Her head tipped back, and her long lashes parted to reveal dull and haunted brown eyes.
He sucked in a shocked breath. “They’ve changed back.” The reality of what she’d been saying struck hard, like a blow from an iron fist dead center in his chest.
Her small hands rose, and she clutched fistfuls of his tunic. When her next words came, they were raw and biting. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Trask, but what we had revolved around my belief I couldn’t ever go home. You captured us, took our ship, and spoke of never letting us go. I thought my only hope for any kind of life on Primaria was to submit to you. But I never wanted that. I accepted it as my fate because I thought I had no other. Don't you see?”
He didn’t, nor did he understand. No one had ever un-transformed to his knowledge. It went against everything he’d ever known about mates.
Forcing his fingers to relax their grip, he stepped away; the physical act of letting her go the hardest thing he’d ever done. She swayed and staggered back, reaching out with a trembling hand to catch herself on the wall.
He needed time to think, to speak to the others, confer with his leader, and consult, Jarlan, their most learned physic. If she insisted on going, what could he do? Could he stop her, and keep her as his mate, anyway? How would such an act affect negotiations between their two worlds? Would it impact the thousands of others who hoped to claim a compatible human of their own to mate and breed with—putting an end to their inevitable extinction was what had started this whole mess, after all. With those uncertainties aside, did he want a lifemate who was miserable and became ill in his presence? Could he bear to watch or put her through it?
A coldness settled over him. “I will leave you,” he told her in a voice wiped clean of all emotion.
“You accept my decision?”
“It isn't so simple. We are bonded mates.”
“Against my will,” she said in a strained voice. “I am not pregnant. The tests Jarlan performed before I left confirmed it. Therefore, I have the right to ask for dissolution. I conferred with one of your elders who verified the rules.”
Anger flared within him once again. “Who dared?”
“Why does it matter when it is the truth?”
He clamped his jaw and ground out through his teeth. “I will not allow it.”
“I'm sorry, but with the treaty, it is no longer your choice.”
“You’ve already been ill. There is a risk of separation sickness; you could worsen.”
Again, she shook her head. “Unlikely. With our weak bond, I've been assured the symptoms, if we have any, won't be serious.”
He stared at her a moment then bit out, “You've done your research well.”
She bowed her head, but not before he saw twin flags of color rise in her pale cheeks. Was it anger, embarrassment, regret? He couldn't tell without seeing her eyes.
“Lana—”
“Trask, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“If you think it is difficult, you must have some feelings for me—”
“I meant difficult for you,” she cut in. Her tone held no inflection, her features flat, the emotions of earlier hidden, as if behind a cold, impenetrable mask. The warm, loving mate he'd held in his arms only days ago had disappeared. “I’m sorry, but if you recall, I was your captive from the beginning. I did not ask for this.”
At a loss at the complete and utter change in her, he gave a stiff nod. If it had all been an act, the theater director back on Ariad would be impressed. He couldn't believe it and didn't want to. “I’ll give you time to think.”
“Please don’t delude yourself I’ll change my mind. It’s settled. Our bond is severed.”
“Like that?” he asked with a snap of his fingers. “Are you humans so callous you can cast off a lifemate without batting an eye?”
“No, but for all we are similar, we still have vast differences. In my world, we don’t always mate for life. Often, two people just don’t suit. Couples break up, marriages end in divorce, and we learn to move on. I hope you’ll do the same, Trask.”
“I will appeal to the council.”
“And do what?” she asked tiredly. “Keep me as your unwilling mate, your life captive, while I grow to hate you? No. It is done. You must let me go.”
“I’m beginning to think we have made a mistake allying with such a hard-hearted species. No wonder you are always at one another’s throats.”
When she didn’t answer, he grunted, wanting to smash through another wall, or take hold of her and spank some sense into her. But that would accomplish nothing. If what she said was factual, and she had applied for dissolution, he didn’t have the right to touch her at all until their case was heard.
In frustration, he stalked to the door. “I’ll be on the Dauntless should you need me. If you sicken, have your med-bay personnel summon me.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Her reply contained a barely audible tremor.
At the door, he stopped and glanced back. She appeared to be looking through him, not at him, and certainly not in the eye; she couldn’t even give him that much.
With his teeth clamped hard enough for them to crumble to dust, he passed his hand over the sensor. The doors opened with a whoosh, signaling the end of this heart-wrenching scene. She whispered his name stopping him in his tracks, but he didn't turn back, not when she repeated, “I'm sorry, Trask, but I didn't ask for this, and I don’t mean you any ill will. I hope you’ll move on quickly and find someone else, a better, stronger match than me, and be happy.”
“I'm certain your wishes will bring me great comfort at night, as much as they do you in your cold, lonely bed.” There was scorn in his words, but she deserved his animosity.
LANA STOOD ON SHAKY legs watching him leave. The metallic taste of blood was bitter on her tongue from where she’d bitten her cheek, hard, to keep from calling him back. She choked down a sob, somehow, until he was through the portal and the doors had shut behind him. With her hand covering her mouth, the tears came, but they were soundless, not daring to risk him overhearing.
A roared, “Faex,” from the outer room preceded an explosive boom. She heard the little pings of particles hitting the floor and knew he had punched another wall. She strained for the sound of the outer doors sliding open and shut. Even then, she waited, counting agonizing interminable heartbeats.
When she reached ten, unable to hold herself upright, she collapsed to the floor. With her arms around her middle, she curled into a ball as she cried a torrent of body-wracking, agonizing tears.
Lana had accomplished what she felt had to be done, but how would she ever survive?
Chapter One
SPERO MP13 USIF EXPLORATION planet, six weeks earlier...
With every muscle in her body crying out in agony and her chest heaving with a burning ache, Lana staggered to a stop, unable to take another step as her knees buckled. She grasped at anything to keep from falling to the wet forest floor. Her fingers raked over the rough bark of a tree, and as she clung to it, digging in with her nails, several tore free. The biting pain was better than an encounter with the squishy, slimy, sucking substances she’d stepped in repeatedly over the past hour or so. What it was didn’t bear thinking. If she let herself succumb to fear of whatever was out there in this alien world, her panic would become overwhelming.
No, she had to be strong and keep going. Her life depended on it.
She tried to slow her breathing, gulping large mouthfuls of air in the hope some small amount of oxygen would somehow penetrate her constricted lungs. But breathing in the heat of this godforsaken planet was a considerable feat when she hadn’t been running for miles.
Reaching up, she raked the hair back from her face. She also yanked down the zipper of her flight suit a few more inches and peeled the material away from her skin. Both were soaked, not only with the sweat of her exertions. but from the near 100 percent humidity in the air. Why it wasn’t raining, she didn’t know. And while
the twin suns had already set, the sweltering temperature hadn’t dropped a degree as far as Lana could tell.
“Leave it to us to set down in the middle of a freaking rainforest.”
As soon as she grumbled her complaint, she regretted her words. Her pursuer could be within hearing distance. Closing her eyes, she focused on quieting her breathing while she listened.
There was squawking and buzzing in every direction, but no shouts, no twigs snapping, and, thankfully, no thudding footsteps indicating pursuit.
Maybe she had eluded them. Or perhaps they’d given up.
She could only pray it was one of the two because she needed to rest, if only for a few moments. Lana laid her head back against the tree, the bark snagging at her long hair. It also dug into her back, but she didn’t have the energy to move.
Never so miserable in her life, aside from being sticky and hot, with tight, cramping muscles, her skin was on fire, the stinging and burning worst on her face and arms. The source, most likely cuts and scratches from fighting her way through the thick undergrowth and low-lying branches. A machete would have been useful. Instead, with the salt of sweat stinging her eyes she’d run half-blind, using her body, and, evidently her face, to clear her path.
The worst pain was in her right thigh which throbbed in rhythm with her pounding heart. She brushed her fingers over it, hissing at even the lightest of touches on the open wound exposed by the rip in her flight suit. There didn’t seem to be anything protruding from it, but she could feel the tear in the fabric, and a tickling sensation down her leg, likely from oozing blood.
Gruff incomprehensible voices sounded nearby.
A whimper of fear escaped Lana’s throat, and she exerted great restraint to contain the screams threatening to burst free. She forced herself to stand, preparing to run, but pain shot down her injured leg when she put weight on it. Despite her misery, she had to push forward, unable to contemplate what horrors awaited her if she was caught.
Where was the surge of energy, increased strength and exceptional speed of the fight-or-flight response? She got the elevated heart rate, tense muscles, and perhaps, the anesthesia effect of the endorphins because she hadn’t felt the pain of her injury quite so acutely until now. But that’s all. Rather than the superhuman adrenaline-spurred abilities she needed, she was short of breath, fatigued from the tips of her toes to the ends of her drenched hair, and trembling from being scared spitless.
Closing her eyes briefly, she sent up an awkward plea to heaven for the strength to make it back to the shuttle, at the same time regretting she hadn’t been more diligent with her prayers in the past. Gritting her teeth, Lana pushed off from the tree and limped forward, but in the dim light, must have turned the wrong way because she immediately slammed into a hard, unyielding object.
Her hands came up to steady herself, but instead of the bark of the tree trunk she expected, they met warm, smooth flesh. Terror washed over her, and she opened her mouth to scream, except with panic welling in her throat, nothing came out. She pushed away, stumbling backward, her mind shouting at her to run, but her body failed her, sluggish in its response.
The being she plowed into had no such problem. A band of steel encircled her waist, and she was pulled tight against a solid, inflexible frame. Making matters worse, the deep voice rumbling over her head, speaking in a strange tongue was definitely male.
Petrified, Lana willed herself to move, to struggle, to use her good leg to kick him where it would do damage, but her body wouldn’t cooperate, even her lungs seemed to have lost their ability to function. She wheezed, trying to drag air into her chest, but all she could do was stare, unblinking at the naked male chest inches away from her face.
He spoke more incomprehensible words. When she didn’t respond, he curved his hand around her jaw—thank God, it was a hand and not a claw or slimy tentacle—and tipped her face up, way up, since he eclipsed her five-foot-eight-inch frame by nearly two feet.
When their eyes met, despite the rapidly increasing darkness, she noticed his were an unusual bluish green, otherworldly but stunning all the same. They reminded her of aquamarines, not the typical light blue popular for gemstones, but the darker hue of the raw mineral stores she’d seen during a field expedition back in college. Never had she seen the color replicated, until now.
As she stared up at him, transfixed, his thumb moved, gliding over her cheek and along her lower lip. His touch sent a jolt of electricity arcing between them. Like a magnetic charge, it drew her to him, the intensity both startling and confusing at the same time.
His features were unexpectedly human. With his dark brows arched, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she recognized surprise in his expression. Was he as shocked as she was to find a creature so like himself? Or, had he felt the current passing between them?
He blinked, which drew her attention to his incredibly thick lashes. Then, as if that small movement brought him back from wherever his stunned brain had traveled, his astonishment changed to something else. Judging by the tilt of his head and the single quirked brow, she’d call it curiosity. He took a step back, the distance his long arms would allow without releasing her, and his gaze slid down her body. Slowly, he surveyed every inch, before his eyes skimmed back up to meet hers again.
His expression changed once more, an air of what she could only describe as joy encompassing his gorgeous features, and he smiled, not lewd or leering, but jubilant. He said something else, the low sound strangely melodic.
Lana stared, helplessly mute, not that it mattered. She assumed since she couldn’t understand him, he had the same problem.
When she didn’t respond, his dark brows furrowed. He shook his head, and the next thing she knew, he lifted her high in the air. When she came down, she lay draped over his shoulder.
Holy crap! He intended to carry her off to God knows where to do God knows what. The awful realization broke the immobilizing spell restraining her. She twisted and squirmed atop his tall frame, heedless of the distance she’d drop to the ground should she get free. Not to mention possibly ticking off the gorgeous, yet scary alien with her resistance.
Other than clamping his massive arm around her legs to contain her, he ignored her struggles as he started through the jungle, each long stride covering a lot of ground.
“Let me go!” she shrieked, pounding her fists against his back, but this elicited not so much as a flinch, and his steps didn’t slow.
When she raked her nails across his skin, it was a different story. His broad hand came down with a lusty smack on her skyward-pointed backside.
Lana jerked, not so much from pain, but from outrage. As a result, her wound slammed up against hard, unforgiving muscle. She cried out as waves of agony shot up to her hip and down toward her toes.
When they began to subside, settling into a dull, throbbing ache, she realized he’d shifted her off his shoulder and now held her cradled her in his arms. Through a haze of pain and tears, she saw his face hovering above her own, now tight with what she read as concern. His big hand stroked in a soft caress over her bottom and it dawned on her what he thought.
“It’s not my butt, you brute. Although, I should let you think it is,” she muttered, as she clamped her hand protectively over her wound. “It’s my leg, and it’s killing me, no thanks to your rough treatment.”
His head angled down, and his gaze homed in on her upper thigh. The next instant, he bent to set her on her back on the ground.
“Don’t,” she cried, though she knew she had zero chance of stopping him. She squinched her eyes shut, braced to withstand whatever disgusting slop he placed her in. When she felt nothing seeping through her clothes, she opened them again, and was shocked to see the moonlit sky overhead where before there had been only a dense canopy of trees. She glanced to the side. They were in a small clearing, not swampy at all, but with sparser trees and tall grass. How had she run for what seemed like miles and not found this?
At a tug on her leg and a loud r
ip, her head snapped around. He was tearing her flight suit away from her wound.
Lana sat up. “Stop it! I have nothing else to wear.”
He shot her a stern look and shook his head once. In that brief glance, she noticed his unusual eyes had changed, now more green than blue, and much darker. Still beautiful and mesmerizing, but also frightening because they drove home the fact that while he looked the part, he wasn’t human. She clamped her mouth shut; getting snippy with an unknown entity probably wasn’t the wisest or safest approach.
With her silence restored, he went back to work, ripping the entire right leg of her uniform free. He didn’t toss it aside as she expected but reversed it inside out and wrapped the clean side around her thigh for a bandage.
He nodded, as though satisfied with his makeshift first aid, before turning back to her. Once again, he caught her chin in his hand then he raised the other, forefinger extended and wagged it as he spoke. She frowned, having no idea what he meant by his gesture other than, no.
Making his hand into a claw, he pantomimed raking his nails across his chest. The wagging finger repeated, his meaning now clear—no scratching.
Raising her chin higher, he gazed steadily into her eyes, until she released her lip and nodded.
Seeming satisfied, he lifted her in his arms again, but instead of going over his shoulder in an ignominious captive position—although that’s what she was—he cradled her once more, as though she were a pampered child. And he was careful to put her injured thigh outward where it wouldn’t get bumped again.
Effortlessly, as though her one hundred forty pounds was nothing, he moved forward, dodging low limbs and downed trees. It had grown darker. Lana had to wonder how he could navigate around the many barriers in their path when she could barely see a hand in front of her face.
Minutes passed, she had no idea how many, far too frightened to think straight or mark the time.
She stiffened when she heard the hum of other male voices growing louder with every step her captor took. He murmured something in a low tone, as though to reassure her, and his arms tightened. The one beneath her thighs shifted higher, and his hand slid over her bottom and curled around her hip. He patted her there. The effect anything but comforting, although he likely intended for it to be.
Defying the General Page 2