Alien Mate

by Cara Bristol

  “We must notify Enoki and warn the others.” Torg’s face hardened like a Dakonian ready to kick some ass. If not for the dressing and the blood smeared on his bare torso, you wouldn’t have realized he’d been severely injured.

  “Perhaps this was an act, not of malice, but of poor judgment—someone unwisely placing a hunting trap,” Groman suggested.

  The man might know about healing, but he needed to wise up.

  “No.” Torg shook his head.

  “No,” Loka agreed. “Multiple traps were set to release when the person entered the huts.”

  “The perpetrator intended to inflict great harm,” Torg said. “I’m sure your search was thorough, Loka, but in the light of day, we should repeat it to ensure all the traps have been found. We need more sweepers.”

  That’s why my mate was a tribal chief. Even injured, he knew what to do and how to take charge. And he knew a little something about people.

  “My camp is the closest to the meeting place, a quarter tripta away,” Loka offered. “Tessa and I will go back tonight. I’ll talk to my chief, and we can return in the morning with additional helpers.”

  The closest camp, huh? Icha crept back into suspicion. She lived in Loka’s camp. She could have sneaked out and booby-trapped the meeting place. My camp had been aware I planned to meet my friends from the ship. Everyone in Tessa’s camp probably knew the same about her. So Icha would have known I would be here today. “How is Icha with a bow and arrow?” I asked.

  “I see where you’re going with this.” Torg shook his head “Icha may be hotheaded and vengeful, but she is not a cold-blooded killer.”

  Hotheaded and vengeful sounded like motivation for killing to me! “She poisoned me.”

  “She made you sick. She didn’t try to kill you.”

  “Maybe she tried but failed.”

  “I don’t believe that, Starr. I would stake my life on it.”

  “You already have—and it almost killed you.”

  Torg held up his good hand. “Without more information, we can’t settle this, and it’s getting late. Let’s deal with this in the morning.”

  The lines of pain bracketing his mouth halted my protest. He needed to regain his strength and begin healing. We couldn’t solve the problem tonight. In that, he was correct.

  “Good idea,” Groman said. “Remember, I’ll be in the other hut.” He looked at Loka. “You checked them, right?”

  “I did. They’re clear,” he answered.

  “If you need anything, come get me,” Groman told me. “If he requires another pain draught, the powder is there. Mix a scoop with some water.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Torg said.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” I promised.

  “Tessa and I will leave now, too.” Loka still had a hike ahead of him, albeit a shorter trek than Torg and I would have had.

  The four of them donned their kels, and I hugged Andrea. “We’re the next hut over if you need help,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  Tessa and I embraced. “Be safe!” I worried about her tromping around in the snow. At least she didn’t have far to go.

  “You, too!” she replied, hugging me hard. “Stay in the hut, and you’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  As they filed out, the fear that lurked in the background rushed to the forefront. Torg had almost been killed! I was defenseless on a primitive planet inhabited by dangerous people, present company excepted. The supplies Andrea and I had ordered couldn’t arrive fast enough to suit me.

  I turned toward Torg and pasted on a smile.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Torg

  She tried to hide her fear, but my mate’s smile wobbled. I held out my good arm. “Come here.”

  She moved to my bedside and gave me a loose hug. I tried to pull her onto the bed so I could comfort her properly, but she resisted. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “I’m fine.” It wasn’t a complete lie. The agony in my shoulder had subsided to a dull throb. Whatever had been in the vile-tasting concoction Groman had forced on me had done the trick.

  “You may not be in pain, but you’re not fine. You’re injured. You have to allow yourself time to heal.” She pulled away. But she looked as forlorn as she was stubborn.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. Dinner wouldn’t be grand, but the emergency huts were stocked with survival rations. We Dakonians were prepared—although we hadn’t been ready for this little scenario. I couldn’t imagine who could have set the trap or why. If I hadn’t heard the whoosh…my blood ran cold. Starr would have been injured—or killed. I pushed the horrible thought from my mind. I’d go crazy obsessing about it. She was safe now. Morning would be soon enough to resume worrying.

  “There should be some smoked kel.” I pointed to some jars on a table against the wall.

  Her stomach growled, and she smiled sheepishly. “I am a little hungry. I didn’t realize we had food here.” She tossed a log onto the fire then moved to the table, removed a jar lid, and sniffed. “Yep! Smoked kel.”

  She took out two large pieces and handed me one.

  I patted the bed beside me.

  She hesitated then scooted into place. Awareness of her nearness pulsated within me, and my cock stirred. Many hours had passed since our last coupling, but I had a hunch it would take coaxing to override her unneeded caution.

  I took a bite of the smoked kel, and she did the same.

  “Everything went well getting the communication system up and running?” I asked.

  “Not a single glitch. Andrea and I added supplies to the next ship.”

  “What kind of supplies?”

  “Medical equipment for one. And ground vehicles, power packs, weapons…” Her face tightened, and I could tell she was recalling what had happened this evening.

  I covered her hand. “We will find out who’s responsible. It won’t happen again. I promise you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not about that—although now I have another reason for wanting Terran weapons.” Starr sighed. “Andrea, Tessa, and I were talking about the future. This whole illuvian-ore-for-mates arrangement sounds good now, but what happens when you have enough women?”

  “We’ll stop asking for them.”

  “I guessed that would be the reaction. Your needs may be filled, but Terra’s appetite will grow. The existing treaty will whet their hunger for illuvian ore. They’ll want more and more. They won’t give it up. Will you let them take it for nothing?”

  “Starr, it’s worthless to us. They can have it. It’s a bunch of rocks.”

  She slid out the bed, poured water from a large earthen jug into a smaller one, and placed it on the coals in the fire pit.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Heating some water for washing.” She moved away from the fire and paced, swinging her arms. “Those rocks are as important to Terra as females are to Dakon. More so because your need for women is finite. Earth’s energy requirement is infinite. You have to be ready in case the situation gets ugly. I’m not saying it will, but the possibility exists. My people have been through this before, and it didn’t end well. We decimated entire civilizations to acquire a shiny metal not good for anything except decoration. Illuvian ore can power spaceships and light cities. If you had harnessed its energy, you wouldn’t be in the Stone Age anymore.”

  “But we don’t have the means to harness it.” The ore was valuable only if we could process it. Limited by wood bone, and stone tools, we didn’t even have the ability to mine large quantities or put it to use if we had large quantities.

  “My people are friendly and benign now, but you shouldn’t be naïve.” She punched the air with her small fist. “You have to shore up your defenses. At present, I think you have an advantage. The Terrans have superior weapons, but they have to travel a great distance to get here. Before they can invade to get more ore, they have to get more ore—which they don’t have yet. Plus, you have climate on yo
ur side. You’ve learned how to deal with the severe cold; they haven’t. At the first sign of aggression, if you strike with a big show of force, they’ll think twice.”

  Starr knew her people better than we did, and her vehemence made me think. What kind of people were the Terrans? The initial emissaries had been friendly and accommodating. The females were everything we’d hoped for—and more. I couldn’t imagine a better mate than Starr. Her concern for our welfare confirmed her commitment to me and Dakon, not that I’d had any worries on that score.

  Her warnings shouldn’t be ignored. “I’ll inform Enoki of your concerns.”

  “Thank you. That makes me feel better.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’m not saying Terra would invade, only that you should stay alert. Don’t take what they say at face value.”

  She removed the jug from the fire and tested the temperature. “Perfect.”

  “You’re going to bathe?” I settled back, eager to watch. I never tired of looking at her. My horns and cock pulsed in anticipation.

  She poured some water into a bowl and dampened one of the kel pads. “I’m going to wash you.”

  “Me?” I glanced down. Blood stained my torso. I grimaced. “I can wash myself. Give that to me.”

  “No, I’ll do it.” She ignored my outstretched hand and dabbed at my chest.

  In the mineral pools, Starr and I bathed each other as a prelude to coupling, not because the other couldn’t perform self-hygiene. I was no invalid. Would she spoon gruel into my mouth next? She would not respect me, would not see me as her protector if she had to play nursemaid. “I’m capable of doing that.”

  She ignored my protest, rinsed out the pad in the water, and resumed cleaning me. How humiliating.

  I grabbed her wrist. “I will wash myself.”

  “I need to touch you, okay?” She glowered, but tears glinted in her eyes. “I almost lost you! Don’t you realize how awful that would be?”

  “I do know.” I’d felt the same about her. I caressed the inside of her wrist with my thumb. I needed to touch her, too, and not in a casual way. I needed to be inside her, to hold her so tight and so close that nothing could slip between us, not even fear. “Why do you think I pushed you out of the way? I heard the bow release.” Reflex and instinct had propelled me into action, but with remembrance, my blood chilled anew at how close I’d come to losing her.

  It would take more than a shot from an arrow to kill me. But my Starr was tiny, delicate, fragile.

  To soothe her, I would allow her to wash me. “You may continue, then.” It came out sounding more imperious than I had intended.

  Her mouth quirked. “Oh I can, can I?” She swiped gently at my chest. I’d succeeded in bringing a smile to her face, and that gladdened my heart.

  “Why do you think the trap was set?” she asked quietly. “Was it a random attack, or was someone targeted?”

  “I was the target.” It was the only scenario that made sense.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve implemented unpopular decisions. Many people are angry with me.”

  “Over Icha.”

  “She’s one reason, but also others objected to Armax’s exile. Winning a chit generated a lot of resentment. Many assumed I’d used my influence as tribal chief to get one. Some men are jealous that I received a mate, while others opposed the exchange.”

  “If they targeted you, why set so many traps?”

  “They couldn’t be certain which hut I would enter.”

  She scrubbed at my skin with the rag, her touch no longer gentle. “So why set the traps at all. Why not hide in the woods and shoot you from there?”

  I’d wondered that myself. “If he shot me directly, he stood a greater chance of being captured. Someone might have recognized him. Loka or Gorman would have chased after him.”

  “It’s scary to imagine someone from our camp doing that.” Her chest heaved with agitation, her nipples tenting her tunic. She sought a serious discussion, but I couldn’t help but stare at her breasts as they moved beneath her clothing. Her womanly, exotic scent wafted up to tease my senses. Terrans and Dakonians smelled different. I could pick out my Starr from scent alone.

  “That’s only one possibility. The council of chiefs has five regular members, elected by the tribes. A sixth position is shared by the other tribal chiefs. As head of my tribe, I rotate with the others to share that seat. I’m outspoken, and I’ve convinced the chief to take some unpopular steps. I sat on the council when it decided to enter the treaty with Terra. I suggested the lottery—and won a chit.

  “Some members of the other tribes claimed the selection process was rigged. Others opposed it altogether. I’ve made some enemies.”

  “If you made enemies as a rotating council member, imagine how many Enoki has as the head of the council! Maybe he was the target.”

  “Enoki wasn’t supposed to be at the meeting place today. I was.”

  “So were Groman and Loka! How could the perpetrator count on you being the one shot? It could have been any of us, or somebody else who happened to come today.” She dropped the kel pad into the bowl of reddish-brown water and moved out of reach. “Maybe Groman’s healing skills failed to save someone. Or Loka pissed somebody off.” She paced.

  “Those are possibilities, but I don’t think so. Loka is very well-liked, and Groman is a gifted healer whose skills are in demand. People understand he can’t cure everyone.”

  She asked good questions. Her reasoning couldn’t be faulted, but answers couldn’t be found tonight, and certainly not when other pressing needs had arisen. Heated discourse offered cold comfort.

  I beckoned and shifted on the bed. “Um…could you help me…”

  “What is it?” She flew to my side.

  My ruse triggered some guilt but not enough to deter me. I closed my hand around her wrist and tugged. “Join me in bed.” I flashed the beguiling smile that had softened her before.

  “Are you crazy? You’ll hurt yourself.” She twisted her wrist, but I hung on.

  “Then don’t fight me.” A hard yank, and she pitched across my lap. In a flash, I rolled her under me, ignoring the sharp twinges in my shoulder. I swooped in, but she averted her face, and my kiss fell on her ear. I teased the outer edges with my breath, and she shivered. My mate only pretended to be unmoved. I kissed her neck and heard the little moan she tried to stifle.

  “You’ll start bleeding again, and you’ll have nobody to blame but yourself.”

  “Of course.”

  “The healer will demand an explanation.”

  Coupling came as naturally as eating or sleeping, and everyone who had a mate did it—a major reason why they desired one, but calling attention to our intimacies embarrassed Starr. “I will tell him to mind his own business.” I used one of her idioms. Terrans had a colorful way of expressing themselves.

  Arousal bloomed in her cheeks, and her thigh curled around mine, but she butted her head against my uninjured shoulder. “No, Torg. I mean it.” She probably thought she’d looked fierce, but she had no idea how cute her little scowl was. She could glower at me all day, and it would only make me hard for her.

  “Then we’ll do it this way.” I slid my good arm under her and rolled so that I lay on my back, and she straddled me. “You can do all the work,” I said, but I lifted my hips to rub my erection against her womanhood. Through two layers of clothing—hers and mine—the heat of her sex warmed my cock.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “You’re wearing too many clothes. Take this off.” I tugged on her tunic and her leggings.

  She sighed. Not the response I’d hoped for, but with a little persuasion maybe I could turn resignation into enthusiasm. I had to feel her against me, skin to skin, to imprint her touch, her taste, her smell. I had to reaffirm in a physical way that we were alive. One of us could have died today. I could not face the tragedy of losing my mate so soon after finding her.

  Starr started to roll off me, but I grabbed her. “No, st
ay here.”

  She huffed. “Let me up so I can undress.”

  I couldn’t argue with the logic, but I didn’t trust her intentions. “All right.” Reluctantly, I let her go.

  She slid off the bed and smoothed her palms down her hips before waving a hand at the bed. “This isn’t such a good idea…”

  I knew it!

  I rose up onto my good elbow. “Do you want me to jump out of bed and chase you, me being injured and all? Because I’ll do it.”

  “That’s—that’s…not fair! That’s like emotional…blackmail!”

  “What’s that saying you taught me? All’s fair in love and war?” I flung off the kel blanket.

  “Stop—all right.” She flashed that cute little scowl and pulled her tunic over her head then wiggled out of her leggings. Luscious berry-tipped breasts bounced as she undressed.

  I toed off my boots, but removing my own leggings—grown tighter by my erection—proved difficult with one hand.

  “Let me help you,” she said, not at all graciously, and tugged off my pants. My cock, hard and ready, sprang out, happy to be free, happy to meet her. Her breasts swayed, and I cupped one with my free hand, enjoying its hefty weight and how the beaded nipple poked my palm.

  Two hands were better than one. I started to remove my arm from the sling I didn’t need, but Starr stopped me. “No. You leave the sling on. If you want this”—she drew invisible circles around her body—“then you leave the sling on!”

  I could live with those conditions. I stifled a victorious grin. “Kiss me.”

  Starr crawled onto the bed and pressed her lips to mine. We kissed tentatively at first, but then our tongues met in a frantic dance that betrayed our mutual fears. Her hair draped around my face, and her heart thudded against my chest. Starr nipped at my lip. “Don’t scare me like that anymore,” she murmured.

  “No.”

  I tasted her, filling my senses with the essence of my very own Starr. Like the lights in the sky, she burned hot and bright for me. My irreplaceable mate.

  At my nudging, she scooted upward. I captured a nipple in my mouth. She moaned and clamped her legs around one of mine, pressing her womanhood against my thigh, coating my skin with the wetness of her desire. My Starr might protest, but she wanted me, too—and her objection originated from concern. How could I lose?