His eyes softened. “You are One?”
Relief washed over me.
Firstly, because his luscious body no longer teased mine.
Secondly, he finally understood he wasn’t getting any kiss-kiss-bang-bang from me.
I nodded to his awed statement. “Venomous says I make his hearts sing. Fiercely is less open, but his eyes say it all.”
“To be One ... this is rare on my world. Having so many concubines and lovers makes it hard to find the special one who will accept and understand....” His eyes met mine, and held them. “And if I say that I will ... I will forsake my harem? If....” He trailed off at my crumpled features.
“Oh, Beowyn. That’s beautiful to offer. I just ... I just.....” Lashes wet, I shook my head and struggled to hold back a sob. “It’s them for me.”
He slumped. “You wish to return.” He sounded miserable, and his eyes reflected that sadness.
“Please,” I choked out, my heart lifting. “I love them so much. They’ve got to be so, so worried about us.” I placed a hand on my lower stomach. The other cupped Beowyn’s bearded cheek. “Please? Take me home?”
Thwarted, he eased us off the bed, as if hoping I’d change my mind, or maybe reluctant to forever close the opportunity of bedding me.
Sullen, Beowyn set me with care onto my feet.
Grumbling under his breath, he stalked to a mounted communication panel.
He jabbed a button. “SnowBlade.”
“Great One,” a voice returned in greeting. “You require assistance with the female? Desire another spouse to service you?”
“Nay.” He rubbed a thumb over the bridge of his nose. “Return to Rök.”
There was a brief, loaded silence then a hesitant, “As you command.”
I clasped my hands together and brought them to my lips.
Tears of gratitude blurred my vision as I launched myself across the room to do a face plant in his chest.
He patted my upper back. “Be calm, small one. Your mates will be displeased to know you and the cub were distressed.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I chanted in return.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
His mind was a tumult, hearts pounding a furious beat against his chest.
Breathing ragged, Venomous paced the base of a rusted landing pad.
Prior to the voluntary seclusion of their species, it had been an imposing congregation quarter for offworlder dignitaries, and ambassadors.
Forgotten for generations, the regal courtyard had fallen to shameful ruin.
It was a dumping ground for unwanted, outdated technology and weed tangles rather than for the welcoming of honoured guests.
Rodents scurried underground in a lattice of burrows, rocky Zyt nests were piled in dark corners, and the rotten stench of decaying leaves and animal droppings, made for an unpleasant locale.
Fiercely Comes the Night stood off to the side.
His eyes remained fixed on the roiling clouds.
He impatiently waited for them to break, for the Verak spacecraft to descend, and bring their Rä’Na back to safety.
The male might never let her from his sight after the horror of receiving the communication she was lost to them.
Dressed in his hardsuit, Fiercely crossed all four arms in a defensive pose. “He has had her for spans. He might have–”
“No.” Venomous sliced a hand through the air. “No.” He repeated it so forcefully, it was as if he did so to convince himself. “He would not dare harm her then bring her back.”
Fiercely held his gaze. “We have been betrayed.”
Resuming a frantic pace around the landing pad, Venomous’ head jerked.
He had thought the danger behind them, overjoyed to be home and amongst his people, bringing with him his light of the stars.
How has it come to this?
He, Wind Dancer burst from the Senate Quarter.
Robes swirling around his old joints, he hurried as best he could across the weedy, pitted courtyard.
He rushed to his son then grabbed his armoured shoulders. “I just received word.” His aged face creased with trepidation. “My son, my son! So dire is this news.” He cast a harried glance at Fiercely in commiseration then returned his gaze to his offspring. “I feel the tension within you. Your Rä’Na is not safe? I was told her captors return her as we speak.”
Conflicted, Venomous’ rugged features twisted.
Arms uncrossing, Fiercely eased closer, a hand drifting to his dagger.
He was ready to defend his nest mate if needs be.
Elder He, Wind Dancer might be old, white-quilled and heavy with gold, but he was Grandfather’s Warrior too.
The male remained a deadly threat through his cunning and emotional hold over his offspring.
If he deceived them as part of the conspiracy to steal away their precious mate, he might become dangerous once confronted.
Venomous stared into his father’s brille.
He searched for the lie in the worry presented to him.
He saw only concern and distress.
“My Lumen is fine,” he rasped at last, relieved he sensed no mistruth in the male he respected above all others. “King Beowyn ThunderClaw, and his High Commander, Éorik SnowBlade are scheduled to land within the next quarter-span.”
“ThunderClaw?” Wind Dancer shook himself, head rearing back. “Serpent’s Hood! How did the Great Alpha get hold of your mate? Is our planetary defence so compromised?”
How indeed, Venomous thought bitterly, again feeling the heavy blows of treachery to the core of his hearts.
“Elder,” Fiercely began with a neat bow. Regardless of his suspicions, the male was his father-by-mating, and deserved deference. “Where is She, Venin Stings the Sweetest?”
Shaken and confused by the change in focus, Wind Dancer’s mouth opened then closed before responding.
“F-Forgive me,” the old warrior stammered. “I know I am not being helpful, but this is a shock. My Rä’Na was unavailable when I tried her communicator. Do not fear, my son. Your life giver will be here as soon as she hears this terrible news, I am sure. Do you know how they managed to take Lumen from your lair? Do we even know how they circumvented the terrestrial force field? Such a thing has never happened before! I am outraged.”
“Where is mother?” Venomous grated.
Realising the wrongness with the line of questioning, He, Wind Dancer’s brow scales pleated. “I have said I do not know. She does as she pleases. I doubt I will see her until third moon, when we seek our nest.” The older male released his hold. Head angled to his chest in confusion, he limped a step back. “Why do you ask this? Are there not greater concerns?”
Filled with anger, Venomous inhaled to begin an infuriated outburst about his traitor life giver, but the ground beneath his boots trembled.
Small rocks and pebbles bounced.
His head shot up to restlessly search the skies above.
Humming an anxious note, Fiercely drew closer to his nest mate, as he too, scoured the sky for sight of the Verak.
There was a crack of thunder and the echoing boom of a roaring engine.
The stormy clouds parted then coalesced.
They blended with twin tunnels of contrail as the sleek craft ploughed through the overcast at an angle.
Rocketing over the municipality, it decelerated almost to a stop then vertically descended to hover over the landing pad.
Metal legs unfolded from the hull.
The spaceship settled with a mechanical creak and whoosh of air.
Impatience spiking, Venomous bounded up the steps onto the landing pad then sprinted right to the foot of the extending ramp.
Just as edgy, Fiercely kept pace then stood to his right, vibrating with tension and stress.
The hatch opened, and two figures haloed by light and vapour stepped forward.
Rage poured through Venomous’ veins.
It blistered his insides, and turned his muscles to st
one.
The possessive hold the Verak had on his female, his Rä’Na, was a transgression of the utmost order.
A snarl ripped from Fiercely’s throat. “He touches her. The Verak must die.”
Lumen ripped away from the male holding her as a lover might.
She bolted down the ramp at a dangerous speed, screeching their names.
Small legs pumping, one arm hugging her slightly rounded belly, and the other outstretched as if to grab them from a distance, he could see her eyes leaked.
Her face scrunched and reddened, but a brilliant smile stretched her lips the closer she drew.
Venomous’ dark eyes hungrily stared as she ran.
Nothing could express the depth of his relief and gratitude at seeing her safe and whole.
Dropping to a crouch, he opened all four arms wide.
Yelling, she leapt off the ramp.
She hit him so hard, he took a step back then straightened.
Swept up two feet off the ground, she locked her legs around his waist, arms cinched around his neck.
Her fingers gripped his quills, and tugged his gold, and frantically stroked the mass as she struggled closer.
Sobbing and hiccupping filled his ears.
He failed to understand her babble because she spoke so fast.
Overcome by it all, Lumen thrust her face into the side of his throat then fell silent.
She released a shuddering breath that told him explicitly how she felt about being tucked in his arms once more.
He touched his forehead to hers, and murmured soft words begging for her to calm.
His silky hiss of breath rushed over her wet cheek, and that alone relaxed her.
Glimpses of Venomous’ anima cascaded over his scales.
Hearts thumping with the exhilaration of watching her announce to all how she felt about him through her joyous flight to his side, he clutched her tighter.
So tight, she squeaked before he eased the pressure, so as not to squash her.
“My Rä’Na,” he rumbled body quaking. His brille threatened to unveil such were the dizzying heights of his emotion. “My Lumen.”
Taking a series of quick steps back, he let Fiercely take the lead in her protection, all his hands were filled or gripping her.
He had no intention of letting go.
Stance protective as he reached a hand back to touch Lumen’s thigh, Fiercely assured himself of her safety before focusing his attention on the offworlders.
Defensive blades on his forearms, legs and spine snapped through the specially designed vents in his hardsuit.
A trio of Veraks sauntered down the ramp.
Bending his knees, Fiercely held position. He threw up a hand. “Close enough.”
Leonine expression inscrutable, the lead Verak inclined his head.
His star-shaped pupil slits drifted toward Lumen then his gaze turned indulgent.
A smile curved his mouth.
Fiercely struggled with the instinct to fight the ones who’d brought his mate to safety.
They were clearly not an enemy he needed to slay, but it was hard to go from dark thoughts of rending flesh from bone, to benign ones of welcome.
Aeons of warrior training prevailed.
He rose from his defensive crouch into a non-confrontational pose, hands held away from his weapons.
Finally, his chin jerked.
It wasn’t the most refined gesture of peace, but he best the could do under such uncertain circumstances.
“Why?” he demanded, tone hard.
Murderous impulses under control, Venomous stared at the aliens.
He lowered his chin to his chest and, too, brusquely asked, “A fair question. Why bring her home?”
The lead Verak, the Great Alpha, as denoted by his colossal size and dominant aura, looked amused.
Then he glanced at Lumen.
Her slack, utterly relieved demeanour showed how she felt to be in the arms of her life mate.
He studied Venomous and the way he cradled her to his chest, and watched as Fiercely caressed the nape of her neck, his breaths huge and shuddery.
“She wished to return to you,” Beowyn told them with a roll of his horned shoulders. “I found myself unable to persuade her otherwise.”
“Good greetings,” Wind Dancer called as he cautiously climbed the last of the steep steps onto the landing pad.
Expression guarded, he trudged towards the huddle gathered at the base of the spaceship.
Blustery wind whipped his ankle length quills and shining gold into a tinkling frenzy.
The weather worsened, and a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky.
Sand scattered across the paved ground.
Leaves and stones tumbled over their feet until they fell off the edge from view.
The air smelt spicy and hot, and the heady pressure one felt before a hurricane grew in potency.
Puffing out his chest, the old male squared off with the Verak. “I am He, Wind Dancer, Elder of the Northern Senate.” He touched Venomous’ spare shoulder as Lumen’s face was buried in the other. “This warrior is my offspring. Lumen of the Stars is my daughter-by-mating.” Taking in the stances of those gathered, he decided upon courteousness despite the Veraks’ unsolicited appearance on their closed world. “I welcome you, Great Alpha, to our province.”
“Good greetings to you in return, wise one.”
Following their leader, the Veraks showed respect and bowed.
Beowyn bowed deeper. “Gratitude for your hospitality after what must seem a terrible offence.”
Wind Dancer’s brows pulled tight as he nodded, lips parting to reply.
“We will speak inside,” Venomous said.
“Our Rä’Na is best taken out of this weather,” Fiercely put in when it seemed Wind Dancer would object. “A storm alert went out last rotation. It is nearly upon us.”
“We have no provision for visitors on an extended stay,” the old male blustered. “No security, or accommodations, or–”
“So we make do,” Venomous interrupted.
“They can stay with us,” Lumen mumbled. “Beowyn is my friend.”
Venomous shushed her, and touched a hand to the back of her head, breathing in the crushed mentha scent of her curls.
Brushing his cheek to her sweaty temple, Fiercely addressed the Veraks. “Follow me.” He turned to Wind Dancer. “Elder, may I assist your descent?”
Taken aback by how the young males wrested control of the discourse from him, the old male reluctantly nodded.
He took up the strong, young arm offered.
With a sigh of long suffering, he began the arduous limp down the stairs.
At ease, the Veraks followed after one of the minor Commanders sealed their spacecraft.
Venomous went after them, refusing to put his back to strangers while Lumen rested in his arms.
He glanced over his shoulder at the coming sandstorm and sighed.
The group entered the Senate Quarter, and were converged upon by three a’Rä from the Warriors Guild.
Venomous had called upon them himself, reaching out to those on duty to help him track his missing Rä’Na when they thought her lost in the wilderness.
He, Cobra that Strikes, and two of his best from the Hunters Caste, Jinx the Storm and She, Deathly as It Goes also approached.
Jinx was young and untried, but Venomous had known Deathly in his youth.
He’d always thought she’d become male, her mannerisms and demeanour being serious and rough in a way most a’Rä wishing to be male affected.
It was a surprise to know not only did she not mind being female, but also that she relished it.
Considered the epitome of beauty by many of the Artisans, not just by her sculptor Rä’Vek, Deathly’s skills as a hunter were surpassed only by the leader of her caste.
It was a true accomplishment that allowed her to hold her head high.
She had been mercilessly teased for her low birth.
> Her position now meant she had become superior to those who’d looked upon her with scorn.
Dressed in a softsuit of muted grey over an off-white hardsuit that complimented her indigo scales, she wore one side of her head shaved, and a single plait in her dark quills, threaded with gold.
A thick band of the precious ore wound about her upper arm and was studded with jewels.
Cobra broke away from his hunters to eye the Verak’s with blatant suspicion.
His gaze landed on Lumen then softened. “All is well.”
“No,” Venomous refuted. “Far from well. Come.”
He led the way into one of the informal seating alcoves.
He sat upon a cushioned divan, keeping his mate wrapped tight, for she still quietly wept and trembled, though he knew from her tone, it was an outpouring of joy rather than sadness.
Stooping until in Lumen’s line of sight, Fiercely ran his knuckles over her curved jaw.
Unable to stop, the touch lengthened down the column of her throat. “Must I send for our healer? This is not good for our offspring.” A long finger lifted her chin. “Calm yourself.”
Nodding, she focused on steadying her breathing, leaning into his touch and holding his eyes.
She gazed at him with consummate trust.
Studying the two of them, Venomous could tell a barrier had fallen.
Lumen sighed. “You’re right. I’m too stressed. I’m calming down, so there’s no need to worry Nāga over it. He has his own grief to deal with.”
“You know that does not signify.” Fiercely murmured the mild rebuke, brow scales lifting. “If you need a healer–”
“I’m fine.” She kissed his palm then gave him a weak smile. “Not a scratch on me. Promise.”
“Are you hungry?” Venomous asked.
Fiercely watched another shiver wrack her small frame, well aware of the last time she suffered heat stroke. “Overheated?”
“Thirsty,” Venomous decided. “You were under the sun too long.” He aimed a commanding look at Cobra that Strikes.
“Have a Sylph bring sweet water,” the male ordered and gestured to Jinx the Storm.
Jumping to attention, the a’Rä hurried from the airy recess.
Venomous was surprised Cobra remembered the intricate detail about his mate’s preferences.
It was proof the male was the right choice for his Rä’Na’s lesser mate.