Chapter 21
SHUSHING DEADLY WARRIORS (AND OTHER TERRIBLE SURVIVAL STRATEGIES)
ERIKA
Kol is standing in the center of the cavern, bone-axe in hand, and my brain has stalled out at the size of him.
I mean, I already knew he was huge. I spent all of last night pinned under the crushing weight of his chest. I know exactly how broad he is.
But seeing him like this with his amber-gold skin glowing under the sunlight, shoulders wide enough to block out the rest of the cave, addressing his warriors does something unhelpful to my pulse.
His jaw is set. His broad, clawed hands are wrapped around the handle of that axe so tightly the tendons in his forearms stand out in thick cords. His projection to the clan carries so much authority it feels like a physical pressure pressing against the inside of my skull.
But it’s not just him. That’s the problem.
I can hear everyone.
So this is what I was missing. All those weeks we spent terrified of how they communicated without speaking. All those times they stood in a circle, staring at each other in total silence, and we wondered what the hell they were doing.
They were never actually quiet. We were really just locked out.
The mindspace is overwhelmingly loud without actually making a sound, which makes no sense at all.
It feels like there are dozens of towering alien men standing inside my actual brain.
I’m catching physical sensations that don’t even belong to me and they’re all thinking right over top of one another. How is this even possible?
“...you need more meat... your skin is still too cold...” Rok. The thought is sharp, focused, hovering over Justine like an anxious, seven-foot golden guard dog.
Justine’s thought fires back almost instantly.
“Rok, I swear to God, if you bring me one more piece of dried meat I will throw it at your head.” Then she softens and pulls him in.
He goes, his body leaning into hers as if he has no resistance at all.
His hand comes up to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.
“I’m not hungry,” she says aloud, her voice thick with sleep.
“You will be,” Rok projects, his thought firm.
“...move the watchers to the western ridge before Ain climbs higher...” Sarven. His thoughts are icy. Calculating. Pure tactical ice water.
“...is there any of that dried sandfin left?...” Tharn. Hungry, and amused by something I can’t quite untangle from the solid wall of noise.
“...my right fang aches from cracking bone...”
Wait. I press the heels of my hands hard against my temples.
I can actually trace the shape of the thoughts now.
The sluggish, dragging thud of boredom from a guard near the tunnel.
The dull throb of pain from the wounded males near the fire.
The restless, aggressive itch of the warriors sharpening bone-knives along the far wall.
“...the females burn all the good blood from the meat...”
That one comes from Zan. I can feel the shape of his annoyance. It’s prickly, like trying to hug a cactus. He’s complaining.
“How do you people think in here?” I mutter, rubbing my temples.
Across the cavern, Kol’s golden eyes snap to me. He was already watching me—he’s basically always watching me—but the moment I speak, the intensity dials up to a thousand.
He pushes a deep, vibrating rumble straight across the mindspace into my core. The physical pressure of it hits my chest. It doesn’t stop the chatter, but the crushing focus of it shoves the rest of the noise to the edges of my skull.
“Focus on my voice,” his thought vibrates deep in my bones. “Let the rest fade.”
I take a shaky breath and focus on the dark, heated sensation of his projection.
“You look like you got hit by a bus,” Jacqui’s voice drops into my mind. Her mental tone is dry, wry, and deeply sisterly.
“I just heard Zan’s thoughts about breakfast,” I say aloud.
Several warriors sitting near the fire flinch, their long, pointed ears twitching back. I wince. Right. Still too loud for their sensitive hearing. I’m going to have to learn how to keep my out-loud voice down.
“And I want to unhear them immediately,” I whisper.
“You cannot unhear Zan,” Jacqui projects. “Welcome to the mindspace.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a long, slow breath. Right. Okay. I survived a spaceship crash and almost dying in the desert. I can absolutely figure out how to survive a telepathic connection with a clan of aliens. I just need a minute to adapt.
The morning routine continues as usual. Or what passes for usual in a cave full of recovering alien warriors who are barely holding back the urge to go sprinting into the desert and rip things apart with their razor-sharp claws.
I walk toward the back of the cavern to check on the women, and almost immediately, things get weird.
A warrior crouching near the fire pit sees me coming. His left arm is wrapped thick in a blood-soaked hide, and he’s sharpening a spear. The second I step within ten feet of him, he stops and inclines his head in acknowledgement.
It’s the exact same gesture they give Kol.
I stop and stare at him, my brow knitting. No warrior has ever done that to me before. I’ve only seen them do that to Kol. I watch as the Drakav before me holds the position for a solid second, then straightens up and goes right back to the spear as if he hadn’t just inclined his head to me.
I blink.
Okay. Weird.
I keep walking. Near the water basin, two warriors step out of my way before I even have to ask. Both of them incline their heads. One of them actually shifts his huge bone-axe to his other hand so the sharp edge isn’t pointed anywhere near me.
At the far wall, another warrior sees me approach, lowers his golden eyes, and inclines his head with a sharp jerk.
It takes four more identical gestures before my brain finally catches up.
Oh my God. I’m alien First Lady. No. Worse. I’m alien queen. Nobody voted for this. I didn’t campaign. I don’t even have a speech prepared. I let Kol rearrange my insides last night, and suddenly I have actual subjects.
When I fill my waterskin and head back into the main cavern, I catch Jacqui’s eye from across the cave. She takes one look at my face and her mouth twitches.
She definitely knows what I’m thinking.
I swallow hard, feeling slightly dizzy, and keep moving. I will absolutely panic about being an alien queen later. Right now, I have problems to solve.
Mira intercepts me near the sleeping alcoves. She’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. She grabs my wrist, her fingers pressing tight against my pulse.
“Erika,” she says, eyes wide. “How do you feel? Your color is back. Are you zero-level on nausea? What about the headaches?”
I frown. Funny how you don’t miss your health until something goes wrong. The headache and nausea had been plaguing me since I stepped foot on this planet and now they’re gone and I didn’t even realize.
“I feel...great,” I blink, frowning a little to focus on that spot just behind my eyes where the headache would target.
But my head doesn’t throb. There’s no phantom dizziness when I move.
I feel one-hundred-percent healthy. Better than healthy.
I feel strong. Vibrant. Like I could run through the dust and not collapse within a second.
“No pain,” I confirm. “No nausea. I feel... amazing.” I look down at my hands, flexing my fingers. “I feel like I could punch through a wall.”
Mira nods, but her gaze drifts across the cavern, and the excitement drops off her face.
My gut twists.
The other women are still huddled together. Pam is shivering, hugging her arms tightly across her chest, even though the cave is sweltering. Tina keeps rubbing her temples. Lucy’s hands are shaking so badly she can barely hold the waterskin to her lips.
“They’re not doing so good,” Mira says quietly, and the dejection seeping into her voice sits in my gut.
“I don’t know what to do, Erika. The extra firebloom isn’t helping anymore.
The fevers won’t break.” She swallows hard, pulling her gaze away from the women.
“This is the part where Alex would tell me what to do.”
Alex’s name echoes somewhere raw.
I press the spike of panic down. “We’re going to get her back.”
“But what about them?” Mira gestures hopelessly at the other women. “The only ones recovering are the ones who... you know. The ones with a mate.”
She studies me for a long time. “I don’t think we’re getting rescued, Erika...”
My throat tightens even more. “No, I don’t think we are.”
Mira lets out a shuddering exhale. “So what do we do?”
I don’t know what to do. But as my gaze moves around the cavern, landing on Drakav who incline their heads at me the moment our gazes lock, before landing on the one male who my heart apparently knew was mine before I did, the answer comes to me.
“We don’t wait for the women to adapt,” I say slowly, the pieces falling into place. “We make the Drakav adapt to them.”
Mira frowns. “How do we do that?”
“By telling them to,” I say. I look back at Kol, feeling the solid, thrumming weight of him surround me in the mindspace.
“I’m their queen now, I suppose. Which means they have to listen to me.
We don’t force anyone to mate, but I can absolutely order these warriors to sit down and just actively guard them.
Proximity therapy. No pressure, no expectations. Just... biochemical exposure.”
Mira’s eyes widen as she catches on. “If they just spend time near them, their bodies might stabilize enough to break the fevers?”
“Exactly.” I nod, determination finally cutting through the panic. “Kol already implemented a buddy system. We just amp that up. It’ll be exactly like a kindergarten field trip, except your assigned buddy can rip a throat out with his bare hands. We start today.”