The Smuggler's Radiant (Renegades Book 2)

by L P Peace

  Rhona nodded. His voice was smooth and gentle, but his appearance was off-putting. He had some weird hunch on his back and a loincloth but wore nothing else.

  Behind him, Makios pushed into the room and charged in, not breaking his stride for a moment. He ran at her.

  Rhona jumped out of the pod and ran across the hold. She jumped into Makios’s arms. He put his hand to the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair, and they kissed.

  The kiss was just as good as the first time. Makios’s lips were firm, full and he tasted amazing. His tongue entered her mouth, and every stroke stirred something demanding and needy in her core. She moaned.

  ‘God,’ she whispered. ‘Oh my God, Makios.’ The kiss slowed, and his fingers curled in her hair.

  ‘Rhona,’ he whispered and put his forehead to hers.

  ‘I can’t believe you came for me,’ she whispered.

  ‘I will always come for you,’ he promised. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  Rhona shook her head. Then thought about her throat. ‘Well…’ She tilted her head back. Her legs were still wrapped around Makios’s waist. ‘Do I have a bruise on my throat?’ She laughed, remembering the cell when she had asked a similar question.

  Makios growled.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes then.’ She laughed. She touched her throat. ‘It’s not as bad as the purple guy, though.’

  ‘Tolomus,’ Makios growled a reminder. ‘And whose blood is this?’

  Makios rubbed across her chin, and dark teal blood flaked away.

  She looked down at him. ‘Drexan’s. It’s why he choked me. It would have been worse, but Tyne saved me.’

  Makios turned to bring Tyne, who was standing just outside the pod, into view. ‘Then you have my thanks.’ Makios nodded at the adalan, who nodded back.

  ‘We’re going to get Aran now, right?’ he asked.

  Makios nodded.

  ‘Makios,’ a voice came over the comm. ‘An Amaran cruiser just appeared, and it is heavily armed.’

  Makios crossed the hold and pressed a comm button. ‘On my way.’ He looked at Rhona. ‘Would you prefer to walk?’ He grinned, but there was a tension now.

  Rhona slipped out of his arms and followed him, motioning for Tyne to follow. After what they had been through together, she didn’t want to leave him behind.

  She followed Makios out the door through which he’d entered. He led her down a small hall, through a galley and into another corridor. At the end, he placed his hand on a sensor, and they walked onto the bridge with Deyuul and Tyne close behind.

  ‘There they are.’ Drexan’s form was on a large screen. His nose was flat and misshapen against his face. Dried teal blood stained his mouth and chin, and dark green and brown bruising was blossoming over both eyes.

  He stood on the bridge of his ship with Aran kneeling at his feet, his black hair wrapped around Drexan’s fingers. His head pulled back, his neck exposed. ‘Ah, the Kathen. I would still enjoy watching you vrok her, Kathen. Return with her and my adalan, and I’ll let your crew go.’

  Rhona was going to hate him.

  Makios looked at the poor adalan at Drexan’s feet. The look in his eyes was begging, but the adalan didn’t plead for help. He looked at Rhona and Tyne and then at Makios. He was pleading for Makios to get them out of there.

  ‘Bring up the ship,’ Makios murmured.

  ‘You’ll find I’m very well defended,’ the Amaran sneered.

  In one corner of the viewscreen, scans of the Amaran vessel popped up. Very well defended was an understatement. Tala, in comparison, had minimal defensive weaponry.

  Makios turned to Vanoor who looked at him expectantly, waiting for the only order he knew Makios could give. Makios nodded, and Tala banked away from the Amaran vessel.

  ‘Makios?’

  ‘Rhona,’ Makios sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Stop them,’ Thalos spat at someone off-screen, spittle flying from his mouth.

  Vanoor hit the button, and the FTL engine flared to life. The stars shattered into streaks of fractured light over the viewscreen.

  ‘No! Makios, what are you doing? Go back.’ Rhona dashed forward, slipping out of Tyne’s grip. Her voice was quiet and disbelieving, her face recriminatory. Makios looked at Tyne and saw a sad but resigned look on his face.

  ‘Rhona, we can’t stand up to them,’ Makios said.

  ‘You mean you won’t,’ she accused him. She jabbed her finger at him. Her face crumpled from anger to sadness. ‘I promised him, Makios. Please.’

  Makios shook his head and took the little human in his arms. A part of him rejoiced at having her there again. ‘There’s nothing we can do for him,’ he said.

  She pushed off him and against his arms, stepping back. ‘You’re a coward.’

  Makios pressed his lips together. ‘Computer, highlight the weapons on the Amaran cruiser.’

  Rhona stared at him.

  ‘Look at the ship,’ he said.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head.

  ‘Look at the ship!’ he snapped.

  ‘I will not.’

  Makios shook his head. He could see what was happening. His Rhona was angry and needed someone to blame. He would not be that someone. Grabbing her hand, Makios spun her around so that her back was to him. He pulled her into him, pinning her arms to her side and turned to the screen, and showed her the Amaran’s cruisers scan. The weapons flashed in red across the ship—the whole ship.

  ‘Twelve light guns, sixteen heavy guns. Three artillery batteries along the top of the ship. Four torpedo launchers.’ Makios breathed. Rhona had gone silent and stopped struggling. ‘Rhona, I have four light guns and that’s it.’ He placed his head on top of hers. ‘I have spent eleven solars—what you would call years—helping to free slaves. Do you think it doesn’t pain me to see what he’s doing to that adalan? But it would mean the death of everyone on board. Including the thirteen humans we saved from the slave markets. Is that what you want?’

  There was nothing but silence for a few moments. Makios let her have the time. When Rhona stepped away, Makios let her go. She faced him, tears running down her cheeks.

  ‘I promised him,’ she croaked.

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t promise things you can’t deliver.’

  Her eyes flared in anger. She turned and walked out.

  Tyne nodded to him and followed.

  ‘Deyuul, take her to Dabin for her throat,’ Makios sighed. ‘And give them Sidha’s room. He’s not moved in yet.’

  ‘What about Sidha?’

  ‘He can bunk with you,’ Makios said.

  ‘I didn’t agree to that,’ Deyuul complained.

  ‘I don’t give a vrok.’ Makios turned his back.

  ‘Any sign of pursuit?’ he asked Vanoor.

  Vanoor shook his head.

  On the upside, she hadn’t noticed the Fenion yet.

  There was one of the aliens, like the one that tried to rape her and caused Michael’s death, sitting at the control of the ship. She saw him when Makios was pointing out Drexan’s ship. She didn’t know how to feel about that, so she ignored the whole thing.

  The ship’s doctor looked unnervingly Amaran. He was Zenin, apparently.

  ‘It’s really not his fault,’ Tyne said.

  Rhona looked up at him and groaned. ‘Not you as well.’ She shook her head.

  ‘It’s unreasonable to expect him to stand up against Drexan’s cruiser in this,’ Tyne looked around, ‘little ship.’

  ‘I know,’ she admitted. ‘But what else am I supposed to do?’

  Tyne shook his head. ‘Be smart,’ he said. ‘Come up with some plans.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Rhona said. ‘If I go at him with a good plan, he can’t turn it down.’

  Dabin scoffed a laugh.

  ‘No one asked you.’

  ‘No,’ the doctor said. He was applying some cream to her throat. ‘But of the people in this room, I have known Makios the longest.’


  ‘And?’

  ‘And Makios is stubborn. If you “go at him,” he will become inflexible. If you’re obstinate, movement will simply stop and neither of you will get anywhere. You have to go to Makios and suggest.’ He put the cap back on the cream and grabbed a medspray. ‘Painkiller. For your throat.’

  ‘Not my first one,’ she sighed and offered her arm.

  ‘If you suggest some ideas to Makios, he will think about them. He cannot help himself. He will turn them over in his head until he comes up with a workable plan.’

  Rhona nodded and thought about it. The strategy sounded familiar. It took her a moment to realise why; she had seen her mum use it on her dad. Something in Rhona warmed. She’d fallen for a male who was like her dad. She shook her head. She always knew she would.

  Rhona looked at Tyne. ‘Will you help me brainstorm some ideas please?’

  Tyne smiled and nodded. ‘Anything for Aran,’ he said.

  ‘You’re in love with him?’

  Tyne nodded. ‘Since I first saw him,’ he said.

  ‘Does he feel the same way?’

  Tyne shrugged. ‘Other than enjoying having sex with me, I don’t know how he feels.’

  Makios stepped under the hot water and sighed. He hadn’t had a shower since the morning he disembarked the ship at Caras. He soaked himself through, then shut off the water and poured soap onto his hands. He needed to get the blood, sweat and dirt from Tolomus’s ship and the Devori planet off him.

  Sitting at the con earlier, he’d harboured a little fantasy that he would be helping Rhona soap up right about now. She wouldn’t be allowing that any time soon if the level of her anger was anything to go by.

  Covering every inith of his body, Makios scoured as much as he could tolerate. When the pale spots of his skin were red from scrubbing, he turned the water back on.

  Carefully, he washed his hair, getting his thick fingers as deep under his horns as he could. There was a portion, just near where the horns met his head, where the gap was too narrow. His mother scrubbed his hair when his horns were growing in as a child. It was traditional for females to wash their male’s hair to help with this area.

  Makios imagined Rhona’s delicate fingers against his scalp, and his erection happened so quickly it hurt. Resolving to ignore it, Makios continued washing his hair. As he was rinsing, he imagined washing Rhona’s hair for her. Her long hair wet against her pale skin and narrow shoulders. His erection began to throb. He groaned and took it in hand, pressing and pumping, trying to relieve the urgency of it only making it worse. Giving in to the inevitable, Makios pumped harder.

  He imagined Rhona, wrapped around his waist. He was sheathed in her. Her body, not his hand. Just the image in his head was overwhelming. He leaned against the wall of the shower, one hand splayed open against the wall, his forehead and horns against his forearm and thrust into his closed fist as he worked it up and down the length of his shaft. He imagined the noises she’d make and the way her eyes would close when the intensity became too much. He intended on making sure the intensity was too much.

  Makios felt the wave reaching its crest when a knock on the door disturbed him. He groaned in frustration and opened the door to the cubicle.

  ‘What?’ he yelled.

  ‘Makios, it’s me,’ Rhona called back.

  His cock throbbed hopefully. ‘Shut up, you,’ he said, shutting off the water and getting out of the shower. The dryer hit him with a blast and took away most of the moisture. He walked out into his spacious bunk and grabbed the sheet from the bed, bunching it up over his cock to cover himself. He opened the door and ushered Rhona in.

  She walked in without really looking at him. She seemed to be muttering under her breath. She came to a stop and looked at Makios’s room.

  ‘This is huge,’ she said, surprised. ‘And a lot of red and plants.’

  Makios looked around. His room was the one place he allowed his Kathen taste to come to the fore. His bed, the head of which was butted up against the viewscreen, was red and white. The walls and floor were warm greys and a settee, placed near the door, was also red and white. A black coffee table stood in front of it, bookshelves sat behind it. On the opposite wall was storage for his clothes and other items.

  Besides that, every surface had plants on it, including the floor. Several pots hung from the ceiling, and tendrils of plants native to his homeworld and Tessa draped over the sides. They were an array of colour and made everything feel fresher and cleaner just for having them there.

  ‘You don’t approve?’ he looked around the room, already scrapping everything and wondering what they would replace it with—everything except the plants.

  ‘No.’ Rhona shook her head. She still hadn’t turned around. ‘It’s nice. I like it.’ She turned. ‘Makios…’ She stopped and took him in.

  Makios puffed his chest, allowing her to take in her potential mate.

  ‘Why are you wearing a sheet?’

  Makios dropped the sheet.

  ‘That’s not what I…’ As though there were magnets involved, her eyes went straight to his cock and Rhona gasped.

  Makios looked down for a view of what she was seeing. He knew he was big. He wondered how he compared to a human male.

  Whereas every part of his body was pale with red tattoos, his cock was a dark red with a purple head. It throbbed and bobbed towards her in time to his pulse. The top was covered in four rows of small nodules of firm skin, his foreskin was peeled back to reveal his large helmet. To the bottom, which because of the way his cock was standing, was facing her, were folds of firm, textured skin. His cock changed from wide at the tip, narrowed, then widened again. With it, he had learned to give as well as take pleasure.

  She was still looking at it.

  Makios raised his chin, determined to feel proud of his size, shape, girth. But he was beginning to feel self-conscious. If she were a Kathen female and wanted him, she would have presented by now.

  ‘Rhona?’

  She glanced up, then back down. ‘Just give me a second,’ she said.

  Makios shifted uncomfortably. How did he measure up? He began to soften. ‘Rhona?’

  She looked up at him, realisation crossed her face. ‘Oh my God.’ She shook her head. ‘Makios, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said, aware of how high his voice suddenly was. He cleared his throat. ‘It’s fine. I just feel like I’m awaiting a verdict.’

  ‘A verdict?’ she asked. Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, a verdict.’ Her eyes widened and she glanced down, then up. ‘Makios. Makios.’ She took a deep breath and shifted position. ‘Makios,’ she said again. She glanced down and up. ‘I’m not the kind of woman who plays games.’ She swallowed. ‘I want you,’ she admitted.

  Makios breathed a sigh of relief. He took a step.

  Rhona held up her hand to stop him. ‘I don’t just want you. I like you,’ she said, her face colouring in what Makios knew from his time with Alethia was embarrassment. ‘Like, I like like you.’ She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her head had dropped, and she was looking at the floor between them.

  ‘You have feelings for me?’

  She nodded. Her arms crossed over her chest and folded.

  ‘Do you,’ he paused, ‘see a future with me?’

  Rhona nodded.

  Makios smiled. ‘I feel the same way,’ he admitted.

  Rhona looked up at him and whatever she saw in his face, relief flooded hers. She let out a sigh, her arms dropped to her sides and she crossed the room, grabbing Makios’s face and pulling him in for a kiss.

  He gasped when his cock became fully erect once more. ‘Rhona.’ He pulled away from her. ‘I have to know—what do you think of my cock?’

  ‘I think it’s a monstrous, textured delight and can’t wait to feel it inside me,’ she said in one breath.

  Makios picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they kissed. He groaned as she slipped her fingers into his hair and pressed close
r to him.

  ‘Monstrous?’ he asked, breaking the kiss.

  ‘Size, not appearance,’ she said quickly, then delved for his lips again.

  Makios pressed his lips back to Rhona’s, then stopped. A chuckle escaped his throat.

  ‘What?’ She leaned back and looked at him.

  ‘Size, not appearance,’ he repeated.

  Laughter sputtered from her mouth. She covered it with her hand, but it continued to come; her face coloured again and the laughter subsided. Leaning her forehead against his, she closed her eyes. Makios closed his and revelled in the feel of her there, in his arms, in his room. He buried his face into her hair, breathing her in. She smelled so much better without six rotes of slave cage stink on her. But even through that, he was able to sense the smell that was distinctly Rhona. The scent that was stronger now without sweat and fear to smother it. Makios groaned. He smoothed her hair out of her face and kissed across her cheekbone, down her jaw, to her neck.

  Her head fell back to ease his access and she moaned.

  ‘This dress?’

  She was still wearing the dress she brought from Drexan’s ship. ‘I hate it,’ she said. Her voice was husky.

  Taking that as permission, Makios eased her to the floor, grabbed the plunging neckline and ripped it. It fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric.

  Rhona looked at the material on the floor and up to Makios, her eyes wide and laughed.

  Makios took her in, stunned.

  Rhona was tall. Naked, this translated to long, graceful limbs, a slender body, modest hips, a narrow waist and modest breasts. Her nipples were the same dusky pink as her lips. Between her legs, a small smattering of red hair covered the mound of her sex.

  ‘I know how you feel now,’ Rhona’s voice cut across Makios’s mind.

  He looked in her eyes and saw worry there. He looked at her body again, then her face. He wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He wanted to tell her she was his goddess, and he wanted to worship her body with his. He wanted to tell her so many things.

  He gestured to her and an incoherent noise came out. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, opened his mouth and let out another strange, wordless noise.