Chapter 13
DALOX
Ihave to take her back to her galaxy and to her planet.
Not one single part of me wants to do this task. But I am Sarkarnii. I am of the High Bask. My ancestors will judge me based on every move I make in this life.
I have honor, and I will do as my mate asks me to. She might be mine, but I belong to her in a way even I don’t quite understand, nor expected as my rut burns within me, fighting to get out.
On my back, I can feel every move she makes. I hear the sound of her voice as she shouts in triumph at Vorostor and at the entire universe.
Were any two creatures ever any better of a match than us? Gillian may be tiny and apparently fragile, but she is not, in the same way I may appear fearsome, but I would lick her from toe to scalp if she asked me to.
Probably even if she didn’t ask me.
In fact, I’d do it right now if she wasn’t riding me and my cock wasn’t untouched and waving in the wind.
I want to take myself in hand but as we only have a short flight back to my sector, it’s not something I can do.
Instead I concentrate as hard as I can on the mechanics of space flight and how I’m going to get hold of a ship with stasis pods which would allow a longer voyage, or alternatively one with wormhole detection and mapping in order to get to her galaxy quicker.
I have neither of these two things, not anymore. Nor do I have the means to acquire them…in such a way which means the original owners will be happy to give them up.
As the entrance to my sector comes into view, I see a selection of warriors standing and waiting for me. Including one who absolutely should not be there without my express permission.
“Darax,” I snarl as I land, my wings kicking up the dust which has entered the hangar since this morning.
“Dalox.” He gives me a short bow, his eyes not leaving my Sarkarnii form.
I have fought many warriors in my life, but Darax was and still is my most worthy opponent. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t remove his tail if I had the chance.
“I did not invite you,” I add, suddenly acutely aware of the little female on my back, the heat of her soaking into my skin.
“You did not. I came at the behest of my mate.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “This conversation would be better if you were in your biped form,” he adds.
I lift my head and release a burst of flame. My accelerant is better quality than ever. Making flame feels incredible, and it is extraordinarily easy.
“What’s going on?” Gillian asks, her hand on my scales, the heat from it burning into me.
“This warlord is here without permission,” I say.
“Dalox is in rut for you, little female,” Darax calls out. “And he will be a nevving idiot while he is.”
I could snap him up in my jaws, but he would only shift to bite me back, and I don’t want to risk my mate being caught up in any such battle.
Instead I shift, catch my mate mid-air, place her on her feet, and grab hold of Darax by his neck.
Two of his warriors, also uninvited, step forward, but he holds up a hand to stop them. Which is fortunate, as my own warriors would have easily rendered them unable to eat solid food for a nova-day or so.
“You do not mention my mate,” I growl. “You do not look at her. You do not know her name.”
“That’s going to be difficult because all the human females want to meet her, and I will not be the last warlord to enter your sector uninvited.”
I feel the accelerant building inside me. There’s little point using my flame on Darax. He is as fireproof as the rest of us.
“Your hide is so itchy you want to scratch it off. You feel like you need to flame every nova-minute, and your cock has a new mind of its own,” Darax says in a low voice. “Am I right?”
“You don’t need to tell me about the rut,” I rasp.
“Why? Have you rutted before?” He glares at me, my hand around his throat meaning nothing for his defiance.
“That is none of your concern.”
“My concern is my mate and my sarkarnlings, including the one in her belly. She wishes to see your female, and she will not be stopped.” Darax bares his fangs at me. “If you rut, you will understand.”
I want to pull his head off, but the nevver will probably survive such an injury in order to spite me.
“I want to see them too,” Gillian says from immediately beside me. “I need to talk to them about Earth.”
Both Darax and I look at her.
“I need to find out if any of them want to come with me.”
“Urth?” Darax’s gaze flicks back to me. “You are leaving Vorostor.”
“I am going home.” Gillian glares at him. “I have no desire to stay here.”
I can’t quite work out the expression which passes over Darax’s face. Could it be triumph? Pleasure? Pity?
I release a low, long growl.
“I need to speak to them all, Dalox,” Gillian says quietly. “I can’t go unless I do.”
With a shove, I push Darax back to his warriors.
“Neutral sector, clan hall, one nova-hour,” I growl. “Make sure all the humans are gathered because we are not doing this again.”