by Ella Maven
Her fingers combed through my hair. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay.”
I forced myself to calm. I’d been panting with my fists clenched.
“I believe you, Drak. I believe that you don’t remember. And I also believe that whatever you did, you’re not that person anymore, okay?”
Wasn’t I? What if I was?
“Drak, it’s me. Merr-anda.” She pressed a kiss to my nose. My forehead. Each cheek. “Don’t worry about all of that yet. Right now, it’s just you and me. Just us.”
Just us. Like before. We didn’t have my hut or roof anymore, but that didn’t matter. We could pretend. She was my mate, and I was hers. No matter what this rotation held, or the next, or the one after, I’d always, always belong to her. My cora beat for her.
I kissed her, rolling us so she lay on her back, looking up at me with those deep brown eyes that comforted me like nothing before. Her hands smoothed down my arms, and her lips tilted up into that coy smile she always gave me before I took her. She liked my tongue and my cock, and I didn’t like a day to go by where I didn’t pleasure her with one. Both was better.
I kissed her, delving my tongue deep to taste her. She moaned and spread her legs, calves rising to press against my hips. I settled between them swiping her tongue with mine one last time before pulling back.
She stared up at me, her mouth wet from my attentions. “Drak,” she murmured.
I slid down her body, tugging off our clothes as I went. I hated them. When we’d been alone, we often went without in my hut. I loved seeing the way her large breasts swayed when she walked, and it’d been easy to slip my tongue between her legs whenever I wanted a taste of her.
When she was bared to me, I studied her sweet cunt with its dark curls. With my claws completely retracted, I spread her folds and slid my tongue from her entrance to her clit.
She arched her back and gripped my hair, tugging fiercely with a growly moan that made my cock ache every time. I ate at her, nipping slightly and swirling the balls pierced into my tongue around her sensitive flesh. Her heels dug into my back and her body shook as I pleasured her with my mouth.
I wanted to spear her with my cock, so I concentrated on her hard bud, sucking hard until she came with a trembling cry. I rose above my mate, licking her juices off my lips and chin before placing the tip of my cock at her entrance and surging inside.
Her neck arched and she hissed out a “yessssss,” as I plunged into her, a knee on the bed so I stroked her at the perfect angle, the one I’d perfected after getting to know her body so well.
She clung to my shoulders, eyes staring into mine, body jolted with each of my thrusts. I pounded her sweet body, wishing I could tell her how much she meant to me, how I’d kill for her and die for her. That she was the reason I remembered my own flecking name.
But I couldn’t. All I could do was grab her palm and place it around my throat. Her eyes widened as I chanted her name with each rut of my hips. “Merr. Anda. Merr. Anda. Merr. Anda.”
She blinked rapidly, and her lips parted. I kissed her, pouring everything I had into that kiss just as I came, releasing myself into her. My arms shook, and I fell to the side of her, keeping us connected as I liked to do, as she panted beside me.
Her palm remained on my throat. “Merr. Anda.” I whispered.
A single tear slid down the side of her face, and I licked it away.
Ten
Miranda
I loved him. Which was a total mindfuck. I went from Independent Woman to Devoted Mate in a matter of weeks. In the back of my mind, I had to admit to myself I’d thought the other women emotionally weaker for falling for these big blue guys. Despite the whole mate and loks thing, I figured they still just went along with it when I would have fought it.
And now look at me. Not fighting it at all. Hell, I would fight this whole clavas for Drak, and that terrified me. What if they refused to accept him? What would I do? I loved my girls, but I also couldn’t imagine being without Drak. He was the reason I felt I could win a hypothetical Survivor: Planet Torin television series. In the past, I’d either dated men who wanted to dominate me or who wanted me to be their second mom. I was never about any of that.
But Drak was my partner. My teammate. He lay beside me with his violet eyes swirling and my palm tingling from the rasp of my name on his tongue. I believed in my heart he was good. I would get to the bottom of why he was sent away and use every single courtroom skill I had to convince Daz to let Drak stay.
No one on this planet had met Miranda Glennon, defense attorney for the prestigious Michaels and Paulson law firm, but they were about to.
Silence was our norm, but now he could understand me, I found myself wanting to fill the silence. So, I did. I told him about how I was taken from Earth by the Rahguls and plopped on this planet like livestock. I explained how Daz and his males had been supposed to deliver us to the Uldani in exchange for Sax, who they had imprisoned. But Daz had no intention of ever handing us over to the Uldani. Sax ended up getting free on his own with Val, and we’d been living in these walls ever since.
“I went out with Gar and another male to learn some hunting techniques. We got separated and that was when the Kulks grabbed me. And you rescued me.”
He tried to say a word, his neck strained, and he grew frustrated when no sound came out. I wasn’t a lip reader, but I tried. “Are you saying safe?”
He nodded, then pointed at me, and the floor of the hut. He licked his lips and tried again. “Merr-anda. Safe. Here.” His last word was a toneless rasp. I jerked upright and placed my hand over my throat. “Your words! Does it hurt to speak? You don’t have to. We did fine before.”
He swallowed and rolled his jaw. Then he gave me a sharp nod.
“Don’t push it,” I said. “If you want to talk, we can work on it. Practice every day. But not unless you’re up for it. Okay?”
He sat up and crossed his legs in front of him. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his throat. The scarred ridge rasped against my palm. He took a few deep breaths before saying, “Try.”
The light behind his aura shone determinedly, cutting through the thin layer of smoke.
“Okay, say your name.”
“Drak.”
“Say mine.”
“Merr-anda.”
“Say what you are.”
He didn’t answer, and his aura dimmed. He looked away from me, and the sadness in the downturn of his mouth made my heart skip.
“Drak, listen to me. You’re a Drixonian warrior.”
He blinked rapidly, his gaze still on the far wall.
“Say it,” I said.
Nothing.
This wasn’t okay. He didn’t need to speak for me, but he did need to stand up for himself, no, be proud of who he was. I refused to let him be ashamed of something he couldn’t even remember. I squeezed his throat and leaned closer. “Say it now, Drak. For me.”
Finally, his gaze swung to me. And though his aura trembled with anger and resentment, he opened his mouth and said in halting, broken syllables. “Drix—nian war—or.”
I rubbed my thumb along his scar. “Yes, you are. Remember that. Okay?”
“You,” he uttered as he tugged me into his lap. I straddled his hips as he nuzzled my cheek before resting his lips near my ear. “You … are … mah … light.”
I hugged him, loving the strength with which he held me in his arms. His tight embrace said more than words, but I had to admit it’d been damn nice to hear his words too. I was his light. No man in my life had ever said anything to me like that. I combed my fingers through his hair. “And you are mine.”
The door flung open and Drak stiffened, tossing me onto my back and throwing a fur up to my neck. I yelped with surprise. He rose out of the bed with a growl, machets out, unconcerned with his nakedness as a warrior filled the doorframe.
“Miranda!” Gar’s voice called from the outside. “Where are you?”
“I’m here!” I struggled to sta
nd up and tripped over the fur wrapped around my body. I stumbled into Drak’s back and one of his bone blades nicked me in the hip. “Ouch!” I whimpered as the blade sliced through my skin like a sharpened knife.
I realized my mistake a second too late. Our only warning was a growl as bodies rushed into the room. Gar came at Drak with his fists out, but Drak was ready for him, clocking him in the jaw with a solid punch. Gar didn’t even flinch and slashed his claws across Drak’s chest. The scent of blood filled the air.
“Stop!” I screamed. The fur covering forgotten, I threw myself in front of Drak.
Gar pulled his punch at the last second, which was good because one of his blows would have caved in my face. He reared back with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
He stared at my nude body, gaze coming to rest on the cut marring my hip. “You’re injured.”
“I’m fine,” I barked at him. “When you guys ran in here without knocking, Drak rose to defend me on instinct. I jumped up and ran into one of his back spikes.”
Drak’s form at my back shifted, and his fingers ghosted over my hip. Retracting his machets quickly, he gathered me in his arms and sat on the pallet with me. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and vibrated his chest, seeking to soothe me. His expression was apologetic, and I patted his chest. “It’s fine. An accident. See? It’s already clotting.”
I turned a glare to Gar, who stood with Ward and Daz at his back. “Is it too much to ask to get in a quick turn with the cleanser and dressed first, and then you can barge in when we’re finished?”
“I’m sorry,” Gar began. “I—”
“You jumped to conclusions. Yes. I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I promise Drak will not slice and dice me.”
Gar heaved a large breath and then turned and walked out the door. Ward followed him. Daz remained, a conflicted look on his face. “Knock when you’re dressed,” he said. “We have a lot to discuss today.”
“That we do, drexel,” I said.
His lips thinned when I used his title. It was honorific and respectful, but it also showed I meant business. With a nod, he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him.
Drak watched him go, his aura shimmering and thinning into a barely there mist. I touched his face, and his gaze shifted to me. His eyes looked haunted. He shook his head and handed me my clothes before pulling on his single pair of pants. It was the only possession he had, and that thought nearly killed me.
Today was going to be a battle.
Miranda
I felt like we were on a perp walk. I strode next to Drak, who held his head high as we were led by Daz, Ward, Gar, and Sax to the dining hall. Members of the clavas watched, keeping their distance like we were diseased. At least they hadn’t chained Drak.
The girls stood huddled together in front of the dining hall. Frankie looked absolutely livid as she glared daggers at Daz. I gave her a brave smile to let her know I was okay. My heart warred with my head. As a lawyer, I understood Daz’s need to sit down and hear the full story. As a woman in love, I hated every minute of it.
As we entered the dining hall and made our way back to the sacred meeting room of the head of the Night Kings, I wondered if it would be the last time I’d be welcome inside these walls.
We filed inside, where Xavy and Nero waited for us. Nero’s expression remained calm and impassive as always, while Xavy’s jaw was clenched and his leg bounced in agitation. He gave me a brief nod, and I saw the sympathy there. For such a joker and wicked warrior, he was a very empathetic guy. I knew he hated this almost as much as I did.
Drak and I sat at one end of the long table while Daz sat at the other. The rest of the males took their seats along the sides. Daz sat with his hands folded on the table, eyes on me. “I know you’re angry with me, Miranda. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry with you,” I said. “I’m very frustrated over the situation. I get it, but that doesn’t change how I feel.”
His lips twitched into an almost smile. “Frankie is less understanding.”
“Frankie runs on pure emotion,” I said.
“And you don’t?”
“I do, but I also understand order, and your position as the leader here. So, let’s start talking. The sooner we do that, the closer Drak and I will be finding out where our future lies.”
Daz’s jaw clenched. “You will always be welcome here.”
I scoffed and held up my wrists, loks on display. “He’s my mate. Where I go, he goes.”
He sighed heavily and glanced at his brother before speaking again. “I need you to explain what happened the day you went hunting with Gar.”
I nodded. “Everything was going fine. Gar shot an antella, and he went to retrieve it and told me to wait with Crius.”
Drak’s body jolted, and he sucked in a breath as his gaze whipped to me. The mist of his aura kicked up, swirling into an angry tunnel.
“What?” I asked, placing my hand on his.
He blinked rapidly, and then shook his head, but his aura remained stormy.
“Go on,” Daz said.
“Uh.” I shot Drak another look, distracted by his reaction. “Uh, so when Gar was gone, Crius said that he’d noticed a welf burrow and he’d show it to me. I said I thought we should wait for Gar, and he said it would fine and that we’d only be gone a moment. So, he led me away. After a while, he nudged me in front of him, and told me to keep walking. I did, but I didn’t see any welf burrow. I turned around to ask him where it was, and he wasn’t there. Just… gone.”
Gar slammed his fists down on the table so hard, the legs creaked. I jerked at the sound. “The fleck you say!” he roared.
I stared, stunned at his reaction. “I’m sorry…” I glanced around the table, but no one would look at me. “Wait, what’s wrong?”
Gar paced the length of the room, fists clenched at his sides.
“Get him,” Daz said, flicking his fingers at Sax.
Sax stood swiftly and left the room.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Daz looked me square in the eye. “You’re telling the truth, Miranda?”
“Of course, I am. Why would I lie? When I realized I was alone, I panicked and heard someone walking toward me. I thought it was Crius returning, or Gar, but instead it was three Kulks.” I leaned forward, using my closing argument voice. “They grabbed me, hit me, and began carrying me off somewhere. Until Drak showed up. He killed them all, our loks appeared, and then he cared for my broken ankle for weeks until I could walk again.”
The door opened, and Crius strode inside, Sax at his back. “What’s this ab—?” He froze when he caught sight of me. Then his gaze swung to Drak.
Drak’s swirling aura spun faster and faster as he slowly rose to his full height. His eyes were black as pitch as he locked onto Crius like I’d seen him do to prey while hunting. The tornado of his aura exploded into a burst of smoke just as a blinding white light shone through like a savage spotlight.
A sound emerged from Drak’s throat that I would never forget as long as I lived. It was pained and ravaged, a growl that seemed to unleash from his very core. It ripped up his damaged throat and thundered around the room like hurricane.
That’s when he lunged. I’d never seen him move that fast. One second he was beside me and in the next he was on top of Crius, pummeling him with lightning-fast fists. Over and over he slammed his knuckles into Crius’s bloodied face until Ward hauled him off of the battered male.
But that didn’t matter. Drak broke from Ward and went at Crius again, the godawful sound still leaving his throat, like a rabid animal. Crius weakly defended himself from the punishing blows. I screamed for Drak to stop, and it took the strength of Ward, Gar, and Sax to pull Drak off Crius and hold him onto the ground. Still he fought. Still he made that sound that sent a sharp shard of ice down my spine.
Daz knelt by Crius and lifted his upper body. The beaten warrior moaned, his head limp against Daz’s chest.
“Fl
eck,” Daz muttered. “I wasn’t thinking about how Drak would feel seeing Crius.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded, standing up so fast, my chair crashed to the floor behind me. Drak thrashed on the floor at the sound.
Daz’s jaw clenched. “Crius was the one who saw Drak making a deal with the Uldani. He’s the reason he was cast out.”
Suddenly lightheaded, I stumbled. Xavy reached for me but I shoved him away. Drak making a deal with the Uldani?
“That can’t… that can’t be,” I said. “He killed at least nine Kulks for me. Why would he do that if he was working with them?”
Daz sighed. “I can’t answer that.”
A theory occurred to me. “But wait, was it only Crius who saw this deal?”
Daz sighed. “I know where you’re going with this. Miranda, Drak didn’t deny it.”
Drak lay panting on the floor, his eyes closed. I blinked at Daz. “He didn’t… What do you mean he didn’t deny it?”
“He and Crius fought, and he was injured. When we asked him what happened, he never spoke once in his defense.”
This didn’t make sense. None of it.
Crius moaned. He raised a hand to his face and opened his battered eyes. His gaze clashed with mine, and immediately his body went tense. For a moment, he didn’t speak, and then he said, “Miranda, we thought you were gone forever.”
Something was off. His words were careful and measured even as he spoke through a rapidly swelling jaw.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why did you want him to come here?” I asked Daz.
He pulled Crius into a chair, and Crius groaned. “You’ll live,” Daz grumbled. “Answer our questions and then we’ll take you to get some medis.” He folded his hands on the table. “Tell us again what happened when Miranda went missing.”
Crius blinked, and cast his gaze around the table. Fear flickered in his eyes, and I went still. I knew a man about to lie when I saw one.
“She wanted to see a welf burrow. So, I led her there and while we were looking for it, something caught my attention. I looked away from her for a moment when I looked back, she was gone. I saw signs of a struggle—”