Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Waking up beside his truemate was something Illan had never hoped for, not until Iddan met Cyndi. The remarkable had occurred, which meant Illan could search for his dhutya among humans. As wonderful as his female friends were, he’d wanted a Durn female.
And Elorach had answered his unspoken longing.
Ziamee was his, had agreed to be his. He gathered her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This contentment that consumed his soul was incredible. She was bold, fearless, courageous, stubborn, caring, vulnerable, quick to anger, and yet, she was worth everything and more.
Perhaps he was rushing things.
He snorted. Yes, he was. The gift came first, permission given by her parents, then a ceremonial dinner. They’d done none of that. And she deserved to experience it all.
He scowled. She hadn’t grown up knowing what to expect, but he had.
When he slipped off the bed, he fixed his gaze on her face while he listened for a change in her breathing.
He shook himself out of his daze, having lost himself in admiring her…
his female. Never had he expected this blessing.
He trailed his fingers down her cheek, pure love for her filling every bit of his soul.
Even though he’d chosen the dishonorable path, taking her body before he’d secured her heart and future, he’d fight to keep her. He wanted this finalized, not needing to start their new life together on an unstable note.
After a quick cleanse, he dressed and peeked into her room, finding her still asleep.
In Etterian armor, a med-gun in his pocket, the dagger in his boot, and a blaster strapped to his thigh, he strode to the common. Coll stood in medical, his focus on the display vids.
“How is she?” Illan asked, settling beside his soon-to-be mother.
“Many tiny scars, perhaps from claws, and minor abrasions from being mishandled. Overall, despite her recent…adventure, she is in better condition than Amet.” Coll glanced up. “I suspect it is the variety of plants she consumed.”
Illan squared his shoulders. Time to reveal his lack of control. “Is she ready to be awoken?”
“Yes.” Coll tapped his tablet.
As Faerar lowered to the bed, the dome withdrew.
She stretched, then smiled at nothing. “Amazing,” she whispered. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she bowed her head at Coll. “All’s well?”
“Yes, milady.”
“Good.” She locked gazes with Illan. “I assume you want to talk?” She waved her hand at him. “Without Ziamee beside you, that can only mean you want privacy.”
Coll jerked, whipped up his head, then sighed. He took the tablet with him and disappeared into his quarters to the rear of medical.
“I would like permission to life-fuse with Ziamee.”
Faerar stilled. She gasped, splayed her fingers across her chest, then huffed a laugh. “I knew it. Come to realize what she makes you feel?”
“Yes.”
She patted her chest in applause. “Excellent.”
“A dhutyani will follow.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, Illan, not after what we’ve survived.
And my daughter finding a truemate was an impossible dream.
Ziamee’s happiness is paramount, of course.
If she chooses you, then so shall I.” She extended her hand and pressed her palm to his shoulder, as per tradition. “Yes, permission granted.”
His breath exhaled. Relief flooded him. “I am happy,” he said and meant it. “We may have…started the process.”
Her eyes widened, then she threw back her head and laughed. “The enthusiasm of the young.”
“You are not upset?” His heartbeat paused while he waited.
“Not at all.” She stepped back, fiddling with the fabric of her garment. “Amet might be, but I’m not.”
“Illan?”
Flutters filled his chest at Ziamee’s voice coming through his O.D.I.
“Your mother is awake, ohara.”
The warmth of Ziamee’s chuckle bathed him. “Excellent. Let me cleanse.”
He brought his wrist to his mouth to whisper, “Without me?” He smirked. “Hurry. We need to tell her.” Sadness stabbed him at the task that lay before him. It wasn’t getting easier.
“She’s awake?” Faerar asked.
“Yes. Would you like a kandyru?” He cupped her elbow and ushered her toward the common’s trestle table. “We have…news.”
She faltered. “Who’s dying? Amet?”
“He is well,” Illan said, letting her sink onto the bench.
“Welcome, Faerar.” Oz’s voice filled the common.
She squeaked, raising her gaze to the ceiling. “Oz?”
“Indeed. Brac has relocated me to this ship and reconnected me to the Haile.”
Faerar beamed. “It’s good to speak to you, old friend.”
“Much has changed,” Oz said.
Her chin dipped. “As they must.”
“Would you like to call Amet?”
She scoffed. “No, not at the moment.”
“Very well.” Oz fell silent.
“Is she on her way?” Faerar asked Illan, rising to order a tisane from the rehydrator.
“She is.” He waited until she sat, this time with a cup cradled in her hands. Then he ordered a fruit juice and a meal for Ziamee and himself.
“It’s been so long,” Faerar said, taking a sip and humming. “There’s so many things I’m so grateful for, Illan. You’re one of them.”
“Mudya, did you sleep well?” Ziamee asked, striding toward them. She too wore her armor, no doubt coming to the same conclusion to be prepared for anything this day.
“Better than I have in a long while. I feel…energized, like I could accomplish much today. Come, sit. Illan’s too serious.”
Ziamee trailed her hand over his shoulder as she passed him, choosing the spot beside him.
He pushed the plate toward her and broke off a triangle for himself.
Time slowed as she ran a heated gaze over him.
She parted her mouth to lick her bottom lip, her cheeks paling.
Memories of last night flooded his mind, hardening his arousal and sending heat through him.
He brushed a kiss across her temple and mumbled, “If you keep ogling me like that, you will delay this discussion with your mother.”
Ziamee pouted, then glanced at the plate. “What’s this?”
“A grilled cheese sandwich,” he said, taking a bite.
She did the same and closed her eyes on a sigh. “So good. That chess stuff again?”
“Cheese,” he said, chuckling.
She snorted, giving him a pointed look. “That’s what I said.”
“All right, what happened?” Faerar asked, switching glances between Illan and Ziamee.
“The Maloidians who stole you, they guard a weapon. Probables say they might have been the ones to fire it.” Illan glanced at Ziamee when she squeezed his hand resting on her knee.
“Mudya must see the cannon, Illan. Telling her isn’t enough.”
“You are right, ohara.” He grimaced. “Perhaps it is best we port planetside.”
“It’s that bad?” Faerar frowned and shoved aside her cup. “Show me what tangles your tongue in fear.”
Ziamee jumped to her feet, a triangle clenched between her teeth. “I don’t want to arrive there on my ass,” she muttered. “Like last time.”
He grinned and rose before waiting for Faerar to do the same. While touching them both, he called to the ceiling, “Ulta, port three to the facility.”
Faerar gasped when they appeared on the metal walkway. “That’s still amazing.” She twirled on the spot, her gaze on the surrounding forest. “I didn’t get a chance to find out where they’d taken me. This is north, you say?”
“Yes, of the Haile’s location,” Ziamee said. “Where we crashed is an ancient crater. I’ve always been curious about the rest of the planet. Padya’s drone disappeared over the waterfall.”
“No doubt shot down,” Illan said, pressing a hand to her lower back.
She gaped, her eyes widening. “Yes!”
“Let us continue,” he said, gesturing to the door.
They clambered down the stairs, no one speaking until Faerar reached the level where the genkoo had begun to grow.
She paused, leaning in to study the plant. “What manner of flora is this?”
“Maloidian,” Illan said. “We have information on most of the galaxy. Etterians are renowned travelers.”
Her head whipped up, and she grinned at Illan. “Wonderful.”
“Oh, and be warned, we brought Amet in. We need all the help we can get.”
She almost missed a step. “This must be unhappy news, then.”
She strolled through the open door and came to stand in the center of the common.
On the display vids above the console, schematics flashed along with streams of data.
One vid had Brac at the base of the weapon, studying the platform’s controls.
Amet leaned close to a vid, flicking slowly through the data.
“I am glad you are well,” he said, glancing at her.
Their expressions morphed as they conversed along their private connection.
Illan drew Ziamee into his arms and rested his chin on her head. “Think they will forgive each other?”
“Eventually,” she said into the curve of his neck, her breath fanning his skin. “This’s too important not to.”
“Think your father will forgive me?” He grimaced. “I did not ask his permission first.”
She faced him and cupped his cheek, then rising onto her toes, she caught his mouth with hers in a kiss that tantalized and didn’t satisfy. “He has no say. Besides”—she smirked—“it’s too late. You’re mine, and I’m keeping you.”
He chuckled, pulling away before he took her somewhere private. “Indeed.” The urge to sterilize the facility was what circled his mind.
Faerar gasped, a sob escaped, and tears flowed, but she ignored them, sifting through the data Amet showed her. “No, no, it can’t be true.” She flung herself into his arms and wept.
Ziamee tightened her grip, almost crushing Illan’s fingers. He tugged her closer. She rested her temple on his shoulder and drew in calming breaths.
“It’s hard to see my mother crying,” she whispered. “Only something this devastating could crack her armor.”
“Or losing you.” He tightened his hold on her, keeping her near. “I could embrace you for an eternity, but…” He pulled back to pinch her chin, shifting her gaze to his. “Action helps, so let us clear this facility for habitation. A place to sleep and eat would be appreciated.”