Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Colm stood by Kavon’s side in the great hall. His hair was still wet from washing, and he was wearing new leather trousers—ones not stained with the blood of his hunt.
With his enhanced hearing, he could tell a group was approaching from the corridor outside. Footsteps and quiet murmurs.
Aurina entered first. The former deep-space scout was smiling, her pale skin glowing and her sunset-colored hair falling around her shoulders.
When her gaze fell on her bondmate, her smile widened.
Today, she was wearing typical Markarian dress—a leather corset and a long skirt that hit at mid-calf.
She usually wore pants and shirts, but she’d had to accommodate the growing mound of her belly.
Kavon was going to be a father. Colm slid his hands behind his back, his fingers lacing tightly together. He was happy for his friend. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Kavon. But the idea was like salt into a wound Colm didn’t even know he had.
He would never be a father.
Aurina’s laughter brought him back. When Kavon wasn’t dragging her to their rooms, she spent most of her time helping with Kavon’s mining operations. The woman was fascinated with rocks, and now assisted the mining superintendent.
The man who followed Aurina into the hall was tall and broad across the shoulders, with dark hair.
This had to be Niklas Phoenix. If he’d been born on Markaria, he would have been a warrior.
To think he was a scholar was strange. His blue gaze moved around the hall in a way that told Colm the man had catalogued everything in an instant.
For a second, Colm didn’t really pay attention to the woman by Phoenix’s side, but once Colm focused on her, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her the second she’d moved into the hall.
She moved like the darken beasts. A smooth, steady glide with the promise she could explode into action.
She wore some sort of dark armor that molded to her tall, slim form.
Markarians all had dark shades of hair and dark bronze skin.
This woman had hair like moonlight and eyes the color of jewels in a box.
And she was deadly.
Colm tensed, his hand itching to reach for his sword. He was a warrior, and even without his nanami buzzing at him, he sensed danger.
“Be nice,” he heard Phoenix murmur to the woman.
She didn’t respond.
Another woman stepped forward. Colm turned his attention to her and his eyes narrowed.
She looked almost as deadly as the first, even though they were a complete contrast. She wore a black-and-gray uniform, and stood with a straight spine.
Where the first woman was lean, this woman’s uniform was filled with toned curves.
Colm let himself look. Markarian women were leaner and muscular, so he found the curves… intriguing.
Not that this woman was soft. Far from it. She was younger than the other, and the way she held herself—she kept her feet spread, her balance even—he could tell she was ready to react. She had laser pistols holstered at her hips, and some strange black cylinder dangled from her belt.
Her hair… He sucked in another breath. It looked like sunlight and gold. It was pulled back tightly in a long tail that swayed behind her. Her skin was a golden color, and her face was alert and serious—he didn’t think she was here to enjoy herself.
Her gaze lifted and met his. Colm held it. Her eyes were a fascinating pale green.
He saw her nostrils flare, like she was scenting the air…scenting him. He suppressed a frown. She couldn’t have nanami like Markarians, so was she enhanced in some other way?
It was a little mystery he intended to solve.
“Ho-ly cow.” The piping voice broke the silence. A young girl pushed forward and did a graceful twirl. “This place is rocking. Almost like a castle.” A gusty sigh. “I always wanted to live in a castle.”
Colm’s eyes widened. This girl was in her late teens, and her hair was a shocking shade of pink. Like the flower of a wenga vine.
The girl’s bold gaze landed on Colm, taking in his chest and form in a way that made him damned uncomfortable.
“Holy muscles.” She peered at him more closely. “Big guy, your muscles have muscles.”
Phoenix cleared his throat. “Lala…it’s polite to greet people before you start commenting on their appearance.” He shook his head. “Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t comment on anyone’s appearance.”
The pink-haired girl shrugged and pulled something from her shirt pocket. She popped it in her mouth and started chewing. “You got it, Nik. My lips are sealed.”
A look crossed the man’s face, and it told Colm the man wasn’t buying the girl’s assurances.
Kavon moved forward, and all gazes moved to him.
“I am Kavon Mal Dor. Welcome to Markaria.” He put his arm around Aurina and tugged her to his side.
Colm watched the way she pressed into her warrior’s hold. Love, security, acceptance.
He’d never seen a connection like theirs growing up. All he could remember was his father’s shouts and fists, and his mother’s screams and sobs.
He looked away from Kavon and Aurina and noticed the golden-haired woman watching him with a curious frown.
Looked like she didn’t miss much. Colm would have to remember that.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Warlord Mal Dor. I’m Dr. Niklas Phoenix, Director of Acquisitions for the Institute of Historical Preservation.” The man came forward to shake hands. “My cousins have…had a lot to say.”
Kavon’s teeth flashed. “Aurina’s brothers are not particularly thrilled she mated me and stayed on Markaria.”
Niklas smiled. “That would be putting it mildly.”
Aurina sniffed. “My brothers are overprotective.” She raised a brow at her mate. “Unfortunately, my husband is as well.”
“They love you,” Niklas said. “We are extremely excited to be here. We’ve been studying the information and images that Aurina sent through regarding the discovery of the ship of the Earth explorers.
The First Warriors. Fascinating stuff. And—” the man’s blue eyes gleamed “—we’ve found some extra information that should prove very interesting for you, Warlord Mal Dor. ”
“Call me Kavon.” When Aurina elbowed him, he glanced at her, then back at Nik. “Please.”
The astro-archeologist smiled. “Kavon. But before we go any further, let me introduce my team.” He lifted a hand toward the tall woman by his side. “This is my partner, Nera.”
The woman didn’t say a word, just gave a slow nod.
Colm’s instincts still itched. He would not turn his back on this one.
“Seriously, you guys don’t want to mess with Nera.” The pink-haired one called Lala blew a huge bubble that snapped with a loud pop. “She might not be as big as you guys, but she’ll make Tanari hash out of you with her sword quicker than you can say?—”
“Lala,” Nik said with exaggerated patience.
“Sorry.” The girl’s smile said she was nothing of the sort. “Nera’s badass, especially if anyone tries to hurt Nik.”
Nera looked at Lala.
The girl’s mouth snapped shut. “Right. Quiet now.” She made a zipping motion across her lips. Then she leaned toward Colm, a conspiratorial look on her face. “I think I just wet myself a little bit.”
“This is Lala,” Nik said. “She’s a student assistant on this trip. It’s a part of her studies.”
The girl nodded. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to specialize in yet. Explosives, weapons creation, astro-archeology, cooking…I’m keeping my options open.”
Nik rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and even the woman, Nera, looked like a faint smile was threatening.
“And this is Agent Honor Brandall.” Nik swept his hand at the other woman.
The blonde stepped forward.
“She’s Nera’s second-in-command on the security team on our ship the Magellan.”
Kavon nodded. “I would like to introduce my second, and your guide for your expedition on Markaria. Colm Mal Kor.”
Colm let his gaze touch on all of them, lingering on the blonde. Her gaze was direct. “Kavon has informed me we are going to welcome you in the Markarian way.”
“And what way is that?” Agent Brandall had a smoky voice that Colm liked.
“Swords, ale, and food.” He locked his gaze with hers. “Do you like fighting, Agent Brandall?”
She shot him a smile laced with challenge. “I just happen to love it, Warrior Mal Kor.”
Honor stood with her hands behind her back and listened to the clash of metal on metal.
Sunlight glinted off the swords swinging in the open-air arena. Many locals were seated on the long rows of stone benches, watching the impressive display.
She wasn’t sure if they were there for the sweat-slicked flex of hard muscles, or the exceptional sword-fighting.
She watched each sword-fighting move. For big men, the Markarian warriors moved surprisingly well.
She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d heard all about the nanami their bodies were infused with.
She had a report about the microscopic organisms on her Sync, and apart from knowing they improved the Markarians’ speed, strength, and reflexes, she didn’t know much else. She hated having a gap in her intel.
She saw a warrior block the swing of another. The two men strained against each other.
She didn’t use a sword. Nera did, but her boss’ blade was nothing like the huge swords the barbarians had. Honor had to admit, the weapons were gorgeous—long, straight blades with decorative points near the hilts that could easily cause injury to an inexperienced user.
Honor preferred her pistols, and for hand-to-hand combat, her stun-staff. It might not have the elegant beauty of a blade, but in her hands, it was just as deadly.
Her gaze drifted to the large warrior in the center of the group. Mal Kor.
He was an inch or so taller than most of the others. He swung his sword with power and control, his long, black hair brushing his broad shoulders.
The warrior could move. She memorized his swings, where he placed his feet, how he held his sword. Still, she was honest enough to admit it was damned hard to keep her eyes on the fighting when her gaze kept straying down to the flex of his muscles. Why couldn’t these guys wear shirts?