her. “It's all instinct. Believe me, machinka. It's just lust.” He glared at the crowd. “Proof enough?"

  Atlana bowed her head. “More than enough."

  Xandros pulled up his pants. “Perhaps we could find somewhere less public to talk."

  The woman nodded and waved her hand to a small cottage. “Certainly."

  It was beginning to sink in. Xandros had dominated her, knowing she was a submissive. The words were there and the meaning of them, but Carina didn't know how she knew them. He'd proven their bond and didn't need to kiss her. But she'd begged him, and he'd “obliged.” Bitterly, she accepted that she'd created the very scenario she'd been afraid of in the first place.

  Yet she couldn't help feeling he'd manipulated her. The frustration of not remembering and the humiliation of her capitulation to a man who was essentially a stranger to her combined to put sneer in her tone. “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” she said.

  Something skirted at the edge of her consciousness. She'd said those words before. To him.

  Everything began to spin, and she tried to hold on to the moment. When had she said those words? How had she known this man? But the memories flitted away, leaving her frustrated and angry. And dizzy.

  "Let it go, Carina. Don't try and remember.” His voice came from far away.

  She realized he'd taken her in his arms and was carrying her. Her instinct screamed to fight him, get away from him, but she was too weak. Another part of her wanted to snuggle closer to him, wind her arms around him like a vine so there was no space between them.

  This was insane.

  She took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. When she opened them, Xandros had carried her into a small hut. He dropped her to her feet near a cushioned chair and waited until she was seated. Then he stepped away abruptly, backpedaling from any contact with her as if she were contaminated.