by Susan Hayes
“This is going to take some time to get used to.”
“Do you not like the change? Do my eyes bother you?”
“Your eyes are gorgeous. Just like the rest of you. But you knew this would happen to you. I got up this morning thinking this was going to be another ordinary day.” She laughed and threw out her arms to take in everything around them. “I’m on a spaceship orbiting Earth, and apparently my soulmate is an alien. Oh, and let’s not forget that my friends have also been claimed by aliens, all because Lisa talked us into signing up for an online dating service months ago.”
“I shall have to thank your friend Lisa when I meet her.” He stroked a possessive hand along her thigh.
“Me too.” She looked around, taking her first real look at Kash’s quarters. There wasn’t much to see. The furniture was all made from the same off-white material that looked something like plastic, while the cushions and bed linens were all patterned after the uniforms she’d seen the crew wearing: black, with hints of orange and white. The only thing out of place were their clothes, which were still strewn in heaps across the floor.
It wasn’t anything like she’d imagined a starship would look like, but if she had any doubts about where she was, and who she was with, all she had to do was look in a mirror.
Kash knew that his rooms were barren and cold compared to the comfortable haven Gwen had created for herself back on Earth. He could claim that it was because these were only temporary quarters, but his residence back on Pyros wasn’t much better. A lifetime of military service had made him a minimalist. He could live in the palace, but he’d always chosen to reside near his men. Now that Gwen was part of his life, that would have to change. Flames. Everything was going to change, now. He stared in wonder at the female curled against his side. He was a mated male.
Curious, he held up his hand and focused his thoughts, visualizing flames enveloping his fingers. The fire erupted almost instantly.
“Whoa! Warn a girl, would you?” Gwen flinched, then retreated from the flames.
“Apologies. I hadn’t expected it to work the first time I tried it.” He banished the flames with a flick of his hand.
“Isn’t fire a bad thing in space? What happens if you set the room on fire? Or me, for that matter? I’ve already been burned once today, thank you.”
“As my mate, you are immune to my flames. And given what we are, every ship in the fleet is outfitted with extensive fire prevention measures. There was a time when there were enough mated soldiers that they could work together to form a sort of living weapon. We were feared throughout worlds, and none dared to threaten us.” He summoned the flame again, a tiny blaze that danced on his outstretched palm.
“You’re sure I won’t get burned?”
“I would never risk harming you, kaheya.”
She ran her fingers up the length of his forearm, pausing when she reached his hand. “I don’t feel much heat.”
“Nor do I.”
It pleased him that she trusted him enough to test the flame, passing her hand over of it, and then through it.
“That’s amazing. I thought you were a badass before. Now, you’re like a badass dual-class fighter wizard.”
“A what?” He had no idea what a wizard was, but he liked the sound of it.
“I guess your education didn’t include Tolkien’s books or Dungeons and Dragons. A wizard is someone who can wield magic. Not that magic really exists. Well, maybe it does. I mean, Lisa drew a picture of Vadir weeks ago, and she got every detail right. So maybe?” She closed her eyes. “I’m too tired to deal with that possibility right now. I’m still dealing with the fact aliens are real.”
“You can tell me more about wizards and Tolkien another time. And I would like to hear about dragons, too. The Romaki dragon clans will likely be very interested to hear that there is a word for their species on your planet. Perhaps the Pyrosians were not the only ones to visit your world.”
“Wait. What? There are space dragons? Big, fire-breathing lizard things with wings and piles of treasure?”
“There are two Romaki clans: Snow and Fire. They are an ancient race, and yes, in their beast forms they do have wings.” He chuckled. “And Vadir would tell you that they enjoy holding onto their wealth. He was part of the last round of trade negotiations between our races, and it did not end well.”
Gwen snuggled in beside him with a sleepy groan. “Lisa is going to be so, so, smug. Not only do aliens exist, but dragons do, too.”
“You should rest while you can. Neither of us have slept much, yet, and we’re both going to be at the mercy of the Scorching for the next while.” He reached over and drew the top blanket over them both.
She draped her arm across his stomach and settled her head on his chest. “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”
“I’ll be here, kaheya.” He had nowhere else to be. For the first time in years, he had no duties to perform or plan for. No responsibilities to fulfill. It felt wrong, somehow.
“Good,” she murmured. There was a short pause, then she said, “I’m glad you disobeyed orders tonight. I can’t imagine how this night would have gone if you hadn’t come for me.”
“Me, either.”
She fell into an exhausted sleep within minutes, trusting him to watch over her as she slept. His little mate had given him so many gifts. Unsurpassed pleasure, acceptance, and now, her trust. He wasn’t worthy of her. She deserved someone without his scars. Someone like Vadir or the prince. She deserved more than him, but now that he had claimed her, he could never let her go.
An hour passed, but he couldn’t sleep. There was too much in his head, and in his heart. When should he inform his liege that he’d taken a mate against orders? Would he be punished? It was possible. So long as they did not blame Gwen, he’d accept any punishment. His family would want to know of his good fortune. His mother and father would be happy, and Kylara, his sister, would be ecstatic to learn she had a mate-sister at long last.
He was still sorting through his thoughts when a soft chime sounded, and a red light flashed on the wall monitor nearest the bed. Not wanting to wake Gwen, he rose and activated another monitor, far enough away that he could speak without disturbing her. He didn’t bother dressing first. If they were contacting him now, they’d have good reason. Whatever it was, he doubted it was good news.
His second in command, Bortan Zell, snapped off a quick salute as he appeared on the monitor. “Commander, we have a situation.”
“Report.”
“Vadir Rahal missed his last check-in. There’s no reply to our messages, and the Redshift 7 is not showing on our scans.”
His gut knotted. “He was supposed to keep a passive beacon active so we’d be able to track his ship even when shielded. What happened?”
Zell stiffened. “We’re still investigating, sir. It appears there was a communication breakdown during shift change. The incoming officer was not aware they were supposed to be tracking a secondary beacon.”
“How long ago did we lose contact?” Kash asked through gritted teeth.
“Last contact with Redshift 7 was six hours ago. Because the beacon was passive, the ship’s systems were not automatically tracking it, so we can’t be certain—”
Kash cut him off. “Find a way to become certain, and find it before I get to the bridge. Denza out.”
The monitor went black, and so did his mood. This was what happened when he forfeited his responsibilities for even a few hours. The lives of two males were in his hands, and he’d allowed himself to be distracted. That couldn’t happen again.
Guilt and anger churned inside him as he donned his uniform and made himself presentable in short order. He was almost at the door when he stopped and turned around to look at Gwen. She was fast asleep, curled in his bed with one arm thrown over his pillow. She’d sleep for another two hours at least. More than enough time to find out what had happened and get back to her before she woke.
6
Gwen w
oke with a gasp, her heart pounding.
Why do I always wake up before the good bit?” She groggily recalled the erotic dream she’d had. She’d been with the sexiest man she’d ever seen, dark and serious, with the most amazing golden eyes. The details had been so vivid, the whole dream so realistic, that even awake she was still shaking with need and out of breath.
She sat up, groaning as her muscles protested the sudden movement. She ached like she had gone to the gym and tried to make up for six months of inactivity in a single session. She felt overheated, too. Did she have a fever? Gwen reached up to touch the back of her hand to her forehead, then froze as she finally registered her surroundings. She wasn’t in her bed, and this was not her room or even her house.
Panic spurred her sleep-muddled mind, and the recollections of the night’s events came rushing back. Kash. Spaceships and golden lights. Kash naked. Whoa. She flopped back on the bed. She was on a spaceship in orbit around Earth, and her dream lover wasn’t a dream at all.
“Kash?”
No answer. He wouldn’t have left her alone. He’d promised not to. She looked around the room. Their clothes were still in a tangled heap on the floor, along with her purse. Everything was the same as when she’d gone to sleep, but there was no sign of Kash. She called his name again and got out of bed. Feeling vulnerable, she grabbed her shirt off the floor and put it on. That was a mistake. She was so sensitive that even the light touch of the fabric felt like a sensual caress against her skin.
A rush of raw need slammed into her with dizzying force, and she flung out a hand to steady herself against the nearest wall. What the hell was wrong with her? She touched the back of her hand to her forehead and winced. She was burning up. She staggered around the room, keeping one hand on the wall as she explored. She found a panel and waved her hand over it. A wall slid open, revealing a closet inside. There were a few uniforms that looked like the ones the other crew of the ship wore, and a pair of polished boots sat on the floor. There was space for another pair of boots, and one of the hangers was empty. She already knew he’d left, but seeing the proof of it tore into her like a jagged blade.
He’d broken his promise to stay with her. How could she trust him not to break them all? Did he mean anything he’d said, or was he just trying to keep her quiet and out of the way until he decided what to do with her?
Hurting and unsteady, she went back to her pile of clothing and got dressed. She didn’t even bother to try putting on her bra. Just the shirt and pants were torture enough. She was drugged with desire, her body trembling with need for the man who had lied and left her.
“Computer?” She called out to the empty air. “Ship?” She tried again, hoping that some sort of AI would respond to her queries. Nothing happened, and she gave up trying. “Apparently, in space, no one can hear me…at all. Dammit, Kash. Where are you?”
For a brief second, she felt like he was there with her. It was so real she could swear she heard him speak her name. The feeling faded but didn’t completely disappear. It was like a whisper in the back of her mind. If Lisa were here, she’d know what to do. Lisa was the one who believed in soulmates, magic, and telepathy. Gwen just read about them.
She looked around again and laughed at herself. She had proof that aliens were real. Maybe the rest of it was, too. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the whisper in the back of her mind. The one that felt like Kash. His presence was like a beacon that got brighter the more she focused. She was certain she could find him. They were connected. The bond between them was getting stronger, just as he said it would. How could he leave her alone to deal with all of this by herself?
Hurt, angry, and still drunk on desires she couldn’t control, she took a deep breath and made her way over to the panel she hoped would open the door they’d come in by. She waved her hand over it, but no door appeared.
“Come on. I got the damned closet door to open. Why won’t you?” She tried poking a few of the buttons, then pressed her palm to the pad. It flashed an ugly shade of orange, and an automated voice uttered a few terse words in Pyrosian.
She tried again, and again the automated voice barked at her. Frustrated, she slammed her hand down on the pad. “Let me out of here!”
Something inside her snapped, and all her fear, hurt, and stress of the past twenty-four hours erupted. She threw back her head and screamed. A roaring filled her ears, drowning out the sound of her voice, and then everything went red.
Kash stared at the forward monitor as if he could command Vadir’s beacon to appear on it by force of will alone. There was no sign of the ship, and all their attempts to contact Vadir or the AI that controlled the Redshift 7 had met with nothing but silence. The crew was working frantically to uncover any trace of the missing vessel. So far, the only fact they’d uncovered was that the ship had powered up its engines and taken off, but they’d vanished shortly thereafter.
The only good news was what they hadn’t found. There was no sign of wreckage, and none of the human agencies they were scanning had mentioned anything of concern. It was likely that Vadir’s ship had crashed, but they had to be at least semi-operational, or they wouldn’t be able to shield themselves from detection.
He needed to find Vadir and get this mission back on a stable orbit. Then, he’d give in to the need that tore through him like a living flame. He knew now why it was called the Scorching. It hurt to be away from Gwen. It was agonizing to deny himself the pleasure of her touch. He embraced the pain. This was his punishment for allowing himself to be distracted. If he’d been on the bridge, the miscommunication would have never happened. But he hadn’t been there. He’d handed off the responsibility to others. He’d failed.
“Status update,” he demanded.
“Nothing to report, sir.”
They were performing a methodical search of the area, but the odds of finding something while the ship was shielded were minimal at best. It beat doing nothing, however. When he had to make his report, he’d be able to say that they’d done everything they could. It wouldn’t count for much, though. Not unless they found the ship and got it and its occupants, off the planet before they were detected.
He drummed his fingers against his thigh as he pondered which he dreaded more, telling the king he’d blown the mission, or telling Gwen that her friend Lisa was missing.
Gwen. She’d be awake soon. She was human, so the Scorching shouldn’t be affecting her as strongly as it did him, but he’d have to return to her soon. How long had he been away from her? He wasn’t sure.
A pang of guilt hit him. He was failing her, too. No matter what he did, it wasn’t enough. If Torel learned he was back on the bridge, he’d put him on report. If he left, then the search for Vadir could go awry. If he stayed, then Gwen would wake alone. He was damned no matter what course he plotted.
Another flare of red-hot need speared through him, and this time, he heard an echo of someone else’s pain. Gwen. She was awake, alone, and hurting. He’d broken his promise. That knowledge spurred him to make the choice he probably should have made from the beginning. He turned on his heel and headed for the door.
“You have the bridge.”
Three steps from the exit, a klaxon sounded, accompanied by the voice of the ship’s computer. “Fire in Section 09-1. Repeat. Fire in Section 09-1. Initiating fire suppression program.”
Kash sprinted off the bridge. Section nine was designated crew quarters. Compartment one belonged to the ship’s commander. Him. Gwen was in danger.
It took him less than a minute to get to his quarters, but it was still too long. Gwen could be dead or injured, and it would be his fault.
He activated the door and charged inside, only to be met with a cloud of acrid smoke and even more acidic language.
“If you don’t let me the fuck out of here, I swear to fucking god I’m going to set fire to…Finally!”
Gwen was standing by the door, drenched in fire-retardant foam streaked with soot.
“You are unh
urt?” He grabbed her and folded her into his arms, running his hands over every inch of her body, looking for injuries.
“No thanks to you! You left. You locked me in your room and left after you promised not to. And then I was mad, and the stupid door wouldn’t open, and the computer kept yelling at me in Pyrosian and then fwoosh! Flames everywhere.” She flung out her hands, sending gobs of foam flying.
“There was an emergency on the bridge, kaheya. I had to go. I’m sorry. I should have come back sooner.”
She glowered up at him, iridescent foam sliding off her dark skin to reveal she was naked underneath. “You shouldn’t have broken your promise to me. At the very least, you could have woken me up to tell me why you were leaving. “
Her small hand slapped against his chest. “You’re a jerk. A big, sexy jerk. And I want to be mad at you, but I can’t because this stupid Scorching thing is making me crazy. I hurt, Kash. And I set things on fire. How did I do that?”
She was trembling now, her curvy body rubbing against his. It was hard to think past the lust fogging his brain, but he owed her answers. Gods, he owed her so much more than that. “I don’t know. You’re human. None of this should be possible. I thought you would be less affected by the Scorching as I was. I thought I was the only one who would suffer if we stayed apart.”
“Why were you away from her, Commander? I am certain I ordered you to stay with your mate until the Scorching was over.” Torel appeared in the doorway, his features twisted into a disapproving scowl. Even displeased, he remembered to speak in English so Gwen could understand.
Kash tucked Gwen behind him, blocking Torel’s view of his naked mate. “Get out, Torel. My mate is unclothed.”
The medical officer stopped, then took a step backward, gesturing to whoever was behind him to stay back. “I can see you stayed away too long. Are you in control? How’s the pain?”
“Barely, and bearable,” Kash replied.
“No, and it hurts!” Gwen called out from behind him. “I did this, so I’d say it’s pretty clear I’m not in control. And what do you mean, you ordered him to stay with me?”