Prologue #4
I pushed inside her in one slow thrust, and we both groaned. She was impossibly tight, impossibly hot, her body gripping me like a vise. For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, could only feel the overwhelming sensation of being inside her.
Then she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper, and I lost whatever control I'd been clinging to.
I moved inside her, driven by the drug osmosed into my system and the desperate sounds she made and the way her body responded to every thrust. She met me stroke for stroke, her nails raking down my back, her teeth finding my shoulder.
The pain only heightened the pleasure, made everything sharper, more intense.
She came again, and then again, her body convulsing around me, but the drug demanded more. I flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up, and took her from behind. The new angle made her scream, made her fist the blanket and push back against me with wild abandon.
It was primal. Animalistic. And despite the circumstances—despite everything—my body responded with an intensity that terrified me.
This wasn't real, I reminded myself. This wasn't her choice.
This was a drug forcing her body to respond, forcing her to beg for something she might not want if she were in her right mind.
But goddess, she felt incredible. The sounds she made, the way she moved, the way her body took me so perfectly. It was almost enough to make me forget. Almost.
I came with a roar, spilling inside her, and she came with me, her whole body shaking. I collapsed beside her, pulling her against my chest, and for a few moments we just lay there, panting, our bodies slick with sweat.
The drug's hold on her seemed to ease. Her breathing slowed. Her trembling subsided. Her eyes, which had been wild and unfocused, cleared for just a moment, the green flecks in them sparkling. She looked at me—really looked at me—and I saw hints of the person beneath the drugs.
She smiled, soft and heartbreakingly genuine, as her hand came up to cradle my cheek.
"Hi," she whispered.
The word was barely audible, but it hit me like the sharp end of a blade. My tail erupted in sensations so intense it bordered on pain—tingling, burning, demanding. The feeling shot up my back and exploded through my entire nervous system.
No. No, no, no.
I threw my head back and roared, the sound tearing from my throat with a fury born of desperation and denial.
Not this. Not like this.
But my body knew what my mind refused to accept. The tingling in my tail was unmistakable, undeniable.
This human female—drugged, traumatized, stolen from whatever life she'd had before—was my mate.
My fated mate.
The one female in all the universe whose genetic signature called to mine, whose pheromones triggered the biological imperative coded into my very DNA. The one I was meant to bond with, to protect, to cherish for the rest of my life.
And I'd just taken her while she was drugged out of her mind.
The roar died in my throat, replaced by a sound that was almost a whimper. I looked down at her, this fragile human who had no idea what she meant to me, what she would always mean to me.
She was still smiling, that soft, sweet smile, her hand still on my cheek. Then her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed against my chest, unconscious once more.
I held her longer than necessary, my heart pounding in an irregular rhythm that made my chest ache. Then, with shaking hands, I reached for the medi-kit.
The sedative vial felt heavy as I loaded it into the injector. I pressed it against her neck, feeling the soft warmth of her skin, and administered the dose. Her breathing deepened almost immediately, her body going slack in my arms.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me. "I'm so sorry."
I settled back against the cave wall, cradling her against my chest. My tail was still tingling, still singing with the knowledge of what she was to me. I wrapped it around her, an instinctive gesture of protection I couldn't suppress even if I wanted to.
The minutes crawled by. I monitored her vitals, tried to keep my mind occupied. But my gaze kept returning to her face, peaceful now in true sleep rather than drug-induced delirium.
She had freckles across her nose. I hadn't noticed those before. And a small scar through her left eyebrow, barely visible.
I wanted to know everything. How did she get that scar? What made her laugh? What did her voice sound like when she wasn't begging or drugged or terrified?
I wanted a lifetime I had no right to ask for.
An hour passed before my comm finally chirped. I answered immediately, keeping my voice low.
"Tarrick."
"I'm inbound. Twenty minutes to your position. But we've got a problem."
My grip on her tightened. "What kind of problem?"
"Kwado patrol ships are sweeping the area. They must have discovered she escaped. I'm reading at least three vessels, maybe more. They've got air-to-surface capabilities."
"Can you make it?"
"I can make it. But extraction is going to be hot. I'm sending you the coordinates for a new rendezvous point, three clicks northeast. More cover, better approach vector."
The coordinates appeared on my comm. Three clicks. With an unconscious human in my arms and Kwado patrols closing in.
"Confirmed. I'm moving now."
"Cristox."
"I know. Twenty minutes. I'll be there."
I ended the comm and looked down at her one more time. Then I gathered the supplies, packed everything into my backpack, and lifted her into my arms.
She was so light. So fragile. The blanket was still wrapped around her, and I made sure it was secure before I started moving.
The night air hit us as I emerged from the cave, cooler and sharper with the slightly astringent scent of vegetation. My comm painted the terrain in shades of green and blue, mapping the fastest route.
I ran.
The landscape blurred past. Twisted trees with bark-like scales, undergrowth that grabbed at my boots, rocky outcroppings that forced me to adjust my path.
I kept her cradled against my chest, one arm supporting her weight, the other free to balance and navigate.
Every few minutes, I checked her vitals through the blanket.
Pulse steady. Breathing even. The venerem had finally released its grip enough to let her rest.
Three clicks had never felt so long.
My comm chirped. "Two minutes out," Tarrick said. "I've got a visual on the Kwado ships. They're spreading out in a search pattern."
"How long do we have?"
"Five minutes. Maybe ten if we're lucky."
We wouldn't be lucky. I could feel it in my bones.
The rendezvous point came into view—a clearing ringed by dense forest, the canopy overhead providing some cover from aerial detection.
Tarrick's shuttle was already descending, engines screaming as he brought it down fast and hard.
The landing struts hit the ground with a metallic crunch, and the rear hatch opened before the ship had fully settled.
I burst into the clearing just as Tarrick appeared at the hatch, weapon in hand. His eyes went to the female in my arms, then to the horizon behind me.
I didn't need to look. I could see it reflected in his face.
The Kwado ships were visible now, dark shapes against the night sky, the running lights glowing like predatory eyes.
"Give me the long-range blaster," I said as I reached the shuttle.
Tarrick's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Understanding. "Cristox—"
"The long-range blaster. Now."
He disappeared into the shuttle and returned with the weapon. A heavy rifle designed for distance work, powerful enough to punch through light armor. He handed it to me without a word.
I shifted her in my arms, adjusting her weight to transfer her to him. "Get her to safety."
"There's time."
"No." I looked at the approaching ships. They were closer now, close enough that I could make out their configurations. Assault craft. Fast, maneuverable, armed. "They'll track the shuttle. You need a head start, and I need to give it to you."
"Cristox." Tarrick's voice was rough. "This is suicide."
"This is the mission." I met his eyes. "Get her out of here. Keep her safe."
For a moment, I thought he might argue. Then he nodded once, sharp and final, and held out his arms.
I carefully transferred the female, making sure the blanket stayed wrapped around her and that Tarrick had her secure. She looked so small. So vulnerable. The drug had left her face pale, her lips slightly parted, dark lashes resting against her cheeks.
I reached out and brushed my knuckles against her cheek one last time. Then I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead. A gentle kiss, a goodbye, a promise I couldn't keep.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Just for a second. Just long enough for her gaze to find mine, hazy and confused but aware. Those eyes—human eyes, so different from mine, so impossibly beautiful in shades of gray and blue with flecks of green—locked onto my face.
I wanted to say something. Wanted to tell her... what? That she was my mate? That I would have given anything for more time? That in another life, another universe, I would have kept her safe and made her mine and never let her go?
But there were no words. There was only this moment, this single heartbeat, where she looked at me and I looked at her, and something passed between us that had no name.
Then her eyes closed again, and she was gone, pulled back under by exhaustion and the lingering effects of the venerem.
"Go," I said to Tarrick.
He didn't waste time on sentiment. He turned and carried her into the shuttle, moving fast. I heard the engines cycle up to full power.
I stepped back from the shuttle and raised the long-range blaster, sighting the nearest Kwado ship. The targeting system painted it red, calculating distance, wind speed, velocity.
The shuttle's engines roared behind me. I didn't turn around. Didn't watch it lift off. I kept my eyes on the Kwado ships, on the threat, on the only thing I could still do for her.
The first ship was in range. I squeezed the trigger, and the blaster kicked against my shoulder. The shot streaked across the sky, a line of superheated plasma that struck the ship's port engine. It exploded in a shower of sparks and debris, and the ship lurched sideways, trailing smoke.
The other ships immediately changed course, converging on my position.
Good.
I fired again. And again. Drawing their attention, their fire, their fury. Everything they had, I wanted aimed at me. Not at the shuttle climbing into the atmosphere behind me. Not at the female who was my mate in every way that mattered, even if she'd never know it.
The Kwado ships opened fire, and the world erupted in light and heat.
I smiled.
She was safe. It was enough. It had to be enough.