Chapter 17
Jeltom
After my mate and I had cleaned up in the far-too-small shower in her bathroom, I tucked her tightly into bed and told her she could sleep and dream of me while I checked on the vineyard one last time.
As much as I trusted my work on the shields, and that my cousin had been true to his word and scoured the hills for any sign of Koratalin, I would not rest easy until she was caught or halfway across the galaxy.
My body felt warm and languid, but my senses were alert as I stepped outside to check on the generator.
The mating still danced through my veins, and I wanted to crawl back into that small bed and do it again—to fill her not just with one cock but both, to fill her belly with seed until she was pregnant with my child.
I’d never had such thoughts before, never wanted to be with a female long enough to consider a future with children.
I could see it now, though: the vineyard coming back to life the next year, blooming into its full potential.
I could see my mate on a porch swing, round with child, a smile so bright it matched the copper of her curls.
I could see a future down the line, too—children playing in the yard and friends visiting. A life. A full life. A happy life.
I knew I’d been searching for my place because, for a long time, it hadn’t felt like it could be here.
On Llykhe, in my hometown, with people who all knew what real empathy was.
I felt just a little less—stunted—because I did not sense emotions as brightly as they did.
For so long, I’d believed that my purpose had to be as a warrior, and when I left the military, it was because I was done with violence.
Now, I knew all that experience had shaped me to be ready for her; to be her safety, her protector, to be what she needed.
Her past, as succinct as she’d been in explaining it, had torn at my heart.
No wonder she’d had such a hard time adjusting to life on Llykhe, where kindness, peace, and safety were so expected that we did, indeed, not even build our homes with locks.
I’d been in too many unsafe places in the galaxy to be that complacent, but I still recalled those days when I was young.
It was something that should be taken for granted by every youth—yet she hadn’t even had enough food to grow.
I was proud of her for making the choice to come to Llykhe, even if that meant leaving her friend.
I’d come home to hide and wallow for a while, no clear plan, nothing but a vague intention to drink at Avertom’s saloon and sleep the day away.
She’d come here to build herself a future, to claim a corner of the quadrant as her own.
It was impressive, and I was going to do everything I could to share that dream now, to guarantee it.
The shield generator was still humming along, perfectly in order, for now.
Not even that faint rattle that sounded when it powered on was present.
That was good. Readings indicated it would have no problem running all through the night.
I still reached out to Avertom to get an update on what was happening in the hills.
“Shouldn’t you be busy with much more pleasurable things?
Why are you bothering me?” Avertom drawled, when he answered his comm.
I laughed, and the sound—free and easy—surprised both of us.
“Never mind,” my cousin said. “I see you’ve taken care of that already.
No, we have not found her, she has vanished without a trace.
” He hung up before I could ask any questions, and I was left peering into the dark with an uneasy feeling replacing the languor that had followed the sex.
So, she was missing, Koratalin. That wasn’t good.
I had a feeling that she’d been stretched thin and had suffered a very bad blow to her empire when Danitalin’s mercenaries had defeated her.
She had fled and come to Llykhe to chase after me.
But what if she had lost control of what remained of her empire entirely?
She was going to strike at those she blamed until she could strike no more.
That thought had only just occurred to me when something hit me hard in the back of my head.
My ears rang, my body spun from the blow, and for a moment, my vision danced as I began to pass out.
No! I could not let that happen. Mariska needed me, she wasn’t safe if I fell.
Strength I didn’t know I had—perhaps empowered by the mythical mate bond that stretched between Mariska and me—surged through my veins as, with a roar, I hauled myself back to my feet.
A shadow was on the porch, too small to be a male.
It had to be Koratalin. She must have made it onto the vineyard before us somehow and gotten trapped in the shield with us.
She was trying to open the locked door, which I’d been very careful to secure before walking to the generator.
She had a laser pistol, however, and she raised it to shoot at the lock.
I reached for mine, certain I’d be faster on the draw, except my holster was empty.
“No! You won’t!” I shouted anyway as I charged her.
My weapon had been lost in the dirt when she’d struck me, and the shovel she’d done it with was right beside the generator.
I picked it up as I passed, bracing myself for pain as she aimed her weapon at me.
As the barrel began to glow, for a split second, I was back in that lab on Radin, when the mercenary had shot me.
It looked the same; it was going to feel the same, but I wasn’t going to pass out this time.
I’d save Mariska, even if it was the last thing I did.
The pistol whined as it fired, scorching through the air. Someone screamed.
The pain never came, and my shovel swung through the air and struck Koratalin’s hand, her pistol flying away with a crack.
It wasn’t until the woman began to collapse that I saw Mariska standing at the end of the porch.
She was in nothing but my tunic, hastily thrown over her head, her curls wild, her skin glowing pale in the moonlight and the glow of the bioluminescent Lemane flowers that dotted the hills, her feet braced apart, and that old, oversized pistol held in a two-handed grip.
She was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
I checked Koratalin for a pulse and found none.
This time, certain she would not slip away from us, I stepped over her body and took the weapon from my mate.
Then I swept her into my arms and hugged her tightly.
“I thought I told you to stay in bed,” I said, even though I was beyond grateful that she hadn’t done so.
“I know,” she whispered. “But I heard a noise, and then I saw her. You’re not the only one around here who can be protective. I wasn’t going to let you get shot a second time.” Ah, how I loved this female.
***
Mariska
Turns out, when you kill someone in self-defense on an Aderian world, there’s a lot of paperwork involved.
Who’d have thought? But the Aderians had forms for literally anything.
Thankfully, the old sheriff in town, Leantyl, was a very pleasant male, and he sat at my kitchen table with me and helped me through each form with a kind smile.
Those smiles might have grated on me before, made me feel uneasy—as though I couldn’t trust them.
Jeltom had changed that. I felt at ease, able to take that kindness at face value and trust it.
Which was funny, considering I’d just been forced to shoot an actual crimelord on my front porch.
It was breaking news, and Danitalin had called Jeltom to ask if her friend, named Harper, could have the exclusive interview.
I could not believe what was going on, and I was going to be very glad when it was all over.
Leantyl kept assuring me we were almost done, but that was three forms ago, so I wasn’t sure I bought it.
When I had to fill in a line about having previous interactions with the assailant, I wondered about that moment on the hill.
Jeltom had warned me not to think about it, because a police officer would definitely sense something was up.
Oops. Guiltily, I glanced at the sheriff’s kind face, certain I’d been busted—that I had just caused more problems and more paperwork.
“Ah, lass, nobody likes paperwork,” he said, and he winked.
I gaped, mouth open and all that; couldn’t help it.
So he did know something, and he… he was letting it slide?
I was not going to object to that and quickly ducked my head down over the form to finish typing.
“That’s it, all done,” he said once I’d signed my name for what had to be the fifteenth time in the past ten minutes.
“Thank you kindly for your assistance,” he added as he rose, tipped his head, and walked out my door, his tablet with forms tucked under one arm and his long hair—about three dozen wrist-thick braids—swinging around his shoulders.
Jeltom came in from outside a few moments later, shimmering with health, his smile subtle but true, his all-black eyes locked on my face.
“So you charmed the old male, I see,” he drawled as he stomped the dust off his boots.
Then he came around the table and drew me into his arms. “Can’t say I blame him, you are the most charming creature there is. ”
I kissed him through the laughter, bright and happy, bubbling in my chest. “I love you, Jeltom.” Then I couldn’t resist teasing him, just because I loved his smile so much. “You know, there’s another Earth custom you should know about. It’s called a wedding.”
His expression was very earnest when he said, “I know. I have studied it already.” Oh God, I’d finally gotten it right. I’d found home, and home had a name: Jeltom.