Chapter 15
TORVEN
Atick, according to Vikkat, was roughly equivalent to forty-five standard minutes. Not a lot of time to mentally prepare for an expedition into malevolent territory where we’d be hunting ancient enemies who might not want to be found.
I watched Zara methodically pack her scientific equipment into one of the sturdy D’tran backpacks as she quietly talked to herself.
She sounded like she was writing a report out loud, and then I realized that she probably was.
She did have an implanted translation unit, which she never used, and it could probably record things if she wanted it to.
Either way, Zara was being Zara, and I was so enamored with her, I didn’t care what she was muttering about.
Her movements were efficient despite the lingering flush on her cheeks from our earlier activities.
Every time she bent over to secure another piece of gear, I had to force myself to focus on my own preparations instead of on the appealing curve of her ass.
The mating bond was not helping with my concentration.
“You’re staring at me,” she said without looking up.
“I’m not staring.”
“You absolutely are.” She straightened and turned to face me, hands on her hips. “I can feel you staring. The bond works both ways, remember?”
Right. The bond. Which meant she could probably sense the spike of arousal that shot through me every time I looked at her, along with the underlying current of fear that I was working very hard to suppress.
“We should talk about what happens if this goes wrong,” I said, deflecting from the staring conversation.
“Define wrong.” She went back to packing, stuffing what looked like atmospheric sensors into a padded case. “There are so many ways this could go wrong, I’m not sure where to start the list.”
“If the D’tran turn on us. If we find Kythrans and they’re antagonistic. If Vikkat’s promises about protecting you don’t hold up if you can’t fix the weather problem.”
She was quiet for a moment, her hands stilling on the equipment. “You’re thinking about exit strategies.”
“Always.”
“That’s very warrior of you.” She closed the case with a decisive snap.
“But we don’t have many options, Torven.
We need the D’tran to find our crew. We need the Kythrans to access the weather control systems. And we need both groups to cooperate if we have any hope of getting off this planet alive. ”
“I know.” I finished checking the charge on the portable scanner and strapped it to my wrist. “That doesn’t mean I have to like how dependent we are on the goodwill of strangers.”
“They’re not strangers. They’re your distant cousins who’ve been living in isolation for thousands of years.”
“Which makes them strangers with a genetic connection,” I pointed out. “Not a guarantee of trustworthiness.”
Zara crossed the room and stood in front of me, reaching up to adjust the collar of my jacket with a gentleness that made my chest ache. “You can’t protect me from everything.”
“I can try.”
“And I love that about you.” She smiled, and I felt the warmth of her affection through the bond, mixing with my anxiety in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. “But we’re partners now. That means we face the danger together, not with you trying to shield me from every possible threat.”
Partners. The word settled over me like a truth I was still learning to accept. My whole life, I’d been taught that strength meant self-reliance, that depending on others made you vulnerable. Even as a pilot, I’d maintained emotional distance from my crews after losing Bren and Kira.
But Zara was different. The mating bond made her different. And maybe that wasn’t weakness. Maybe it was a different kind of strength.
“Fine,” I said, though the word came out more grudgingly than I’d intended. “Partners.”
“Good.” She rose up on her toes and kissed me, quick and sweet. “Now finish packing so we’re ready when Vikkat returns. And try not to look quite so much like you’re preparing for battle.”
“I am preparing for battle.”
“I hope there isn’t a battle,” she said, moving back to her own gear. “I found the last one near the Destran city—the one Maya and Rykar were in—way too overstimulating and I wasn’t even present for it.”
The reminder of what could happen left me standing there with the taste of her still on my lips and the uncomfortable realization that she could, very possibly, be part of a battle.
I was approaching this expedition like a military operation, which made sense given my background. But Zara was right: the D’tran weren’t enemies, at least not yet, and treating them like potential threats would only create the very problems I was trying to avoid.
The door chimed again, and this time it was the younger D’tran who’d delivered our supplies earlier. The youth carried a tray loaded with food that smelled significantly better than the emergency rations we’d been surviving on.
“From kitchen,” he said in careful words. “For strength before journey.”
“Thank you,” Zara said warmly, accepting the tray. “This is very kind.”
The young D’tran ducked his head, then hurried away before either of us could say anything else. Zara set the tray down on the stone table and gestured for me to join her.
“Eat,” she commanded. “You’ll need your strength, and I don’t want you getting grumpy from hunger halfway through this expedition.”
“I don’t get grumpy.”
“You absolutely do get grumpy.” She handed me what looked like a meat pastry of some kind, still warm from the oven.
“You get this pinched look around your eyes, and your skin goes all dark and stormy, and you stop talking in complete sentences. We called you Captain Grumpy before the expedition began.”
I bit into the pastry to avoid responding—I probably was grumpy back at the Destran city—and was immediately glad I had. Whatever meat they’d used was rich and savory, seasoned with herbs I didn’t recognize but that tasted like home in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
“This is incredible,” I said around the mouthful.
“Right?” Zara was already on her second pastry, eating with the single-minded focus she brought to everything she enjoyed. “I think the D’tran might be distant genetic cousins, but their cuisine is definitely superior to standard Destran fare.”
We ate in companionable silence, both of us aware that this might be our last comfortable meal for several days. The expedition gear Vikkat had promised included food supplies, but traveling rations were never as satisfying as hot, freshly prepared meals.
When we’d finished eating and packed the last of our equipment, I took a moment to really look at Zara.
She’d changed into the thick, reinforced D’tran travel clothing that had been provided.
They were practical layers designed for harsh conditions.
Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she’d secured her breathing mask to her belt for easy access.
She looked competent and prepared, but I could see her brown gaze flitting all over the place, the slight tremor in her hands as she double-checked her equipment. She was scared, even if she was trying to hide it.
“Hey,” I said softly, catching her attention. “Come here.”
She crossed to me, and I pulled her against my chest, holding her close and breathing in the scent of her hair. Through the bond, I could feel her anxiety mixing with my own, a feedback loop of worry that we’d both been trying to contain.
“We’re going to be okay,” I murmured into her hair, saying it as much for myself as for her.
“You don’t know that.”
“No, but I believe it.” I tightened my arms around her. “Because the alternative is unacceptable.”
She laughed, the sound muffled against my chest. “Very logical.”
“I learned from the best.”
We stood like that until the door chimed again, this time revealing Vikkat and his full expedition team. There were eight of them total, all heavily armed and equipped with gear that suggested they’d done this kind of thing before.
My skin immediately shifted to darker tones as I took in the group.
I recognized two of them from our arrival—the warriors who’d stood silent and watchful while Vikkat had done the talking.
But the others were new, and something about the way they looked at Zara and me made my protective instincts prickle.
One of them, a massive male with intricate markings covering both arms and visible portions of his neck, stared at my own relatively bare skin with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
His eyes lingered on the mating marks on my neck, then flicked to Zara with something that might have been disgust.
“Ready?” Vikkat asked, his gaze moving over our packed equipment with an appraising eye.
“Ready,” I confirmed, releasing Zara and shouldering my pack.
The weight was significant but manageable, and I watched carefully as Zara adjusted her own pack, making sure the straps were properly fitted to her smaller frame.
One of the D’tran females noticed my scrutiny and moved to help, making small adjustments that would prevent the pack from throwing off Zara’s balance during the trek.
I’d taken everything I could from her, leaving her a lighter pack, but she needed to be prepared with supplies, just in case we were separated.
Not that I intended to allow that to happen.
“Thank you,” Zara said, and the D’tran nodded with what might have been approval.
But as we prepared to leave, I caught fragments of low conversation in D’tran between two of the warriors near the back of the group.
“…few markings for one who claims warrior past…” one of them muttered.
“Corrupted bloodline,” another replied. “Lost the old ways. How does one so unmarked find mate at all. Unnatural. She is from alien species.”
“Vikkat says we help them. But why? What have star-cousins ever done for us?”