by Presley Hall
The flight is exciting, more so than anything I’ve gotten to do in a while, requiring more skill and precision than usual. I can’t help but show off a little, although I’d never admit that’s what I’m doing. It feels good to be so in control of something again, to do something that I know I’m good at, after so many years spent feeling adrift as I watched the flame of rebellion die on Vox. And at the same time, as I dip and weave between the trees, treating it more like an obstacle course than a flyover, I know I’m enjoying the thought of scaring Felicity a little, getting under her skin. Every quick indrawn breath and nervous gasp feels like I’m undoing her, pushing her buttons, and I enjoy it more than I should.
It’s unlike me. I’ve never been someone to prick and tease at others, to try to provoke a reaction just because I can, and I push the urge away as quickly as it came. I level the ship out above the trees again, carefully maintaining an even speed until we reach the base of the mountain that’s our destination. The sun is beginning to set, and I find a landing spot that’s as even as possible, setting the ship down in a clearing of trees that should help shelter it at least somewhat from anyone who might see it in passing.
We disembark to make camp, and Droth calls a meeting to determine who will be going up the mountain.
The mission won’t be without danger. The mountain itself will be difficult to scale, with snow near the top and plenty of wild animals and lethal plants sure to be found along the way, and once the tower is reached, the surveillance systems will have to be disabled somehow. Droth asks for volunteers, scanning the gathered crowd with his hands clasped behind his back.
“I’ll go,” I say quickly, straightening my spine and lifting my chin.
Droth nods, accepting my offer. I’m sure he expected it, in truth. I’ve always been one of the first to volunteer for dangerous missions, and that hasn’t changed. If anything, I’m more determined than ever to lead the charge when it’s most risky, to make up for the fact that for the last five years, I haven’t been here. I was back on Vox, while my fellow warriors suffered on Nuthora.
I wasn’t there when they were captured. But I’m here now. And I’m determined to fight by their side every step of the way.
“Who else will volunteer?” Droth asks, looking over the assembled group.
And then, to my shock, I hear a voice that I never expected to speak up.
Felicity pushes her way to the front, glancing at me defiantly before looking at Droth.
“I’ll go too.”
7
Felicity
“I’ll go.”
There’s absolute silence for a moment after I say those words. And then, before Droth can speak, Ren’s voice cuts through the air, flat and final.
“No.”
Just the sound of it grates at me, and irritation rises up sharply in my chest.
Of course he doesn’t want me along.
I’m sure he thinks I’m weak, or incapable, or some other misogynistic bullshit. I’d have thought these super advanced aliens would be past all that, but clearly at least one of them isn’t, or he’d be willing to treat me like anyone else here and let me help.
I glance at him briefly and then look at Droth as well as the others assembled around him. “If you hadn’t offered us shelter and a place to live, there’s a good chance this rescue mission would be only for the Voxeran warriors. But since we’re a part of your community now, Ren is taking on the responsibility of saving us as well as his own people. Since we Terrans are included in the rescue effort, it only makes sense that we should be part of the mission to make it possible. Besides,” I add, casting another glance at Ren, “we ought to be good for something besides just a last option for the Voxeran men.”
There’s a low whisper among those gathered around us at that. Part of me hoped Ren would have the grace to look a little ashamed when I threw his words back at him, but he doesn’t even flinch. So I keep my attention focused on Droth. He’s the one I most have to convince, after all, but I’m making my case to everyone… Ren included.
Even if he is a stubborn asshole.
“I’ve got an entirely different skill set and way of looking at the situation than the warriors do,” I point out. “I’m smaller than the men and more nimble. I could be an asset to the team.”
Droth considers for a beat, then nods. “I’ve seen the bravery of the Terran women many times now,” he says with a smile. “You’ve all proved yourselves to be more than capable. I agree that you would be an asset, Felicity. Ren will be the leader of this endeavor, so if he agrees, you can join the team on their mission.”
My gaze flits back to the stoic warrior with the scarred face. I can see his hesitation, his jaw working as he mulls over his answer. He’s probably torn between the desire to deny me something I want and his overwhelming need to obey and please his prince in all things. It’s almost fun, watching him squirm a little as he tries to decide how to respond.
And in the end, he reluctantly nods as well.
“She can come along,” he relents, but he’s clearly not happy about it.
I don’t care. As long as I’m able to go and be useful. I need to do something besides just sitting in camp and fuming about this infuriatingly stubborn alien.
A few more volunteers are added until we have a team of six. As the meeting breaks up, I head away from the group, wanting a minute to clear my head before I need to help the other unmated women make camp and gather up what we’ll need to make dinner over the fire the men will build. I stride out into the shadows, but I only have a moment’s peace before I hear heavy footsteps behind me and turn around to see Ren striding toward me.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Why in the name of all the gods did you insist on that?” His voice sounds angry and gruff, deep and almost growling.
So, not much different from usual, I think dryly as I cross my arms and face him.
“You should learn not to underestimate me,” I shoot back. “Or any of the other human women, for that matter. Maybe ask some of your fellow warriors what their mates have done. Most of us have proved ourselves in one way or another since we arrived on this godforsaken planet. I want my chance to do that too.”
“All you’re proving is that you’re foolish and reckless.” Ren takes a step closer to me, the shadows gathering around him as he draws near. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, his blue skin turning faintly luminous in the evening gloom as the markings on his arms and chest begin to glow. “There’s no need for you to come. The warriors are capable of handling this mission. You’re just trying to prove a point, and you’ll put others in danger when you inevitably need rescuing.”
“I won’t need rescuing,” I bite out. “And if I do… well, any of you could need help, too. You think we’re weak just because we’re different, because you don’t know anything about us. But we Terran women are strong. Tough. We’ve survived on an alien planet after crash-landing. How many species do you think could manage that?”
“Quite a few, actually,” Ren retorts, his jade eyes narrowing. “And you survived because of Droth and his men. Because they helped you and gave you shelter in their village. Droth told me all about it.”
“We were doing pretty well even before Charlotte brought him back to the wreck,” I snap, even though I already admitted back at the meeting that there’s a good chance we wouldn’t have survived without the Voxerans’ aid. But something about Ren’s stubborn demeanor makes me want to push back against his assertion.
I want to take a step away from him, to put some space between myself and all of his hard, looming… maleness.
It’s hard to explain the effect he has on me. He’s no more physically imposing than any of the other Voxeran warriors. That is to say, he’s huge and muscular and formidable, but no more so than the other aliens I’ve been around for some time now.
Still, there’s something different about him, a commanding arrogance that I find infuriating.
It makes my skin h
eat, my body feeling flushed and warm in a way I’ve never experienced before—probably because I’ve never met anyone who irritates me so damn much.
But I refuse to step back, even when Ren moves a little closer, glaring down at me with those cat-like green eyes. Stepping back would feel like stepping down, like admitting that having him in my space like this makes me uncomfortable.
That’s not quite the word for it either, though. It’s not discomfort. It’s—something else. A feeling I can’t describe.
It’s the feeling of wanting to slap that arrogant smirk off of his face, I tell myself. That’s what you’re feeling.
“You would have died out in that wilderness if not for Droth,” Ren says with absolute conviction, glaring down at me. “You owe your lives to the Voxerans.”
“No, we wouldn’t have!”
“So what, is that what you’re trying to prove now? That you can survive out in the alien wilds? Little Terran, I’m not risking my men just because you want to play at being a warrior.”
“That’s not what this is about, you asshole! I’m not playing at anything.” I glare up at him, my hands on my hips. “If I really owe my life to your people, then you ought to be happy to have me paying that debt back by helping you!”
“We don’t need your help. You’ll only be a burden.”
Ren growls those last words, his eyes burning into mine, and his voice rises up into the air, sending a flurry of alien birds scattering into the evening skies. A strange buzzing sensation races over my skin at the sound, as if his voice is electrifying me, sending tingles throughout my body that feel wholly unfamiliar and all too good.
That heat that I felt before, the heat of anger, of frustration, turns into something different. A pulsing, aching warmth runs through my veins and floods my body, and I can feel a slick heat between my legs, as if there’s arousal growing there, making me throb with a need that I’ve never felt before. Or at least, never this intensely.
Ren tenses, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in, and I realize to my horror that he can smell me.
Whatever is happening to my body, whatever stupid reaction I’m having to arguing with this infuriating, frustrating, arrogant, gorgeous man, he can pick up the scent of it. It sends a flush of embarrassment through me, but even that isn’t enough to stop the spreading desire.
I liked the fighting better.
An argument is something I understand. God knows I’ve had enough of them in my life—with the parents I couldn’t stop disappointing, the friends I bailed on after I gambled away all my money, the coworkers who had to cover for me when I missed shifts at work.
But this? This aching desire, as if I’m suddenly dying to be held, touched, filled?
I don’t fucking understand it at all.
Ren reaches out, his hand drifting toward my arm as if pulled there by a magnet, and my reaction is instantaneous. Before his fingers can brush down my forearm, I slap his hand away with mine, skin to skin for the first time since he caught me out in the woods.
He jerks back as if I slapped him in the face.
The white markings that swirl over his skin begin to glow, emitting a faint blue light. And then, with a growl that sounds almost hungry, he grabs my upper arms and hauls me against his body.
I should fight it.
But I can’t.
His touch is electric, and when his mouth crashes down on mine, it sets an inferno ablaze in my veins, started by that single spark of my hand against his. His body is hard against mine, his mouth is hard against mine, and his cock—
Oh god.
As his lips pry mine apart, his tongue plunging into my mouth and conquering it with the same cocky assurance that he displayed in our argument, it registers with me just how hard he is everywhere.
Not just his muscular body, but the thick ridge that’s pressing against my stomach through his heavy loincloth.
Ren growls against my lips again, one hand leaving my arm to plunge into my thick blonde hair, gripping the back of my skull as he plunders my mouth. His other hand runs down my side, feeling the curve of my waist and trailing back up to my breast, where my nipple is hard and stiff and practically tearing through the thin leather of my top.
I can’t stop myself from responding.
My hands are against his chest as if to push him away, but that’s the exact opposite of what I’m doing. They’re curling into his skin, my nail digging lightly into his smooth flesh as if I’m trying to pull him closer to me.
Because that’s what my body wants. What it craves. Him against me, as close as he can possibly get.
The sounds spilling from my lips aren’t anything I’ve ever heard from myself before. I sound almost like a wild animal, gasping and whimpering and making little noises in the back of my throat.
“Slanch,” Ren moans, his voice ragged and hoarse as he pulls back from the kiss for a second.
His tongue runs over my lower lip, tasting me, as his hand leaves my breast and slides down to the curve of my ass. He pulls me hard against him, his hips grinding into mine, and I’m one second away from begging him to push me up against the nearest tree and just take me however he’d like.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me.
All I know is that I don’t want him to stop.
8
Ren
By all the gods, she feels so slanching good in my arms.
I’ve had women in the past, but nothing can compare to the way Felicity feels against me. Her lush curves, her sweet scent, the softness of her skin and hair and mouth.
She’s the opposite of me in every way, physically. Soft where I’m hard. Yielding where my body burns with the urge to claim, to conquer, to possess her entirely. Far back in my mind, someplace where logic still has roots, I can hear myself questioning why I’m doing this, why I’m kissing this woman with a hunger that defies reason when in fact I’m furious with her.
It feels like I’m out of my own body, watching myself as my hands rove over her frame, clutching and squeezing and pulling her against me, reveling in the feel of her. She smells and tastes so good. The scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, telling me that she’s every bit as overcome with desire as I am.
I feel drawn to her, pulled toward her by something deep within me, and I can’t seem to sate the hunger burning inside me.
It rages on, no matter how long or hard I kiss her, no matter how fiercely I wrap her long sunlight hair around my hand and hold her mouth to mine, no matter how eagerly I run my hands over her body.
The fire between us, the one that started with our argument and was sparked into a blaze by the slap of her hand against mine, rages higher and higher. It defies all sense, all logic—but I’m beyond those things now. Five years of pent-up lust are coming alive all at once, my former apathy toward the idea of taking a woman washed away in an instant by the soft, sweet body of the female in my arms now.
She lets out a soft whimper against my lips, and something about that plaintive sound snaps me out of my daze. I release her and jerk my head back, stepping away as if she’s burned me.
In the same moment that I put some space between us, Felicity seems to come back to herself too. She’s flushed and panting, and she drops her arms to her sides as we stare at each other, neither of us able to look away.
I wait for her to say something, to acknowledge what just happened, but she just raises that delicate, pointed chin of hers and stares defiantly back at me.
It sets a fire in my blood that I’ve never felt before, and I want to kiss her again just to prove a point.
But I don’t.
Instead, I clench my jaw, refusing to give in if she won’t.
“I’ll give you one more chance to back out,” I tell her in a low voice, roughened by the desire still pouring through my veins. “Say you changed your mind about going on the mission. No one will blame you.”
“No freaking way.” Felicity presses her lips together, unflinching. “I’m going.”
&nb
sp; Akhi. Frustration and lust mingle together inside me, boiling in my blood as I clench my fists.
“Fine,” I grind out through gritted teeth. “If you want to get yourself killed, be my slanching guest. Just don’t take any of my men with you.”
And with that, I turn on my heel, stalking away from her and heading back toward the camp.
I go straight back to the area I’ve claimed where I’ll sleep for the night, frustrated in a handful of different ways and more out of sorts than I can remember being in a very long time. I feel exhausted, as if forcing myself to walk away from the infuriating Terran woman took physical effort.
Even now, I want to go back, to see if she’s still standing in the cool shadows of the forest, her lips red from my kisses, her body arching toward mine.
That is the last thing you need to be thinking about, I remind myself.
The mission isn’t over, and I can’t allow my focus to lapse now. My quest won’t be fulfilled until Drokar is dethroned and the rebellion has succeeded, until Droth’s brother is brought to justice and peace returns to Vox.
That is my purpose, not lusting after some Terran woman whom my cock has decided it wants.
Giving my head a firm shake to clear it, I get to work preparing for the journey up the mountainside tomorrow. I check my gear and stuff a cloak and several furs into the pack I’ll be carrying. My fellow warriors have continued to dress in the customary loincloths that our people wear back on Vox, although the ones they’ve fashioned for themselves here are less ornate than the style worn on our home planet.
In the muggy, jungle-like air of the forest, the leather wrappings are more than enough. But higher up on the mountain, the atmosphere will grow much colder, so I’ll need to be prepared.
As I’m testing my comms device to be sure it’s in good working order, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I look up to see Kaide coming to a halt by the small fire that I’ve built against the chill of the night. He grins when our gazes meet, then sinks down onto a nearby stump.