Chapter 5
Chapter Five
VENNOX
Ifelt her eyes on me even through the chaos of battle, a pressure against my scales more tangible than a touch. Her gaze cut through the distance between us like an invisible thread pulled taut with each swing of my blade.
My ancillary heart hammered against my ribs, pumping adrenalyne through my veins in scorching waves.
A deep gash carved across my shoulder and chest, while another slice opened my thigh, yet neither wound weakened me as they should have.
Instead, I grew stronger with each beat of my awakened heart.
My muscles coiled with renewed power. My ears swiveled and cupped forward of their own accord, my senses sharpening as they cut through the din of the battle until they found the one sound that mattered: the sharp gasp that escaped her lips when the void weaver's barb nearly found my throat.
The small sound reached me as clearly as if she stood beside me.
The final void weaver screeched and lunged, its sheer body distorting the forest behind it into a nightmare of fractured images. I pivoted, letting its momentum carry it past me before bringing my sword down in a savage arc that split its central cluster of eyes.
The beast shuddered once, twice, then collapsed at my feet in a twitching heap of limbs and oozing fluid. I barely registered the kill. My attention had already shifted to the broken viewport where she watched.
"Vennox." Truxxet's voice cut through my fixation. He stood several paces away, his spear dripping with phosphorescent fluid, his scales bearing the streaks of combat. "You're injured."
"I'm fine," I answered automatically, though blood trickled down my leg and arm in sticky rivulets. The pain registered as nothing more than distant pressure, eclipsed by the need to reach the ship.
To reach her.
"The threat is neutralized for now," Vala said, his luminous eyes scanning the carnage around us. "But more creatures will come when they scent the blood."
"Then we move," Ruze rumbled, "before the scavengers arrive."
I was already striding toward the crashed vessel, blade still unsheathed, pulled forward by an urgency I didn't try to name. The others followed, their footfalls heavy in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the blood-soaked ridge.
I reached the ship first. I slid my blade into its sheath as I ducked beneath a twisted piece of hull plating and stepped through the broken viewport in a single, fluid motion. The hammering in my chest grew harder with every inch the distance between us shrank.
Just inside stood my female. Her scent reached me immediately, unmistakably human yet unlike anything I had ever encountered. A sweetness lingered beneath it, soft and intoxicating, sharpened by the metallic edge of fear. The combination hit me with startling force.
I went still, suddenly aware of how I must look. Blood slicked my scales; some mine and some the slain creatures. My chest heaved. My eyes burned with the intensity of my awakening.
"I won't hurt you," I said, taking a careful step toward her.
"Good to know." Her feet stayed planted as she tipped her head back to meet my eyes, the graceful curve of her neck drawing my attention as she peered up at me. The corners of her full lips lifted slightly, the beginnings of a hesitant smile softening her features.
My gaze lingered on the soft curve of her mouth, and a powerful urge rose inside me to trace the fullness of her lower lip with my thumb.
I curled my fingers into a fist at my side, forcing the impulse down, though it did nothing to lessen the desire beneath it.
The females of Valose had perished when I was still a youngling.
Never had I touched one with intimacy, never known the press of lips against another’s.
"You're not injured?" I asked, searching her face with desperate thoroughness.
No blood. No obvious wounds. Just a streak of dirt across one cheek and her dark waves fallen loose around features every instinct inside me ached to protect.
Mud stained the fabric covering her legs, and one side had torn along her thigh, exposing glimpses of pale skin beneath.
She blinked, as if surprised by the question. "Me? No. Just some scrapes from the run." Her eyes dropped to my shoulder, then my thigh. "But you're bleeding."
"It's nothing," I said.
"Your wounds need cleaning." She looked past me. "Vala, we need medical supplies."
"Right here." Tyrk raised a white square package and crossed toward us.
"Take this," he said, handing the compact medikit to Quin.
"The silver canister contains an antiseptic mist. That blue wand is a derma sealer.
It passes a synthray over the epidermis, releasing a tissue-mend sealant that binds the deeper layers until natural healing is complete. "
"Thanks, Tyrk." Quin accepted the medikit and turned back to me.
"Come over here. Those wounds look deep.
After eight weeks on this hellscape, we still don't understand all the biological contaminants on this planet.
I've seen what infections can do in the field, and that was back on Earth, where we actually understood the bacteria. "
As she turned to lead me deeper into the ship, I caught Truxxet watching us. His expression was unreadable, but his keen ears had already caught the frantic thunder of my ancillary heart. There was no mistaking that sound. Every Valosian knew what it meant when a male had been awakened.
I had found my spirit mate.
My body was suddenly heavy as the adrenalyne surge ebbed as I sank onto a seat at the rear of the command deck.
The emergency lighting had dimmed to a soft white, throwing long shadows across the ruined interior and what remained of the command deck around me.
Torn paneling hung like flayed flesh from the walls.
Exposed circuitry sparked and hissed. Scattered debris marked a jagged path all the way to the shattered viewport at the far end.
I forgot the wreckage the moment she stepped between my spread knees to examine my shoulder wound. My spirit lurched against my ribs like a caged beast seeking freedom.
She took the silver canister from the medikit, turned it once in her palm to examine the lettering, then uncapped it. "If this stuff is anything like the antiseptic on our ship, it might sting," she warned, her breath warm against my scales as she leaned closer, eyes narrowed in concentration.
Then her gaze shifted higher. Her brow furrowed.
"There's a laceration near your temple," she murmured. "How did you get this one? It doesn't look as fresh as the others."
Her fingers slid into the loose strands of my mane near my temple, gently brushing them from my face. The soft drag of her fingertips across my scales sent a violent shiver through me. My eyes closed briefly as that small touch unraveled me.
"During the crash," I said, forcing my eyes open, painfully aware of how close she stood. "Brunnex's wound was severe. We were more concerned with him than with minor injuries." I shrugged. "I forgot about it."
Her pale eyes widened. "You forgot you split your head open?"
"There were more pressing concerns."
Her gaze shifted over her shoulder to where Brunnex still lay resting while Mara remained crouched beside him. "Will he be all right?"
"Tyrk believes he suffered a severe head injury." I glanced toward the unconscious Jurigon. "He ordered him to remain completely at rest until we can get him to the medics on Valose. Beyond that, we can only wait."
Relief softened some of the tension in her expression, though concern still lingered in her eyes. "I'm glad he's alive."
“Tilt your head back. This probably should’ve been cleaned sooner,” she muttered while examining the cut before lifting the sealer wand. Blue light hummed softly as she passed it over the laceration near my brow. “Head wounds bleed a lot.”
Her fingers stayed lightly threaded through my mane, holding the strands clear of the wound.
I gripped both knees and pressed down hard, the only anchor I could find against the pull of her.
Against the soft weight of her hips, the curve of her waist where the loose fabric of her clothing shifted as she leaned closer, concealing what my hands wanted badly to explore.
"There." Her fingertips lingered near my brow before sliding free. "That should heal up nicely."
I was irrationally disappointed by the loss of her touch.
She stepped back just enough to shift her attention to the deep gash across my shoulder and chest, her expression sharpening with renewed focus as she leaned in once more.
"You've done this before," I observed as she tilted the canister, releasing a fine mist over the wound. The liquid hissed against my scales, burning cold, then hot in rapid succession.
"I've patched up my share of wounded in the field," she replied, reaching for the wand.
Its tip glowed with soft light as she passed it over the edges of the gash.
"Though never on a seven-foot alien warrior.
" She paused, eyes tracking the glow of my markings in the dim light.
"Do your tattoos only glow in dim light, or in total darkness as well?
Are they phosphorescent or bioluminescent? "
I tilted my head as my translator struggled with the unfamiliar human term. Taa-tooos. The small device behind my ear buzzed faintly, as it did whenever it encountered anything without a Valosian equivalent.
Her fingertips brushed over the glowing markings on my forearm, moving slowly along the tightly knit scales of my flesh. A sharp breath caught in my throat as silver rippled beneath her touch, darkening into shifting shades of deep blue that spread outward in waves from where she stroked me.
“That’s amazing,” Quin breathed, her attention fixed on the shifting colors spreading beneath her fingertips. She traced the darkening blue scales with obvious fascination. “What causes your skin to change color? Is it adaptive pigmentation, like a chameleon’s camouflage response?”