Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Illan’s emotions were illogical. He knew this, and yet, he couldn’t control his reactions. Ziamee touching Brac had his thoughts reeling, and his vision tainted red with anger. The hope in her voice that a male might find her attractive had skewered his heart.
No one better claim you, he wanted to roar.
Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to bite his tongue.
All she wanted was someone to love her, no doubt, even though she couldn’t put that longing into words.
Her parents had failed to explain any of this.
He fully expected her not to know where children came from, how important the continuation of the Durn people was, and her part in it.
The urge to hold her again made his fingers twitch.
The way she burrowed into his embrace, the nuzzling of her cheek against his chest, how she’d trusted him…
No, this was madness. He shouldn’t find her innocence appealing, not when he admired confidence.
Quin had conquered a crewed Yithian slave ship and beat the odds, taking control as if she’d been born to it.
But… He hadn’t needed to earn her trust when they’d been mind-fused.
Doing so to Ziamee would have expedited everything. She’d be beside him now with conviction, instead of arguing or misunderstanding him.
Think her objectionable?
She had no idea how untrue that was. As evident by her constantly disrobing, exposing her beautiful body to his attentive gaze.
He did ache for her. Far too intensely and too quickly for his liking.
Again, he missed Iddan’s quiet presence.
Not that Iddan could advise Illan in this matter.
They’d been mind-fused when they’d met Cyndy.
Illan had tried to distance himself from their heart palpitations, intimate thoughts, teasing words, knowing smiles, heated glances, and eager touches.
He shook his head, fighting for clarity.
When Ziamee joined him, bringing the scents of the lake, sunlight, and soil, he pressed the panel to access the blasters. He withdrew one, keeping his gaze on her face. Her eyes widened, and a tremulous smile crawled across her features.
“The buttons and colors change the blaster’s function.
’ He tapped the closest one. She crowded him, studying the weapon in his hand.
“Yellow to stun. If you click and hold, it changes the intensity, depending on the size of the target. Red for kill, blue unlocks anything electronic, and white will trigger the weapon’s self-destruction.
” He offered it to her, ensuring the stun was set to default.
She gaped, hefting it. “It’s heavy. I hadn’t noticed that the last time I held one.”
He knelt, sliding his hands around her thigh as he undid the built-in straps on her pants that would holster the blaster.
A slight tremble beneath his fingers had him raising his gaze to hers.
She gave him the weapon, her smile wide.
When he leaned back to admire his handiwork, she bounced on the spot.
“I’ll have to get used to the weight,” she said, then laughed. “Logically, I’ll have to relearn my balance with my healed legs anyway.” Her humor faded. “Thank you for insisting on helping me when I was making it difficult for you to do so.”
“I have been a prisoner. I know what it is like to lose hope, to distrust everything and everyone. And you were alone, with no one to come to your rescue. You were wise to be cautious.” He stood and opened another closet that housed mounted blades.
An eating dagger made the best choice considering her hand size.
The Ferusi gem embedded in the hilt might help convince her not to choose a much larger dagger.
“Too small?” he asked when she stroked the deep green stone.
“Too pretty,” she said, eyeing the more lethal-looking blades.
“But there are no plain small ones. As much as I wish I could take a bigger dagger, I must be able to wield it. Won’t the Etterians mind you giving away something so…
” She bit her lip and cast her gaze at Coll and Brac marching to the shuttle bay.
“We are Durn,” Illan said around the lump in his throat. Anger fought with the fire in his belly. That she valued the garments, weapons, and a med-gun said much about her suffering.
“You keep saying that,” she mumbled, palming the dagger, then running her thumb over the gem. “Do you think we’ll find my father?”
“Yes.” But alive? Illan wasn’t sure. The heat signature had flickered. Not a good sign. They were running out of time.
“Ready?” Brac asked, hovering in the doorway to the bay.
Illan closed the panels and faced the male. “If the equipment is not too cumbersome to port.”
“Very well. We will port without you, secure the anchor, then I will return for the kuta to scout our next destination.” He left, venturing deeper into the bay. The door shut behind him.
Illan gestured to Seba. “Sink your fingers into his fur until you reach his skin.”
After she knelt to do so, he activated his O.D.I., then touched her shoulder. “Three to port, Ulta. Return us to the ship.”
When they materialized beside the dead fire, Seba jerked awake and glared at Illan. With a harrumph, he sauntered into the bushes. A glance at the sun showed it to be mid-afternoon. They needed to hurry. Getting trapped in the cavern to wait out the night wasn’t a preferable outcome.
“Greetings, Ziamee and Illan,” Oz said.
“Don’t target Brac and Coll, Oz. They’re here to help,” she said, studying the large pile of kreso haunches set beside the fire pit.
“Acknowledged.”
“Good. Any news?” she asked, leaning into the battered ship.
“Nothing.”
Her shoulders slumped an inch before she swiveled on a heel and marched toward Illan. “Let’s go.”
He caught her elbow. “What is the matter?”
“I was hoping Padya had found his way home.” She glanced away, hoping to hide her tears. When she met his gaze, she chuckled though her humor didn’t warm her eyes. “I swear this planet’s trying to kill me.”
“Fear the dark?” he asked, wanting to understand where that comment stemmed from.
“No.” She strode ahead. “Scared of the truth,” she tossed over her shoulder.
He trailed her, not about to assure her when he wasn’t confident either.
Her father could be dead or near to it. And perhaps her thinking that would add caution to her movements.
He half expected her to propel down and leap from rock to rock to reach her father.
But talking her out of going with him wasn’t possible.
She’d set her jaw, raised her chin, and squared her shoulders when she’d announced her intention to come with.
Arguing would have been futile. And what he knew about her, it would have set her stance in stone.
As they climbed toward the crevice, her swaying backside filled his vision.
He’d forgotten to ask Coll to assess his mental state.
This heat she evoked was far too addictive and intriguing.
He wanted to test these urges even though he calculated a fifty-two percent chance of disappointment.
Still, with the way his breath hitched at the idea of it, he had to try. But first, her father…
Brac waited beside a Maloidian anchor hammered into the rock.
It sat flush with the ground. Illan could only assume the metal had gone in with ease.
After all, Etterians used Maloidian blades to slice the Fuyra rock they mined.
Ropes were tied to the anchor and around Coll.
Two more such harnesses awaited Illan and Ziamee.
Brac fitted them, his movements efficient and not invasive.
Illan watched, vigilant, ready to strike should Brac’s touch linger on Ziamee’s body like Illan longed to.
Coll balanced on the edge with his heels, then disappeared into the darkness.
“Milady?” Brac caught her wrist and guided her toward the crevice.
She drew in a deep breath, then with amazing agility, she mimicked Coll’s movements.
“I would prefer to go first,” Illan said, halting Brac from connecting her to the anchor.
She opened her mouth to argue, glanced into the hole, then stepped aside.
Illan studied her while Brac latched him to the anchor before he dropped through.
Pitch black engulfed his vision in an instant.
His senses roared, panic simmering. His instincts went on high alert.
He skidded down with steadiness, hand over hand as he lowered himself.
What awaited him, he couldn’t say. How far he had to go was also an unknown.
“Amet?” Coll’s voice echoed yet was distant.
Peace settled over Illan’s mind. He wasn’t alone. And with Ziamee following him, he had to remain calm and in control. The ropes jiggled with movements not his own, straining his arms as he fought for stability.
“How far?” he yelled down.
Coll called, “Keep going.”
Illan scowled. To be fair, Coll couldn’t know how far up Illan was.
Still, the vague instructions didn’t help, not with Ziamee above him.
A bright light forced him to blink. Then another way off came into focus.
Coll had thrown out flares. All landed on ledges.
Illan pursed his lips. He should’ve remembered that Etterians had preternatural eyesight in the dark.
That the older medic had thought to distribute flares said much of his and Brac’s consideration for a species with weaker vision.
“Halt at the next chance,” Coll yelled. “A lake is below. I am tracking the male’s life signs.”
As a ledge approached, Illan threw out his foot to hook it, then step by step, pulled himself onto it. He raised his gaze, still keeping the rope taut. It whipped in his hand when Ziamee took the ledge above him.
“What is it?” she asked, peering at him, her face in shadow.
“Coll says there is water everywhere.” Illan inched back until he bumped into the rock. “Come to me.”
She hesitated, then lowered herself. A yank from above sent her swinging wide. She cried out even as he lunged for her, catching her just as her grip failed.
Her foot touched his ledge…
Then she tumbled off.
He dove for her, plastering himself across the rock, and caught her hand.
An explosion of need flashed in front of his eyes, flickering images of her arched in ecstasy, her mouth parted, her eyes hooded. A breast filled his mouth, his focus on her eyes. A sweet moan ricocheted in his ears. He shook his head.
His kok hardened with lust throbbing along the length. His core tightened, and breathing was a distant hope. A shudder shook him, but he fought it, trying to secure her before his body betrayed him.
Gazing off the edge at her wide eyes, he should’ve expected an erotic reaction with how he felt about her. Palm to palm was to be avoided if a male liked a female unless she consented to a mating.
Pulling her up to clasp her forearm broke the connection.
With her feet touching the rock, he spun and pinned her to the wall, groaning when he pressed his chest to hers. Her scent filled his nose, her warmth bathed his skin, and his mind reeled.
“What… What was that?” she rasped, her touch at his elbows sparking a new pulse of need.
“The Durn way,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. They’d been moments from sharing their pleasure.
“It was incredible. Can we do it again?”
Illan opened his mouth to speak, but she stroked his jaw, stealing his voice. Durns mated telepathically, yet her touch invoked a more visceral response. He wanted to do both, to mate with her in their minds while he thrust his kok into her like Cyndy had taught Iddan.
He swallowed a growl.
This wasn’t the right place and time. But what was possible… Despite his better judgment, he caught her lips with his, though not sure what to do. She angled her head, meeting his onslaught without fear.
His knees shook. The taste of her… Elorach, he’d never encountered anything more addictive.
While grinding his kok into the juncture of her thighs, he thrust his tongue into her mouth, soaking in her silky warmth.
She garbled something, then sucked him in deeper.
His mind blanked. All thoughts abandoned him as every muscle locked in place.
She was liquid heat in his arms. He laced his fingers with hers, pressing their palms together.
The visions were immediate, impressions of everything he yearned to do to her.
She whimpered, sliding her other arm around him even as she hooked her leg over his hip.
Desire lashed at his control, weakening it until he gathered her close to shift her, taking her to the ground.
Tugging registered at the edges of his mind, but fiery bliss shot down his kok, keeping him engrossed on the goal—the pleasure between her legs.
Solid weight nudged him, and the familiar stink of a beast snapped him from his lust-filled haze.
She broke the kiss. “Seba? But how—” She gaped, her gaze settling on Illan. Since he had her trapped to the ledge, the flare coated them in light. “I…ache for you. Why’s that? What did you do to me?”
He closed his eyes and wrestled with his control, willing his kok to calm. “I will explain another time. Why is Seba here?” He pushed himself off her, wincing at missing her softness beneath him.
She sat up. “How should I know?”
“Lack of harness says Brac did not lower him. Which means…” Illan arched a brow at her.
“That he knows a way into the cavern.” She clambered to her feet. Her taut nipples tenting her tunic shouldn’t be something he noted.
He wanted out of this place fast. Having her near him, her scent tantalizing him, but unable to finish what he’d started was worse than the torture the Yithians had inflicted.
“Coll?” he called, grabbing Ziamee by her harness and nudging her toward the edge. “We are coming down. Toss a flare to guide us.”
No reply came, but a light burst into life.
“Aim for that,” he said to her.
“What about Seba?” she asked.
“He is too heavy for either of us to hold him.” Illan scratched the creature along his jaw, half grateful he’d interrupted them. “And judging by his presence, he knows the way down.”
“I’ll go, but see if he follows.” Off she went.
Seba whined, peered after her, then bolted. Illan hesitated. He’d have liked to know where the path was, but he wasn’t certain whether he could navigate it. Instead, he repelled off the side, his focus on the flare below. When his feet touched soil, Ziamee wasn’t waiting for him.
Darkness of another kind gripped him. Fear.
“Ziamee?” he bellowed, spinning on the spot.