Treyvon (Kaliszian)

  His words seemed to do what he hoped, for she slowly relaxed and her breathing settled. As he lifted the arm again, he realized she hadn't just been gripping her waist to stay warm but because she was holding something.

  Gradually, he pulled on the bundle that seemed to be so important to her. It was a covering, and he realized it was the one Nikhil’s Mackenzie had given her. She was wearing the coverings they had provided for her. Coverings that he was sure were too large for her, just like the boots. There were so many things he hadn't thought of concerning her. He'd allowed his anger at her deception to blind him to what was right in front of him. It stopped now.

  Turning back to her, he opened the cape and carefully reached into a sleeve, his hand easily encircling her thin arm, and pulled it free. Then he repeated it with the other arm. Deciding that completely removing the cape wasn't necessary, he covered her with his blanket then made sure it was tucked snugly around her.

  Giving her one last look, he leaned down to dim the bowl of power crystals sitting on the table when he noticed something sticking out from in the folds of her coverings. Checking to make sure Jennifer was still asleep, he carefully pulled it out. It was a piece of paper with instructions on it in Kaliszian. Moving it closer to the light, he was surprised to see that they were instructions that he had given for the handling of the humans.

  Why would Jennifer have this?

  As he continued to look at the paper, the power crystals flared slightly, as they tended to do, and he could see lines bleeding through the paper. Turning the paper over, he felt his heart stop. There in his hand, with just a few strokes on a piece of paper, was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Her face was upturned, her eyes sparkling, and the smile on her lips… It made him wish it was for him. Instead, Jennifer was gazing up at the male beside her. It had to be her male, her Dasho, Todd.

  Gulzar had been right. Jennifer had truly cared about her Dasho. She wasn't just with him for the food he could provide her. It showed in her expression. It also showed just what she had lost at the hands of the Zaludians. Her face was fuller in the drawing, her cheekbones not as pronounced, and even her lips had been plumper. This was how he wanted her to look again. Not just on the outside, but to have that inner glow of happiness that was easily seen.

  Carefully, he reached out and ran a finger along those plump, smiling lips on the paper and for a moment swore he could feel their softness. Shaking his head at the fancifulness of his thoughts, he carefully returned the drawing to where he had found it and lowered the crystals.

  • • • • • •

  Jen rolled over and sank deeper into her bed. God, she'd missed this bed. Missed how soft it was. How warm it was. How it always had that pleasant, musky, male smell of…

  Her eyes flew open.

  Male?

  Musky?

  Her sheets always smelled like the lavender-scented fabric softener she used.

  Her next thought was that bed was on Earth, and she wasn't, which meant this wasn't her bed. Her heart was racing as she slowly opened her eyes, wondering where she was going to wake up this time.

  On a Ganglian ship?

  She wouldn't survive it again.

  She didn't want to.

  A creak and a deep groan from across the room had her slowly turning her head. The room she was in was dark, but there was a faint glow coming from the far side of it. Between her and that glow was a shadowy figure that seemed to be lying on some sort of couch, with part of its body hanging off one end. The large figure moved, seemingly to get more comfortable, and the creak came again. Suddenly she realized who it was.

  Treyvon.

  What the hell was going on?!!

  Looking back to where she was, she realized where she must be. In Treyvon's bed. That's why she recognized the scent, but how had she gotten here and why? The last thing she remembered was changing into the heavier, warmer coverings the Kaliszians had given them when they arrived before falling into the bed.

  Her bed.

  In her quarters.

  She'd been numb and exhausted after the events of the day, and she'd immediately fallen into a deep sleep. But that didn't explain why Trey… the General, she mentally corrected, had brought her here. Wiggling her toes, she realized her boots were gone. What else was? Moving slightly, she felt the roughness of the fabric and knew she was still dressed, but when she tightened her arms, the bundle of clothes she'd been holding wasn't there.

  Where was it? Where was the drawing Eric had done for her? A small cry escaped her lips before she could stop it as she shot straight up, her gaze frantically searching the darkened room.

  "It's on the table next to you." A deep, sleep-filled voice pulled her gaze to the now awake General before moving to where he indicated. Her covering from Mac was lying there and seeing the edge of the drawing; her heartbeat began to steady.

  "What's going on?" she asked sitting up. "How did I get here?"

  "I went to speak to you last night and found you asleep in freezing quarters," Treyvon told her, swinging his feet to the floor. "Why didn't you turn up the heat?"

  It was then that Jen realized that while she was fully dressed, he wasn't. She'd finally gotten used to seeing what she considered half-dressed Warriors, but right now Treyvon was half-dressed. He'd taken off his vest and boots revealing just how massive his chest was, and she couldn't stop her gaze from traveling over the bulging muscles. He'd also changed into a different pair of pants. Ones that while looser, hung even lower from his narrow hips, showing just the faintest shadow of hair. Quickly she jerked her gaze away.

  "I was tired, so I went to bed. As for the heat, I didn't know I could turn it up. But that doesn't explain why I'm here… in your bed."

  Treyvon closed his eyes at her admission. He would have to make sure she was better-taken care of. "I could have taken you to Medical. Would you have preferred that?" he challenged.

  "No," she grudgingly admitted.

  "Then it was here, where you could be protected."

  "Protected?"

  "I realize I have failed in protecting you not once, but twice now. But my vow, I will not fail you a third time."

  "Failed me?” Jen gave him a confused look. “How do you think you failed me?"

  "You were harmed while on this planet. A planet within the Kaliszian Empire and my Emperor has tasked me with its protection. I failed not only him but also you. I then failed when the Zaludians were able to penetrate my defenses and harm you again."

  "It’s my understanding that when the Ganglians took us, you were on the other side of your empire, defending it from invaders."

  "That does not matter," he dismissed.

  "And that when the Zaludians attacked nearly a…" She searched her mind for how long ago that had been.

  "It has been nearly a moon cycle," Treyvon told her, somehow knowing what she was thinking.

  "That long?" she asked, shaking her head disbelievingly.

  "Yes."

  "Well, you can't blame yourself for that either. You were on the other side of the planet at the time."

  "It was my defenses they broke through!" he retorted angrily.

  "Because someone here helped them! You returned as soon as you realized there was a problem. If you hadn't, things would have been a lot worse."

  "How do you know this?" Treyvon growled, trying to ignore the feeling her support gave him deep in his chest.

  "Know what?"

  "That they received assistance?" he demanded.

  "Mac told me."

  "Ashe Mackenzie told you this?!!" Treyvon couldn't believe it. "When?"

  "In Medical. After I woke up." Jen's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't possibly think Mac had anything to do with it! She was injured too, for God's sake! She would no more assist the Zaludians than I would!"

  "Someone gave them the codes."

  "Then it has to be one of your Warriors because I don't know anyone that would be willing or able to help the Zaludians. We couldn't
even understand you until you put your educator on us!" Jen fiercely defended her friends.

  Treyvon wanted to argue with her, but he couldn't deny the truth of her words. He had already cleared all the survivors, as none of them had access to the equipment needed to activate the transmitter or were able to send an encoded transmission to the Zaludians all under his nose.

  No, it was someone closer to him.

  One of his own and that is what worried him.

  "I do not suspect Ashe Mackenzie," he finally told her, "but that does not mean it should be discussed openly with you."

  "We weren't ‘discussing’ it,” Jen denied. “When I woke up, I asked Mac what happened, how it happened, and she told me. We don't lie to one another, General."

  "Only to me." His anger was apparent.

  Jen let out a heavy sigh, realizing it would be a long time before either she or Mac gained the General’s trust. "You know why we did that."

  "Do not do it again, Jennifer. I will not be as understanding if it happens again,” he warned.

  "This is you being understanding?" Jen questioned, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  Treyvon leaned down, so they were nearly nose-to-nose and growled. "If it weren't then, believe me, you would wish you were back in the mine with the Zaludians."

  Treyvon immediately regretted his words as Jennifer shrunk away from him, her body trembling as her eyes filled with fear. He hadn't meant to frighten her. Never her. He had spoken as he would to one of his Warriors, and she wasn't one.

  Straightening, he immediately took a step back. "My apologies. I did not mean that. I would never harm you, Jennifer."

  Jen closed her eyes, hating that her hand shook as she ran it through her hair. She needed to be stronger than this. The Kaliszians respected strength, not weakness. Taking a deep breath, she forced her gaze to meet his. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Treyvon frowned at her words. He could see she was still frightened, yet her gaze did not waver as it met his. He felt his respect for her grow, as did his need to protect her. And to explain.

  “I will worry about it. You have survived much, survived what most would not, but that does not give me the right to take my anger out on you.”

  “What has you so angry?” she found herself asking despite herself.

  “Not being able to discover who transmitted the code from Pontus to the Zaludians,” he found himself admitting.

  “Maybe no one did,” she murmured.

  “Someone had to!" Treyvon's frustration was easily heard. "The codes are only known to those on Pontus."

  "No. What I meant was maybe the codes weren't sent to the Zaludians from Pontus. What if they were given to someone else? Someone not on Pontus, and then they gave them to the Zaludians."

  "I…" Treyvon found himself frowning again. This was something he had not considered, but it could be the reason why Gryf was unable to find a transmission on the day of the attack. “That is something I had not considered.”

  “Glad to be of help," she said and swung her legs over the side of the bed. When her feet didn’t touch the floor, she pushed off slightly forgetting about her ankle. It didn’t appreciate the sudden weight and gave out.

  Treyvon was instantly at her side. His arms wrapping around her, pulling her close before her startled cry could escape her lips. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice suddenly deeper.

  "I…" she stuttered, and her blue gaze was trapped in the glow of his as she instinctively gripped his biceps. No man should be allowed to have such beautiful eyes she thought before replying, "I'm all right."

  "Your ankle. It is bothering you?" he asked quietly, his biceps flexing under her soft touch.

  "It's just stiff," she told him in a slightly breathless voice. "It always is when I haven't moved it for a while."

  "It causes you pain." Treyvon didn't like that. While he knew Luol couldn't repair her ankle, he could control the pain. "You will see Luol."

  "He can't do anything. You know that."

  "He can control the pain."

  "I'm all right."

  "You will see him, and he will treat you, or you will not have access to our food stores."

  "I…” Jen started to argue then snapped her mouth shut at the look in his eyes. He was serious. How long had it been since someone had put her needs first? Yes, Mac had rescued her, and the guys had worked their shifts, but this was something different. This was a concern only for her. She also realized that Treyvon's arms were still wrapped around her, her body pressed flush against him, and that she liked it. That was wrong. "Alright," she finally admitted, wiggling in his arms to be released, "but I need to shower first."

  "Shower?" Treyvon frowned as he slowly let her slide down his body. But he couldn't bring himself to release her completely, even as she took a step back, putting the slightest of space between them.

  "Cleanse," Jen corrected, using the Kaliszian word as she quickly pulled back the hands that had trailed down his arms as he lowered her.

  "I see," Treyvon found himself missing her touch as he took a step back, reluctantly releasing her.

  "I'll see Luol after that." Turning, she reached for her covering on the bedside table, and then started to move to the door separating the bedroom from the outer room.

  "Where do you think you are going?" Treyvon demanded.

  "To my quarters," she gave him a confused look, "to cleanse."

  "You will not return to those quarters until they have been properly warmed, and you are instructed on how to keep them that way."

  "Now just a...”

  "You will use my cleansing chamber," he continued as if she hadn't spoken.

  "Yours?" she whispered.

  "Yes. It is through that door." He pointed behind her. "There are drying cloths in the cabinet. When you are done, we will have First Meal." With that, he turned and left the room.

  • • • • • •

  Jen didn't linger in the cleansing stall as she wanted to, not with Treyvon… the General, being just in the other room. Oh, she didn't believe he would barge in on her. If she had learned anything about General Treyvon Rayner, it was that he was a male with honor. One that took his responsibilities seriously and she knew he saw her as one.

  Why that bothered her, she didn't know.

  But she also knew if she took too long, he would come looking, if only to make sure she was unharmed. Quickly drying off and dressing, she folded her coverings, and after making sure the drawing was tucked safely inside, she went to find Treyvon.

  She found him fully clothed, talking into his comm in the outer room. A sparsely furnished room with a couch, a table covered with what looked like maps and charts, and another with two chairs and a food packet sitting on it. A gigantic food packet.

  Even though his back was to her, Treyvon knew the moment Jennifer entered the room. Finishing his comm, he turned and watched her assess his living quarters. They weren't lavish, especially not by female standards. His mother always liked plush, soft furnishings with lots of pillows, or so he’d been told. Warriors didn't need such things. What would Jennifer think? Why did it matter to him? Seeing her gaze settle on the food packet, he moved across the room.

  "Sit," he ordered, pulling out one of the chairs. Then he reached for the packet when she had, and placed it in front of her. "Eat."

  "What about you?" she asked, pressing the white dot that she'd learned would instantly heat the food inside.

  "You wish to share First Meal with me?" Treyvon asked gruffly. He'd never actually shared a meal with a female.

  "Well, it's your food. Here." She slid the now hot packet toward him. "You should eat first."

  Treyvon looked at her in shock. Was she offering him her food? Him? Didn't she understand what he received because of his position? Slowly, he slid the packet back to her, then walked to the cabinet behind her and pulled out another one before returning to sit across from her. Heating his packet, he ripped it open and then raising an eyebrow at her, waited.
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  It had been so long since someone had waited for her to eat first. Back home growing up, it had been something that had always stuck with her. Her father had always waited until his mother was seated and had started to eat before he would. She'd never really appreciated the respect that small action showed her father had for her mother until Todd never gave it to her. Lifting her fork, she began to eat.

  Treyvon quickly worked his way through his packet the way he had always done, then looked up, surprised to find Jennifer carefully and slowly eating hers.

  "Is something wrong?" he asked.

  "What?" she looked up at him seemingly startled for a moment. "Oh no, nothing's wrong." Carefully she took another bite.

  "Yet you do not seem to be enjoying your meal."

  "You were?" she questioned, the disbelief easily heard in her tone.

  "It is as it always is, and there was enough. So yes, I enjoyed it."

  "I see."

  "You do not feel that way, though." He held up a hand, stopping her reply then ordered. "Give me truth."

  Jen stared deep into Treyvon's eyes and felt a pull she'd never felt before. She needed to tell him the truth, but she also didn't want to hurt him. "I fully appreciate that you have been willing to share your food stores with me, General. But no, I cannot say I enjoy what I am eating."

  Treyvon's gaze traveled from his empty packet on the table to the half-eaten one still in her hand. "Are meals on your Earth so different?"

  "Compared to this?" Jen gestured to her food packet and saw him nod. "Then yes."

  "In what way?"

  "I'm not sure I can explain. I mean if this is all you've ever known, then what we are used to eating would seem very strange to you."

  "What would you normally have for First Meal?"

  "Me personally? Or the average person?"

  "There would be a difference?" Treyvon raised an eyebrow slightly.

  "Of course. Breakfast… First Meal varies considerably depending on the day of the week it is and what a person wants."

  "Wants?"

  "Yes. Some, like my dad, liked hot oatmeal with brown sugar during the week. But on the weekends, he would make a huge veggie omelet. Now my mom, she always had a bowl of fresh fruit every morning. On special occasions, she'd put whipped cream on top." Jen smiled at the memory of that. "Now my little sister, Kimmy, she was a cold cereal and milk girl."