Chapter 9
“I noticed.” He tried to straighten up, and his face went gray. Actually gray, like old concrete, the blood across the side of his face almost comical in contrast.
“Oh, sit down before you fall down,” Amelia ordered, looking around. Fancy ship like this, there had to be a first aid kit around here somewhere.
He ignored her, trying to stand on his own and reach for the console at the same time. “No, I need to bring the weapons back online. The other ships—”
“Can wait thirty seconds while you stop bleeding everywhere.”
She got her shoulder under his arm and half-walked, half-dragged him over to the co-pilot’s chair. He was heavy. Sheesh, what did the Imperial Bodyguard group… whatever it was called, feed these guys on?
“I can walk.”
“You can barely stand. So shut up and let me help you, okay?”
He shut up. He actually shut up. That scared her more than the blood.
She got him into the chair, and he sat with a thump that rattled it in its mooring. His head dropped back against the headrest, his eyes closing, and for one horrible moment she thought he’d passed out… or worse. Then he winced and opened his eyes, and she could breathe again.
She looked around. The bridge was an utter disaster. Half the panels were dark or flickering randomly, the deck was slick with foam and blood, and there were bodies. Like… actual bodies. She didn’t want to think about the bodies. Not right now.
“Is there a first aid kit somewhere? Or some medical supplies?”
“Panel.” Lifting his good hand, he waved at the wall to the side of the console.
She found it after two wrong tries and a white case that slid out of a compartment.
Grabbing it, she hauled it over to the console and opened it up.
Inside was a whole heap of things she didn’t recognize.
There were tubes and patches, alongside devices that looked like they belonged in a science fiction film, which…
Yeah, right. She was on an alien spaceship. Everything here looked like it belonged in a science fiction film.
“Okay.” She rested her hands on the edges of the case. “Talk me through this. What do I use?”
“Blue patch. Side of the head. It’ll seal the wound.”
She found the blue patch. It was about the size of her palm and flexible. Her hands shook as she tried to peel the backing off. Dammit, she couldn’t get her fingers to cooperate.
His hand closed over hers. Warm and steady.
“Hey.” His voice was rough. “Breathe. Just breathe. Everything’s okay.”
She nodded and breathed. In and out. In and out. After a moment, she tried again and managed to peel the backing off.
“I have no idea if this is gonna hurt.” She winced as she pressed it to the wound in his hair where the blood was the worst. It adhered right away, the edges melting and sealing over the wound as she watched.
“Good.” His eyes were open now, and he watched her steadily. “Now the gray one. Ribs.”
Rifling through the case contents, she found the gray patch and pressed it to his side when he lifted his arm. The deep bruising there made her feel sick. He hissed when it made contact, but didn’t pull away. The patch warmed under her palm, some kind of reaction happening beneath the surface.
“You should be lying down,” she said.
“I should be bringing the weapons back online.”
“The pirates are dead.”
“The pirate ships aren’t.”
She looked up at the viewscreen. It was cracked in one corner and flickering, but she could still see the debris field outside, rocks tumbling past in slow motion. And beyond them, dark shapes holding position at the edge of the field.
Her stomach dropped.
“They’re still out there.”
“They’re waiting to see what comes out of the wreckage.” He pushed himself more upright in the chair with a groan. “If it’s us, they’ll finish the job. If it’s their people, they’ll pick them up and leave.”
“Can we run?”
He shook his head. “Not with the drive in the state it’s in.”
“Can we fight?”
“No. We don’t have anything left. I’m sorry, kelarris.”
She bit her lip. Nothing left, in a crippled ship with pirates circling. It was like the plot of a bad holo-movie. But if it was, reinforcements would have already arrived.
The scanner pinged.
Thyaar froze, hand on his ribs. His expression shifted from exhaustion to something she couldn’t identify. Then he let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
“What?”
“Backup.” He tapped the screen and the view changed.
Another ship emerged out of the darkness.
And it was big. Really big. Bigger than the pirate ships, bigger than anything she’d ever seen.
Which wasn’t saying much since the space-ships she’d actually seen were the one they were in and the three that had attacked them. But this thing was immense.
“Imperial war-cruiser,” he said. “The beacon worked.”
The pirates scattered, peeling away from the debris field like they were on fire and accelerating hard in different directions. The war-cruiser didn’t bother to go after them. It just... sat there, massive and patient, while the pirates ran.
She remembered how to breathe.
“Oh, thank god.”
Thyaar’s hand found hers again. He was still watching her, not the screen.
“You’re safe,” he said. “It’s over.”
It hit her all at once… the raw terror she’d pushed so far down it shook her from head to toe and the tears she’d been holding back.
She’d almost died. He’d almost died. There’d been a gun to his head and she’d—
“Hey.” His voice again, rough and warm. “Hey. Kelarris, look at me.”
She looked at him. His face was a mess, blood and bruises and exhaustion, but his eyes were clear and focused entirely on her.
Her hands were still on his chest and she could feel his heart beating under her palm, steady and strong. Alive.
“The bond,” she said, her voice tight. “What you said before. About being your mate.”
His jaw tightened. “Amelia—“
“I need to know what that means. I need—“
“It means nothing.” The words came out level and controlled. “If you don’t want it to. If you don’t want me.” He looked away, his expression tightening. “The bond is my burden, not yours. If you don’t want it then I’ll take you back to Earth. You’ll never have to see me again.”
The cold knot in her chest cracked open.
“Fuck off.”
His gaze snapped back to hers, his eyes widening.
Anger surged, rising up through the fear and the exhaustion like lava through rock, hot and bright and out of her control.
“You don’t get to do that,” she snarled, poking him in the chest. “You don’t get to tell me you’re bonded to me and then offer to just let me go, like I’m a god-damn package you can return. Like none of this meant anything.”
“That’s not—“
“And you definitely don’t get to lock me in a room to keep me ‘safe’ while you go out there and almost get yourself killed.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. “I’m still mad about that, by the way. And then—”
She cut herself off, looking down. Reaching out, he covered her hands with his and when he spoke, his voice was low and soft in a way she hadn’t heard from him before.
“And then?”
“I mean—” The words were stuck somewhere in her chest, tangled up with the memory of him on his knees with a gun to his head. “When I saw you. In there. With the—”
She couldn’t finish. The tears spilled over, blurring her vision, and she hated it. She hated crying in front of people. She’d learned young that crying didn’t help, didn’t change anything, just made you look weak when you couldn’t afford to be weak.
Strong fingers slid under her chin and tilted her face up.
Thyaar looked at her like she was something impossible. Something precious.
“You were scared for me?” He rumbled, surprise in his eyes. “Would my death have meant something to you?”
She batted his hand away.
“Of course it would mean something to me!” The words came out raw and angry. “I love you, you idiot!”
He went absolutely still, watching her. “What did you say?”
“I love you.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, furious at herself and at him.
“I love you, you stupid idiot of an alien. It’s stupid and I shouldn’t…
I mean what kind of sensible woman falls in love with her bloody alien kidnapper?
It’s been two days. Less than two days. This doesn’t happen in two days. This doesn’t—“
He moved quicker than she could finish the sentence.
One second she was standing there, crying and ranting, and the next his good arm was around her waist and he was pulling her against him.
Close enough to feel his heat through the borrowed shirt, close enough to feel his heart hammering against her chest.
“Shut up,” he said, and bent his head to kiss her.
His mouth was warm and demanding. She made a sound against his lips, surprise or surrender or something in between, she wasn’t sure. His arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer.
Oh god. He could kiss.
His tongue swept into her mouth and her train of thought scattered, her hands fisting in the front of his ruined uniform jacket, her whole body pressed against his.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed and his arm locked around her waist like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.
“Say it again,” he demanded in a rough growl.
“I love you.”
The smile that spread across his face was worth every terrifying moment of the past two days.
The console behind them chirped. Without letting her go, Thyaar reached out and hit a button.
“Vett’an here.”
The voice that came through the speakers was male and military-crisp. “Sub-Commander. The C’Vaal have cut and run, including the ship that was attached to your hull. Do you require assistance?”
Thyaar lifted his head and looked around the bridge. At the bodies, the ruined consoles and at Barnaby, who had reclaimed the pilot’s chair and was curled up asleep as if he hadn’t just helped take down half a pirate boarding party.
He chuckled.
“We’re fine,” he said. “But our engines are damaged. We’re not going anywhere under our own power.”
“We can send over external drive units and provide an escort to your destination. Configuration will take approximately six hours.”
Six hours.
Thyaar looked down at her. His eyes were warm, and his wicked smile made her butterflies riot in her stomach.
“Six hours,” he said, “is absolutely fine.”