by ML Guida
He checked his pulse. “No, I was too far away. He was whispering.” He lowered his hand. “He’s alive. Just passed out. I’ll find Tryker.”
“Thank you.”
He quickly left and went into the lab.
“Don’t worry, help is coming. Hang on, Damon.” Hera wiped him down. His sweat soaked the cloth. She strained to hear the slightest whisper from him, but so far he remained stubbornly silent. She put her hand on his chest, and thankfully, it rose up and down, but it was his beating heart that made her smile.
Not caring if the guard was watching, she kissed his chest, then gently pecked his lips. She inhaled Damon’s spicy breath but detected a foul smell, as if he’d eaten something rotten. It had to be one of those disgusting things. She twirled her fingers in his hair. “What are those things fixin’ to do to you now?”
Tryker and the security guard burst out of the lab.
“What happened?” Tryker demanded.
“He went into convulsions, then passed out.”
“Did you kiss him?”
Heat rolled over her cheeks. “Yes, if you must know.”
He frowned. “And he didn’t respond?”
“Tryker, I think something’s gone terribly wrong. He said those things were afraid. He had to fight to get the information out, as if the thing didn’t want us to know–didn’t want us to find its weakness.”
“But what were they afraid of?” Tryker asked eagerly. “Did he tell you?”
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t, but I’m afraid it’s going to kill him if he tries to tell us.”
“Then there’s a way to kill them!”
He hurried back into the lab to do whatever experiments he was doing on the foul creature. She didn’t care. All she cared about was Damon and finding a way to keep him alive before he sacrificed himself to save his people. Call her selfish, but she didn’t want him to die.
Tears sliding down her face, she kissed him softly on his lips, careful not to hurt him, then sat in her chair and held his hand. She squeezed it, hoping to send him reassurance and let him know, she wouldn’t leave him.
10
The fog in Damon’s brain subsided. He slowly realized he was lying on a soft bed instead of slumped over in a chair on the Excalibur. By the smell of antibiotics, and the sound of beeps and dings, he was in sickbay and safely off Zalara. The creatures couldn’t attack him. But it wasn’t over.
There was still one possessing him.
Misery twisted his insides tighter and tighter like a plake, squeezing his organs until his lungs clawed to get the tiniest bit of air. The merciless voice played on his worst fears, driving him mad.
Soon we’ll have the Orion and annihilate the rest of your species.
He wanted to curse and argue, but his mouth wouldn’t open, as if it was sewn shut. He lifted his arms and legs, but neither would move. A heavy, invisible force staked his body to the bed.
You will die.
For the first time, he was afraid the voice wasn’t lying. His skin was stretched and tight over his bones. There were enough knots in his gut for a metal chain. Sweat broke out of every pore as he strained to move anything, but all he could do was breathe–inhale and exhale.
You’re burning up from the inside.
Damon’s throat turned parched, as if he’d just swallowed a bunch of sand. His gut bubbled with acid, and his overheated muscles begged for a rub down.
Tryker! Damon screamed over and over again. But his lips were frozen, and only the hated, laughing voice could hear.
He was dying–helpless to stop it.
Nothing worked, as if his body was shutting down. Dizziness spun around him like a black hole. Water–he’d do anything for a cool sip.
You’ll die of thirst.
But then sweetness caressed his parched lips. Drops of moisture plopped onto his hot flesh. The darkness and despair dissipated, as if someone had parted the curtain, allowing the rain to douse the fire burning his soul. Someone with silky red hair and dark brown eyes.
The voice hissed.
Stay asleep, I command you.
The thing’s smugness had vanished. It seemed afraid.
The anguish pulsing through him melted away. Hope surged through him. He gritted his teeth, and drawing on his dragon power, he moved his pinky to the left. Not much, but enough to know he could break this spell.
Determination flooded through him. He was a member of the Royal Guard. He could do this. Just move, damn it, move.
Something wet and gentle caressed Damon’s cheek, sending soft tingles through him. The voice died to a whisper. The fog of agony clouding his brain lessened, and the fever within him diminished. Someone held his hand, squeezing it tight, as if they never wanted to let go. He inhaled the fragrant scent of flowers that had chased the nightmares away.
He fluttered open his eyes. Hera held his hand between hers, and tears splashed onto his skin.
“Hera,” he whispered.
“You’re awake.” She wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. “I was so worried.”
He forced his stiff fingers to move. “You brought…me back.” Strands of her hair had escaped from her ponytail, softly framing her pale face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and wetness darkened her eyelashes. She’d looked beautiful.
She looked at him with such sadness and fussed with fluffing his pillow. “What can I do to help you? Do you want me to get Tryker?”
“No,” he said. “His medicine doesn’t…help me. You do. Kiss me.”
She blinked her eyes. “What?”
“You heard me. Still weak…Kiss me, before it grows stronger again.”
She can’t help you.
Hera clutched his hand. “I don’t want to hurt you. Your lips are too swollen for kissing.”
Pain coiled around his stiff spine, and he gritted his teeth. “Hurt…me. Before it’s too late.”
She scanned the room as if she was worried about getting into trouble.
“Please.”He hated begging, but he knew the dreaded voice would grow stronger. He wasn’t sure he’d survive another round of torture. She had to kiss him.
She bent over, and her warm breath brushed over his tight skin, but it strangely cooled his feverish flesh. She pecked him quickly on the lips. Disappointment seized him. He was expecting a long sensuous kiss like they had enjoyed in his quarters. He wanted it, needed it. He frowned. “Hera, that’s not helping.”
She smiled. “I can do better.”
She tilted her head, and this time, she was more demanding. Despite the pain, he kissed her back and pushed open her lips with his tongue.
She pulled away. “Damon–”
“Don’t…stop,” he groaned.
She smiled nervously. “I won’t.” She tentatively pressed her lips against his, but this time, when he forced her tight mouth open, she didn’t pull away.
As his kiss deepened, the pain inside him lessened. He could breathe without wincing, and his pounding heart returned to normal. He wanted more from her, wanted to take everything she possessed, wanted her to heal his broken body.
She didn’t disappoint him and became bolder with her kiss. She ran her hands through his hair, the tips of her fingernails massaging his scalp, and immediately, tingles doused his hot trembling body. She was rain to his fire, but he needed more, so much more.
Sickbay wasn’t the place for her to heal him. A kiss wouldn’t be enough. He hungered for naked flesh against naked flesh.
He was desperate to get her to his quarters where she could pleasure him. And he could do the same for her. He had to know if this slip of a woman had the power to heal or if it was his wishful imagination. He sighed heavily. This could be wishful thinking, but he had to know.
“Hera.” He panted. “We…need to go…to my quarters.”
She frowned. “What? Why? Damon, you need to stay here. You’re badly injured.”
“You can heal me.”
She sat on the edge of his bed, careful not to brush a
gainst him, as if she were afraid she’d cause him pain. “I don’t have any super powers,” she said glumly.
He rubbed her stiff arm with his shaking hand. “Yes, you do. I believe in you. You have power over the thing inside me. When we kiss, the pain lessens.”
She gave him a hard look. “You’re betting on the wrong horse, delusional boy.”
“No, I’m not…call Tryker.”
She sighed and sat on the chair, avoiding his gaze.
“Please,” he whispered. He’d try to talk louder, but this was all he could muster.
“I still think you’re making a big mistake.” She stood, shook her head, but then walked slowly over to the lab. “Tryker.”
No one answered.
“Tryker!” she called, louder.
The door slid open. Tryker hurried out of the lab. “What is it? What’s happening?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Damon wants to be moved to his quarters.”
He frowned. “He’s too broken to move.”
“He thinks I can heal him better than you can.”
His frown slowly edged away, replaced by a curiosity that made Hera blush ten different ways. If Damon hadn’t been in so much pain, he’d likely have laughed.
Tryker walked over to his bed and glanced up at the medical board. “Are you sure, Damon? You’re still very weak.”
“Yes. I know what I’m doing,” he gasped.
Tryker and Hera looked at each other dubiously. Obviously, neither thought his plan was a good one.
“Tryker, listen to me. When she kissed me briefly, I…felt the pain lessen.” A burst of bubbling agony gripped him, and he grabbed the sheets, his knuckles turning white.
“Great balls of fire, Damon, the pain indicator shot off like a rocket.”
He panted. “I know. It’s scared…Afraid. I found a…weakness. Please, don’t…fight me.”
Tryker picked up his medical transrecorder. “There’s been a slight change on your burns. They’ve healed, but it’s not significant.”
“Need more time,” Damon urged.
“You’re not understanding.” Tryker put the transrecorder down on a nearby table. “We’ve been running tests on the creature. And nothing is having an effect.”
We’re in immortal. Prepare to die.
Despite the voice’s overconfidence, he knew it was scared and that it must have a weakness. “Trust me,” Damon gasped. “It’s worried. Otherwise, the pain wouldn’t be so…violent.” He grimaced as another fire-bolt of misery shocked him.
Tryker looked between him and Hera. A string of emotions crossed his face, as if he mentally calculated the odds of Damon’s plan. “I’ll make the arrangements,” he said slowly.
Hera leaned against the wall. “I think you’re crazy.”
You’re a fool. She can’t help you. She’s nothing but a puny human.
A few minutes later, Tryker and two orderlies came in with a wheelchair and carefully lifted him into it.
Tryker wheeled Damon out of sickbay with Hera walking alongside them. “Hera, if it becomes too much for him–”
Her cheeks flamed red. “I know. I know. I’ll call.”
In Damon’s quarters, Tryker helped him ease onto the bed.
He motioned to the chair. “I’ll leave this here in case you it. If you’ll excuse me–”
After he left, Hera folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “Now, what?”
She was so natural and free. Cosima always had herself made up, never a hair out of place and always the prim and proper queen. He always had to be the stern soldier, which was tiring. Not with Hera. He could be himself. “I need you.”
She dropped her arms. “Damon, it’s very hard for me to get used to everyone knowing what we’re going to do.”
Maybe he’d been wrong. He frowned. “Do humans not like sex?”
“Great horny toads, I didn’t say that. I just don’t like advertising it–especially since I’m the only woman on board the Orion.”
He stiffened. “No one on board would ever hurt you.”
She gave him a dubious look.
“Has anyone done anything to you?” he asked softly.
She shoved a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. “No.”
“I would never let anyone hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my mate.”
Fool, I told you she can’t help you. It’s useless. The voice was actually trembling, despite its scorn.
She rolled her eyes. “You keep saying that, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She gestured toward him. “You’re in love with another woman. That doesn’t exactly make me all warm gooey inside.”
“I know. I thought I was in love with her. She was everything I ever wanted–until I met you.” His back went into spasms, and he sucked in his breath. “Now…I don’t know how I feel. She’s my…queen.”
“Damon, I’m not asking you to give up your love for her. If I help you, will you return me to Earth? I can’t live in another woman’s shadow.” She hung her head. “It would kill me.”
Her voice was so small that he wished there was another way to heal him, but he knew there wasn’t. He didn’t want to promise her something he couldn’t keep. She deserved better. She wasn’t going back to Earth, but he wasn’t ready to tell her. Not yet. He didn’t have the strength to fight that battle.
“Hera…I don’t know how much longer I can manage…the pain. Please.”
She bit her lip and walked over to the bed. “So, what do you want to do?”
He lifted his arm. “Take my hand.”
She clasped his with her shaking one. “I’m just so nervous.”
He caressed her hand with his thumb. “Hera, if you haven’t guessed, I’m attracted to you. The first time I saw you in that bar, you caught my eye. You served drinks with a flare, but when you stood up to Desmond, I knew I wanted you.”
“Thank you, but it doesn’t change things. Men always want sex. That doesn’t mean they give two-cents about the woman.”
“You’re bitter?”
“Let’s just say I’ve known some men who made Pinocchio look like he always told the truth.”
He pulled her closer. “I don’t understand.”
She moistened her lips. “Never mind.”
“I do care about you,” he said softly.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Uh-uh, sure you do.”
“I do.” He wanted her to believe him. He stared at her pouty lips. “Kiss me.”
She slipped her hand around his neck and edged closer. “Exchange of body fluids? According to your medical officer?”
“Yeah, body fluids.” Her warmth excited him. She was offering her body to help him, even though he was in love with the queen. Or at least he thought he was. When he was around Hera, he always forgot about Cosima. Hera surprised him at every turn. She was sexy as hell.
She closed her eyes and parted her sweet lips. He indulged in taking what she had to offer. The heat was all focused inward, and the minute he tasted her, the throbbing pain lessened, and the voice hissed.
Sex isn’t going to free you. Only taking the ship will stop the agony.
Damon ignored the hateful voice and concentrated on Hera’s sweet kiss. She was his mate, and according to the Fates, once bonded, the power between mates was one of the strongest forces on Zalara. He’d never believed in the prophecy, but tonight, he intended to find out if the rumor was true.
11
Hera should be protesting sleeping with a man who was in love with another woman, but the sad truth was she desired him. Their attraction was growing stronger, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall hopelessly in love with him and be miserable. Maybe if she indulged in this one time, he’d heal, then set her free. If she didn’t, he’d be in misery and could even die. That she couldn’t let happen. Especially if she possessed the power to heal him.
Damon pulled her down onto the bed. Even wounded and beaten, he manipulate
d his hands, his lips, and his tongue to awaken her desire. He devoured her mouth, leaving her dazed, chasing away her doubts.
She took the lead and gently rolled on top of him, almost laughing at his surprised look. She plundered her lips down the length of his bruised throat, discovering every sensitive spot. His salty skin was something she’d never tasted before–not like a man’s skin–but delicious, exhilarating, and stimulating. The same fluttering power stirred inside her. It pushed harder and harder and harder against her ribs as if it wanted to be unleashed.
Suddenly, he groaned.
She immediately stopped. What was she thinking? He was hurt, and all she could think about was satisfying her own desire. She stared into his hooded eyes. “I’m so sorry. Am I hurting you? Should I get off you?”
“No, I want you right here,” he whispered coarsely. “Don’t stop.”
Before she could answer, he slid his hands up the back of her shirt and unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts. His growing erection pushed against her jeans.
She gasped. “Damon.”
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, turning them to hard buds.
Desire reflected in his eyes. “I want to see you.”
Her boldness lessened at his command, and she hesitated.
“Please,” he begged.
He’d done so much for his people, risking his life. He’d protected her in the bar twice––once inside and the next outside. This was even before he knew her. She couldn’t deny him.
She slowly pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it onto the floor, followed by her bra.
Dropping his hands, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.”
Cold rushed over her where his hands had kept her warm, and she shivered.
His heated gaze mesmerized her. He put his hands on her belly, and she sucked in her breath, then he cupped and squeezed her breasts. She was breathing hard, wanting him to do more, but was too afraid to ask.
As if knowing what she wanted, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. He shifted his body to a different position and hissed.
“Damon, you’re hurting yourself.”