Chapter 23
STRON
“You’re quiet over there,” Adryel said as she smoothed her dress out. Something he noticed she did when she was antsy. He understood. They’d been through a lot in the last few hours.
“Just thinking,” Stron said, taking her hand.
She squeezed his fingers, glanced out the window, but kept talking. “About the Baron?”
Their transport, piloted by one of The Baron’s guards, flew them over the city, heading toward the platform that Dhomhes had organized for the retrieval of all the off-worlders.
A bit outside of the main province, it was fairly remote. Enough that Dhomhes claimed he could control the situation better.
That’s what he said at least.
Stron wasn’t sure that anything could really be controlled at this point.
More like managed, than anything.
“Baron Aukrae is a good friend.”
“He must be, this is a pretty nice transport that he’s got, zooming us out to this platform.” She ran her free hand over the seat’s plush trimmings.
Stron smiled. “It is a nicer one.”
She tipped her head to the side, those red curls around her face fluttering in the processed air in the sealed transport. “That’s not what you’re thinking about, though.”
Stron shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” He couldn’t help a small smile at her observation.
“You’re still kind of freaked out about the mate thing, aren’t you?” she asked.
He paused before answering her.
Was she always this perceptive? Would she always be this perceptive of him? If so, mating and Courtship would take on a whole other experience for him.
“I’m not freaked out,” he replied.
“You’re concerned, though.”
“I am ill at ease about your safety as my mate.” It seemed like a reasonable answer. It was a truth.
Not the entirety of it, but true enough.
Which gave him yet another thing to ponder. He’d always kept himself distant in relationships of any form. To now be mated, to be entering Courtship? There is a level of vulnerability that comes with that level of connection.
Something he would have to learn how to do.
He looked at Adryel. Really looked at her.
She truly was a stunning beauty. The little dots—freckles, she’d called them–covered her face. Eyes that saw him.
Really saw him.
She smiled at him, a playful grin on her face. “You think I can’t handle you?” she asked, and held up her fists like she was going to punch him. “I’ll have you know, I can handle myself.”
He shook his head, and smiled. “You have already proven your ability to handle yourself–”
"And you,” she interjected, that sparkle in her eye that he’d seen after their knotting. And during.
An expression that made him want to tell the guard to forget everything, and take them to his home. Or even a hotel.
Someplace they could be alone again.
So he could feel her. Kiss her.
Take her again.
“And me,” he replied, leaning in. He laid a hand on her leg, feeling the curve.
“I can handle whatever you want to dish out, big guy,” she said, flicking his horn with her fingers.
He leaned a little closer to her and slid his hand into her hair. She tipped her head up.
He accepted the invitation, and kissed her.
It wasn’t intense.
Correction, it wasn’t inappropriate. It was just enough to remind him that yes, this was his mate.
Whether he wanted to believe it or not.
The taste of her was just as intense as it had been the first time he kissed her.
Yet more.
He caressed her cheek, a tendril of curls slipping into his grip as they kissed and she sighed against his lips.
“We should stop,” she whispered.
“We should,” he answered. When she started to pull away, he grimaced, not liking that they had to behave.
As she turned away from him, his horns tangled in her curls.
She started to laugh as they pulled the hair apart.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” she said with a grin. “I probably should have put it back up.”
“Don’t restrain it,” he said, stroking a curl.
She pulled her hair around her shoulder, away from him. “Seriously, though,” she said, combing her hair out of his fingers, and evidently some had curled around the tip of one of his horns. “This is going to be everywhere. We’re always going to get tangled together. I could get it cut off.”
“Do not even consider it,” he snapped. More forcefully than he should have, from the look on her face.
She raised an eyebrow, her voice low and calm, which made it sound like a threat. “You don’t get to tell me how to look.”
He sighed. “I will not complain about your hair getting tangled around my horns. I don’t care if it gets wrapped around my horns every day.” He met her gaze. “As long as they’re my horns. That is all that matters.”
“So, uh, I couldn’t get my hair all wrapped around, say, the, uh, guard up there?”
Stron’s gaze cut to the guard, and back. “No.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And you are obstinate.”
“What a pair we make,” she said, smiling at him.
“What a piece of junk,” Adryel whispered as they arrived at the platform.
Stron nodded. “Not what I would have expected.” In the distance, he saw Dhomhes speaking to a crewmember of the transport–a miner from the looks of him.
Across the platform, another transport arrive, and girls started coming out.
Adryel was already looking, he guessed for her friend.
“Is Janae with them?” Stron asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t see her yet.”
“They’re probably coming on their own transport.”
“That makes sense.”
Still, she was searching. Looking for her friend. Her nose turned up, and she grimaced. “What is that smell?”
“The refineries,” Khalzin said as he walked up with Janae.
Janae and Adryel embraced, and both started talking to each other, rapid fire.
Stron tried for a second to listen, but they were talking too fast.
At least, until they both stopped, and looked at him.
Both women’s gazes ran over him.
“Huh,” Janae said.
“Let me say, he’s not who he pretends to be.”
Both girls started giggling and headed toward the other women.
“What was that?” Khalzin asked.
“We are in Courtship. I feel I have no idea what anything is anymore,” Stron said, shaking his head.
Khalzin grinned. “Congratulations. I would advise something, but I have none to give. My own experiences have been less than stellar with Courtship.” His gaze ran over his mate, and Stron did the same, glancing at Adryel.
“We should get this moving,” Stron said, “Get these females to safety.” He shook his head. Several Kantenan guards stood spread out on the platform. Some of the females avoided them, but they were only there as a perimeter of protection.
The intricacies of moving these humanoids to the refineries was by far more complex than any of them had wanted.
With this many, there were still quite a few who knew what was going on, no matter how quickly and quietly they tried to move them.
He still didn’t think this was the right choice.
They were going to be out in the open. Again.
Not the best track record so far for this entire process.
Stron shook his head. "I cannot believe you agreed to this," he said as they walked up the mining transport's ramp. The family crest–Dhomhes’s crest–had worn off the side, covered in a layer of dust and ore that would probably never really wash away.
He glanced around, but not because he was inspecting the scene.
Not exactly anyway.
No, he was watching for her. Adryel. His mate.
He still felt odd about the idea. As a concept.
She, however, made other feelings come to life in him. Ones he’d not known before. Protection. Desire.
The need to know where she was…
Which was…
There. Good. Adryel was moving with the other females toward the ramp, her red hair impossible to miss even in the crowd.
"What other option do we have? They have to be kept safe." Khalzin said, interrupting his thoughts.
"But the dark side of Kantenan? Where all the refineries are?" Stron replied. He hadn’t been back there in years, and he hated the atmosphere. "Already I can smell it, and it is disgusting. They will hate it there."
Dhomhes came over, looking clean and smelling fresh, not at all like the transport that he’d secured. "Safest place on Kantenan to be."
"How do you figure?" Stron asked.
"No one would dare put a bomb in a Kantenan refinery. It would blow up half the planet.” Dhomhes said, continuing like they both were idiots.
“The unrefined citricite requires very special care because of its volatile nature before it's refined.
No matter how desperate they are to get rid of the Galactic Alliance presence, they won't attack them there. "
The smugness on Dhomhes’s face made Stron want to knock it off of him.
"You seem very certain."
Dhomhes raised his dark eyebrow. "Never been more certain.
They won't let anything happen to them, I promise.
My father is the Protector of the New Kingdom, remember?
His entire place in the Coalition is to protect and speak for the refinery and their workers.
" He crossed his arms, looking a little too prideful.
"And make sure the citricite continues to be produced," Stron said. True enough-if citricite stopped being produced then Kantenan would lose their biggest and most valuable asset, and galactic export.
"I promise you that no one in the Coalition wants the profits to stop. So, the refineries are the safest place on Kantenan right now."
He had a point.
Stron wasn't crazy about the idea, for the same reasons that Dhomhes believed it was safe — the dangerous nature of citricite. It could easily blow up and kill a great deal of humanoids. Kantenan or otherwise.
But they had very few options. The Coalition was keeping the planet closed from incoming or outgoing transports for the time being.
At least until this has been worked out.
The three of them stepped aboard the ship, where the cargo bay had been converted into a passenger zone, with rows of seats. The humanoid females took their places and started strapping themselves in.
His eyes went straight to Adryel, finding her immediately the way they always seemed to now. She was seated near the rear with Janae, her curls loose around her shoulders. She caught him looking and raised an eyebrow. He looked away.
Kantenan guards surrounded the perimeter of the passenger area, and the Galactic Alliance passengers filled most of the seats. The passengers were nervous. Fidgety.
Everyone on this transport knew that this could be the smartest thing they could do to protect them, or the dumbest.
“Did you arrange an escort?” Stron asked.
Dhomhes raised his eyebrow. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“I don’t know what you’ve been experiencing the last few days, but I’ve been attacked multiple times, nearly died a few of them. So the question is valid.”
Dhomhes shook his head. “You worry too much.”
He glanced back again, and while he didn’t see Adryel’s face, he saw her hair. The curls fluttered, like they did.
Stron looked back at Dhomhes. “Or not enough.”