by Ella Maven
That had sounded exhausting to me. I had enough of my own damn emotions. This warrior’s aura, as the girls called it, appeared like a cloud of gray smoke. It shifted and churned violently. His emotions were hard to decipher, because while I could detect shapes behind the smoke, they were murky and blurred. Fragmented.
He grabbed my wrists and tugged me to his side in a not so gentle manner as he compared our loks. I sucked in a breath at the heat coming off his body, and his utterly dominating presence. Only Gar and Daz exuded an alpha strength like this guy.
I’d been told not all Drixonians could be trusted. Hell, we’d just fought a battle with another clavas who had every intention of harming us women. Where did this guy fall on the good and evil scale? As much as I didn’t want a mate, my first priority was survival, and I could only hope these loks meant he wouldn’t harm me. Right now, his grip was a little too tight on my arms, and his body felt coiled like a spring. I hoped when he set himself free, it wasn’t to my detriment.
Of course, Fatas hadn’t mated me with someone calm like Hap or Nero. Oh hell no. My mate was some scarred loner with a death grip.
For a moment, he didn’t move, and despite the fear coursing through my body like electricity, I met his gaze. Just when his smoky aura seemed to reach a boiling point, it suddenly fell flat. The warrior’s eyes cleared for just a moment, and a curl of purple danced across his black pupils. I couldn’t look away, entranced by the beauty and the sudden calmness of his aura.
He blinked, as if surprised, and reached out a trembling hand toward my face. I was shocked too, because despite my fear, I found I wanted to feel his touch. My fingers itched to chase away that choking smoke of his aura to see what lay behind it.
Suddenly, a rustling sounded in the distance. The warrior’s head went up, and his entire body went still. Then, before I could blink, he picked me up off the ground and sprinted through the forest.
We moved so fast everything was a blur. I wanted to call for Gar, but my throat still hurt like hell, and I was using all my strength to keep from puking as we whizzed by blue trees.
He ran for what felt like miles until he reached the base of a massive tree trunk and launched himself up the trunk. While holding me with one arm, he climbed the tree with his other three limbs. I glanced down, glad for once I couldn’t see well because I didn’t want to know how high off the ground we were.
He leapt from branch to branch and just when I felt I couldn’t take much more, he stopped abruptly and placed me on my one good leg. Thankful for his arm still bracing me, I swayed with dizziness. I blinked a few times before I was able to figure out where we were. Or more importantly, where we were not. We were not safe on the ground. We were in a tree and before us was a structure supported by a web of tree branches. A house, complete with four walls and a room.
This warrior had fashioned himself a Swiss Family Robinson life in the trees. The structure was large for a treehouse, at least two hundred square feet. The door lowered like a drawbridge, and he carried me across it until we were inside. There, he immediately strode toward a pallet of furs against the far wall. He laid me down and immediately reached for my ankle.
The minute he touched it, I cried out in pain. I couldn’t help it, but the damn thing hurt like a sonofabitch. He immediately stopped and studied me. I could tell he was conflicted. His aura pushed and pulled like he warred with himself. Finally, he leaned toward me, his movements halting, which was in direct contrast to the confident way he killed and climbed.
His hand closed around my neck, and the warmth of his palm seeped into the delicate skin there. My pulse, which had been pounding in my ears, slowed. I blinked at him, thoroughly baffled at my response to him. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want a mate, or loks, or to have to decipher a male’s feelings. I wanted to go home to my girls and my little room with all my plants…
But when he took a deep breath and pressed our foreheads together, I closed my eyes. A soft wind blew through his aura, and I could just detect a solid structure there, begging for me to lean on it, to give it my weight, to give up my control for a moment.
As much as I wanted to sink into him, I jerked back. The fear was too much, and I hadn’t let anyone prop me up in … well, ever. I was the only person I needed: a motherfucking island. I didn’t need anyone, especially not some warrior who lived in a treehouse.
He must have sensed my resistance—well, of course he did as he had my own aura in his mind—because his eyes darkened again and his lips thinned.
He didn’t speak, but when he reached for my ankle again, his movements were rougher. I gritted my teeth and let him rip my pants up to my knee to expose the injury. I’d let him give me some physical relief, but that was it. I couldn’t give him my emotional load, my fear over what could have happened and my worry over what was to come. I’d deal with that when I didn’t have to grit my teeth in pain.
He worked quickly, ripping the leg of my antella-skin pants that Naomi had bled over when she stabbed herself with the animal-bone needle. Oh, sweet Naomi. My heart ached at just the thought of her. She’d taken to this life well in her quiet sort of way, but everything about her made me want to shelter her. Despite everything we’d gone through and seen on this planet, she maintained an innocence about her. I hoped I got to see her again.
I wanted to get back, more than anything, but there were several major complications. I forced myself to think clearly rather than act on emotion and scream, cry, and flee.
First, I couldn’t communicate with this warrior. He didn’t understand me, and he didn’t talk.
Second, I didn’t know his story. I assumed he was a lonas, but what if the Night Kings were his enemy? I didn’t want to do anything to harm them by leading him toward their compound.
And third, I had what was likely a broken ankle. Even if I knew my way back, I couldn’t climb down this freaking tree and track all the way home on one good leg. That was asking for something terrible like a salibri to eat me as I limped home. There was also the minor problem of me not having any idea how to get there…
And fourth—we were connected now. I didn’t know everything about the loks, but I knew both of us would experience pain if separated as part of the mating bond. I wasn’t eager to be in more agony, and I didn’t want to put this warrior through that. So far, he hadn’t hurt me.
He’d killed the Kulks, carried me to his home, and right now, seemed to be working on my leg. He prodded it with a gentleness I wouldn’t have expected him to possess. After placing two flat boards on either side of my ankle, he lashed it all together with a thick vine. After that, he left. Just … walked out. No words, no nothing.
With my hands braced behind me, I took stock of my surroundings. He had carved a round window on each wall and the ceiling even held a skylight. As far as furniture, he didn’t have much. A small stone structure sat in the corner with a crude spit with a bowl over top, so I assumed that was where he made food. Other than that, he had a few boards stacked in the corner, as well as several jugs of liquid.
As I sat there alone, fatigue set in. It’d been a long damn day, and my muscles ached as I fought through the dull aching throb in my ankle. I didn’t want to fall asleep. That was the ultimate act of letting my guard down, and I wasn’t there yet with my warrior. I stifled a yawn.
The sunlight beamed down, making the golden marks on my wrists sparkle. I still couldn’t believe it. The Drixonians said Fatas chose our mates, and the bond began when a female’s blood was spilled. Which, in my case, had been when the Kulk punched me.
I tongued the raw skin on the inside of my cheek.
The bond locked into place when the warrior killed the one responsible for our injury. So, when this warrior of mine snapped the Kulk’s neck, that was it. We were mates, and now he lived in my head. Freaking great.
His aura pulsed with a steady determination, and I felt a stir of excitement from him just before he walked in the door, holding a large leaf cupped in his two palms. As he
drew closer, I saw he had a mess of green mud inside. He knelt fluidly and began to lather the mud on my ankle.
I watched with interest as the mud dried quickly and seemed to form a kind of cast. When he was finished, he sat back on his haunches, decorated wrists braced on his knees, and watched me.
I didn’t want to squirm under his gaze, but it was intense. Finally, he reached behind him and flicked his fingers through a small, crude box. He pulled out a pouch made of a large leathered leaf and reached inside. With his thumb and index finger pinched together, he gathered a small bit of brown powder.
He tapped me under the chin and held his fingers toward my mouth. I jerked back, eyeing him. “Uh, I don’t know what that is, so I’m not putting it in my mouth. Never take candy from strangers is like Earth 101, man.”
His eyes narrowed and he gave me a small huff. With his other hand, he placed it on the side of his face and then tilted it with his eyes closed.
“That’s going to make me sleep?” God, I was tired. All I wanted to do was lay back on these furs and rest my eyes. But what if I fell asleep and he sold me somewhere or took me to some cannibals? Anything could happen on this damn planet.
He watched me for a minute, like he was trying to work out what I meant. He pointed to my leg too, then made the sleep gesture again. His aura was insistent.
“So, you’re staying it’ll help with the pain and let me sleep?” I tried to disguise the tremble in my voice, but I missed my girls. I was tired and scared. “That’s nice, but I don’t know I can trust you.”
He blinked slowly, and then his muscles went lax. Purple bled into his black irises and he leaned forward. After a slight hesitation, he picked up my arm and rubbed his thumb along the mark on the underside of my wrist. He stared at the marks there, and then he visibly swallowed before he stretched out his neck and placed my palm on his scarred throat.
I sucked in a breath at the movement. For the Drixonians, exposing their throat was the ultimate vulnerability. In their fighting stance, they crossed their arms in front of their necks, and unleashed their machets, which were the bone blades that rose like daggers from their forearms, head, and down their backs.
The fight I’d been so determined to hold on to fled. While he allowed me to touch his throat, his eyes were wary, his body trembled, and his aura shook. The wicked scar there felt rough under my skin, and I could barely believe he’d survived whatever had injured him. He was letting me touch him in the most vulnerable place, one where he’d been hurt before.
That was when I felt the soft vibration. While he made no sound out of his mouth, the Drixonian purr I’d heard the other males make to calm their mates was unmistakable. While he fought through his fears and instincts to let me touch him, he still sought to soothe me.
If he could do that, then I could take this powder to sleep. I wrapped my fingers around the wrist of his other hand and drew it toward my mouth. He kept his gaze locked on mine. I gave him a brief nod, “Okay.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile.
I opened my mouth and he slipped his fingers inside before depositing the powder on the inside of my lower lip. I got a taste of dirt and grass before my eyes grew heavy.
I laid back on the furs, and the last thing I felt before I fell asleep was the steady vibration of my mate’s purr under my palm.
Four
The Warrior
I watched the female sleep. A voice in the back of my mind spoke to me, and I hadn’t heard that voice in a while. It belonged to the honorable male I once was, and it told me not to stare at her. It was the same voice which had told me to soothe her when she was scared. I listened to it then, but I didn’t listen now, because I couldn’t look away.
She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Her light brown skin gleamed in the rays of the sun, and her long, dark braided hair was splayed around her in my furs. She wore a pair of antella skin pants and a shirt made of a soft material. Her chest rose and fell beneath it, drawing my eyes to her full breasts.
I looked away then, the voice in my head insistent this wasn’t how warriors acted. We didn’t covet what wasn’t ours.
It’d been so long since I’d seen anything other than the prey I killed and a few Rizar or pivar packs. A few rotations ago, I’d seen another who looked like me. My mind fractured then, because something told me I knew him, but I couldn’t remember how, and I didn’t know his name. Even though I knew he wasn’t the one who betrayed me—I remembered his face—something about this warrior’s presence angered me and unsettled me. But with him had been one of her. A female. Not the same one sleeping next to me—she’d had yellow hair and pale skin.
She and the male were about to be attacked by a hunner horde, and that many stings would have killed them. So, I did what I could do save them. I hadn’t done it for him, I’d done it for her. I still wasn’t sure why. Now the male knew I was alive, but something about the fear in the female’s voice and her cries … my instinct had been to protect and save.
I worried though, because the male had spotted me and called to me as I fled in words I didn’t understand. What if that male knew the one who betrayed me? What if he told him about my existence, and my enemy returned to finish me off? So I’d prepared. I’d be ready this time. I’d be the victor.
Except now I had a more important task. The sleeping female in my hut. I wondered if she knew the other female, but why would she have been alone? That didn’t make sense. She would have been protected if she knew any warriors. She must be alone, which meant she needed me.
I looked down at my wrists and rubbed the markings there. What did they mean? I’d long ago decided Fatas didn’t exist. We had nothing to reward or punish us. Life was life, flecked and broken. Miserable. But I couldn’t explain these confusing skin markings that matched the female’s in front of me. A flash of recognition over the markings entered my mind, but quickly vanished like smoke. I couldn’t remember, or maybe I’d blocked it out, just as I’d blocked out most of the Before.
I’d been hunting when I’d heard a hoarse cry. I hadn’t thought much of it until I felt a blow to my face as if I’d been struck. I had tasted my blood in my mouth, a bitter tang on my tongue, but I hadn’t been bleeding.
I stumbled toward the sound of a struggle and that was when I’d seen the female fighting two enemies. I knew they were enemies even if I couldn’t remember why. They were hurting her, and they had to die, so I’d killed them with a few easy throws of my blades.
I’d intended to leave her, but once I looked into her eyes, I couldn’t. For a moment, she’d cleared the madness and made me feel like a duty-bound warrior again. I’d had an important job once, but it’d been long ago.
The only purpose driving me now was revenge on the one who took everything from me and turned me into a mute savage. Revenge was all that kept me alive, and it’d turned my mind into a wicked, murky, shriveled thing. Until her. Until I’d looked into her warm brown eyes and I’d seen a glimpse of what I’d been.
This was a complication I didn’t need, as my plans were focused on punishing the one who betrayed me. But she was a complication I wouldn’t walk away from.
I couldn’t.
She needed me. Her injury was severe, and she was alone. Where did she come from? She wasn’t from this planet. I didn’t know her species, but she wasn’t like me.
What was I?
Something important. A warrior. But that was all I remembered. I thunked the heel of my palm against my head, wishing I could knock something loose inside, to jar memories, but my mind, as always, remained dark.
Except for her. She was a large blossom on my mind, a golden flower which glowed, just not strong enough to break through the smoke choking my mind. I wished I could draw them closer, to clear the darkness inside of me.
Instead I stayed on the other side of my tree hut with my tail curled around my ankles. She’d be hungry when she woke, so I gathered a collection of jerky and fruits from my hoard and prepared i
t on a board. With silent steps, I placed it on the furs next to her along with a jug of qua, then padded away back to my corner. I wouldn’t disturb her. She needed her rest. Fortunately the gramin I gave her would help her heal. I wished I had more, but the splint and cast I made, along with the gramin, was the best I could do.
Until then, I’d care for her. I’d feed her and help her get clean. She was my purpose now. My wrists burned slightly, and I rubbed them with a frown. Then I rested my hands on my bent knees, leaned my head back against the wall, and waited.
The sun had almost set by the time she began to stir. She came awake slowly, smacking her lips with contented sounds. It was only when she stretched her arms over her head that pain streaked across her features and her eyes popped open. She gasped and shot to a sitting position, her gaze darting around my hut. The golden bloom in my mind began to close, and it wasn’t until she spotted me in the corner that the delicate petals once again opened. She showed no outward signs, but the truth of her feelings in my head gave her away.
I pointed to the food and drink by her bed. She eyed it for a moment, and then slowly reached out and grabbed a hunk of jerky. She bit into it slowly, but then as if suddenly realizing she was ravenous, rapidly finished everything on her board and drank down the last drop of qua.
When I went to replenish her board, she shook her head. “Uv ad eeenuf.”
I sat down beside her bed and ate the remaining handful of berries and jerky. My rationale for doing this was I didn’t like anything to go to waste. The truth was I liked being close to her, and she didn’t seem to mind.
“Ken u wondersten meh?” She asked me a question with her heat tilted.
I wished I knew what she was saying.
With heavy sigh, she looked away before meeting my gaze again. With a hand over her breast, she said, “Merr-anda.” I frowned at her, and she repeated it again, this time pointed at herself. “Merr-anda.”