Chapter 19

Rohn:

A son. Rohn could hardly believe the words. Nakia had given him a son, and he had nearly lost them both that day.

He called for backup and transport. If the Suhlik arrived to sniff around the beacon, they would be greeted with eager Mahdfel warriors. A shuttle arrived in moments and he gave a brief rundown of events. A few brows rose in surprise at the sight of the deceased medic, but none doubted Rohn’s justification. Levin threatened his mate. A swift death was too generous.

Inside the shuttle, Rohn found a med pack and treated the wound on his mate’s hand. She hissed, sucking in her breath, when the cleansing foam touched the lacerations.

“It stings,” he said with sympathy.

“Is your mate well?” Vox peered over his shoulder, blocking the light.

“No,” he snapped. “She is bleeding.”

“So are you. She needs a medic.”

Give him patience. He liked Carrie too much to injure her thick-headed mate. “Yes, she does. Take us to a medic, pilot.”

“Oh.” Vox perked up, as if realizing that he was the pilot. “Oh!” He scrambled to the pilot’s seat. Within moments, the shuttle lifted smoothly from the ground and headed in the correct direction.

Soon Rohn carried Nakia into the field hospital. His mate kept insisting that the wound to his gut be examined, but it did not pain him. She was more important than his mild discomfort.

“Put her down and stop bleeding on my floor,” Kalen snapped. “Your mate appears healthy. Do not waste my time.”

Rohn pressed a wad of gauze to his side to staunch the flow. The wound must have opened when he lifted his mate. He gave a hurried report of events to Kalen. “Levin injected my mate with a substance. She is with child.”

Kalen already had Nakia on the examination table. He placed an oxygen mask over her mouth. “Breathe normally.” He then pressed a device to her forearm. “This will take a small blood sample.”

“Two injections. The first he said was vitamins, but the second made it so I couldn’t move,” she explained. “Will that harm the baby?”

Kalen glanced up from the device to Nakia but said nothing.

“Rohn,” she said, holding out her hand. Her voice wobbled, all her gorgeous confidence gone.

“All will be well,” he said, desperately hoping that to be true.

Nakia She believed him. Everything would be fine. They were together. “Team Rokia, right?”

“Yes.” He squeezed her hand.

Too much chaos swirled inside of her. The unexpected news of her pregnancy, immediately followed by terror and panic, with little time to process anything, left her lightheaded and anxious. Everything she didn’t feel before came crashing down. Her chest tightened to the point it was hard to breathe.

Everything would be fine.

She was safe. The baby was safe. Everything would okay in the end.

But she didn’t believe it. Whatever Levin injected her with could hurt the baby and what kind of mother was she, since she let that happen? She had never particularly wanted kids, but now that she was pregnant, she wanted Rohn’s baby more than anything and she’d already failed. And Rohn got shot in the stomach and no one seemed to care at all about that. What if he died? She couldn’t take care of a baby on her own. She could barely take care of her cat—

“Nakia.” Rohn’s soothing voice pierced her haze of panic. “Breathe, love. You’re safe.”

Safe.

On her worst days, Rohn made her feel safe. He always had.

“I’m scared,” she said. The mask muffled her voice. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned in. She slipped the mask down over her nose to revel in the familiar scent of motor oil and sandalwood.

“Me too,” he said, his confession easing her mind. They were worried together, but they were together and would face it as a united front.

Kalen returned, his face as serious and inscrutable as ever. Surely if he had good news, he’d smile or give her a nod. Nakia prepared for the worst.

“Good news.”

She sighed with relief, the tension leaving her shoulders.

“The baby is healthy. You were given a prenatal vitamin and the paralytic had no adverse effects,” Kalen said.

“And her exposure to the atmosphere?” Rohn asked.

Kalen removed the oxygen mask. “Oxygen levels in her blood are adequate. I wouldn’t recommend a long hike until the atmosphere generators are fully repaired. Now sit still while I clean up your hand. Did you have to cut yourself quite so deeply?” He bent over her hands, swabbing them with a solution that stung.

“Yes. It saved my life.”

The medic looked up sharply. “Ah. Well done, then.”

“What about Rohn? He was shot.”

“He’s still standing,” Kalen said, unconcerned.

“I am fine,” Rohn said.

“You’re not fine. You have a hole in your gut.” Why did no one care? Was it a machismo thing? “Examine Rohn, please. He could be bleeding out or… or…” She didn’t want to think about it. Too much could have gone wrong that day. They had been so lucky.

Kalen sighed. “Females. Fine. I will tend to your mate first, since you insist. Remove the shirt.” Rohn complied. The wound appeared to be a quarter sized hole just above his left hip. The inflamed edges were ragged and oozed a dark red.

“Why were you not wearing armor? Why does no one think to take basic precautions?” Kalen scolded. He poked the wound, clearly taking no pains to be gentle. Rohn’s abdomen muscles clenched but he made no complaint. “Everyone expects the medic to patch them up so they’re sloppy and careless. Why are you still bleeding?” Another prod. “The wound should be partially closed by now.” Kalen stood to his full height and delivered a scathing look to Rohn. “What did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Nakia said, ready to jump to her man’s defense.

“Be at peace,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. Turning back to Kalen, he said, “Years ago, Levin exposed me to a toxin that suppressed my natural healing. It is why my horn never healed and my vision is impaired.”

“He did what!?” Nakia knew about the crash that took Levin’s wife, but she didn’t know that Levin was the one who shattered Rohn’s horn.

Kalen titled his head to one side. “Levin did that?”

“It was during amok amser,” Rohn said. “His mate perished due to my actions. That was his retribution.”

“And my missing medic?”

“Dead by my hand.”

Kalen nodded. “He endangered your mate. It was no more than he deserved.”

While the medic cleaned Rohn’s wound, another Mahdfel arrived with a small entourage. The male towered over the others, with a warm plum complexion and one partially regrown horn. He had to be someone of importance, as Kalen and Rohn both snapped to attention.

“Warlord,” Rohn said, just before giving a hurried account of events.

This was the warlord? Mercy described her husband as a science geek. Nothing about the towering musclebound man looked like a science geek. He looked just as terrifying as the other warlord she saw on Earth all those years ago.

“Your mate?” the warlord asked, casting a curious gaze in her direction.

“Well. Levin did not injure her and she is with child.” Pride colored Rohn’s voice.

“Congratulations.” The warlord rewarded Rohn with a hearty slap to the back. The gauze and supplies which had been next to Rohn fell to the floor.

Kalen frowned and looked like he struggled to keep his complaint to himself, but he lost in the end. “Watch it. I don’t have an infinite supply of sterile equipment.” He swiped the items off the floor, discarding them in a bin. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a field hospital sterile? Impossible. That’s what it is.”

“The colony?” Rohn asked, ignoring the medic’s complaints.

“Twenty percent structural damage but minimal casualties, thanks to our excellent medical staff,” the warlord said. Kalen muttered but seemed pleased at the praise. “There is an ongoing conflict on the far side near the mining operation but the settlement is secure.”

“Levin had a beacon. He sent a message to the Suhlik,” Nakia said.

“And my mate smashed the beacon,” Rohn added.

The warlord gave her another appraising look, his eyes a disturbing bright blue. “And you were the morsel he offered up to the Suhlik?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “We have warriors at the site. They are handling the Suhlik who were too curious to resist.”

“Paax!” A shout rang through the crowd.

As if following an unspoken command, the warriors distanced themselves from the warlord. He stood alone and faced another male who strode toward him.

“Always in my medical,” Kalen muttered. The medic moved Nakia and Rohn back, then continued to work on Rohn’s wound, totally ignoring the drama.

Nakia, however, was fascinated. The new male was not as tall as the warlord—presumably Paax—but he was built wide and solid.

“Antomas,” Paax said.

The two males faced each other, the air thick with tension.

“You are not supposed to be here,” Antomas said.

“Checking on the health of my clan? Of the colonists? Tell me how this is not a warlord’s responsibility.” A titter went through the crowd.

Antomas frowned. “This is my mission. You are not supposed to be here. The Council is displeased.”

“Ah. Yes. I would apologize for my clan arriving first, driving back the Suhlik, saving the majority of the colony and the colonists’ lives, but no. I have nothing to apologize for.”

“You disobeyed the Council’s orders. You are unfit to lead this clan.”

Kalen huffed, attention still on Rohn’s abdomen. “You would think for such an ambitious idiot, he’d have a fancy speech prepared for his moment. It’s like listening to an amateur,” he muttered. Rohn grunted in agreement.

“I accept your challenge, Antomas. Is your clan ready to go on without you?”

“Is your clan ready for a male fit to lead them into battle?”

They drew swords. Paax’s crackled with blue energy along the edge.

With no prompting, they surged together, blades clashing. Nakia didn’t know anything about sword fights or even action movies, but it appeared as if Antomas drove Paax backward, like he led the fight. The crowd remained silent, collectively holding their breaths. Just when it appeared as if Paax’s back was to the wall, he ducked, slipping around the shorter male, and jabbed him in the side with an unseen dagger.

Antomas roared with frustration, the dagger embedded to the hilt in his flesh. He charged forward, but Paax sidestepped again, forcing the other male to face Paax on his terms. Antomas rushed in again. With an elegant step back at the last moment, Paax’s blade bit into the male. A growing red slash decorated his tunic.

“A dirty trick,” Antomas spat.

“No, it was foolish of you not to know all the weapons your opponent carried.”

They surged together again. This time Antomas kicked at Paax’s feet. The warlord lowered his blade, allowing the other male to stumble forward. He had complete control, treating the situation like a dance, meeting his partner, then releasing, then meeting again. It was almost like watching Princess that one time she caught a mouse. She toyed with the creature until it was too exhausted to run, then she devoured it, nose to tail.

Paax knocked the blade from Antomas. “I will allow you to yield, for the good of your clan. You fought well.”

Eyes wide with panic, the male rushed forward to grapple. Paax twisted the male’s arm behind him, forcing him to his knees. He brought the blade to the male’s throat—

Nakia closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see this part. She’d already witnessed one death that day. How did sunny, friendly Mercy deal with her husband fighting? Not knowing what happened every time there was a battle. As warlord, he had to lead the effort. And as warlord, he faced challengers. A lucky blow could end everything for them.

Kalen muttered about blood on his floor but otherwise kept his peace.

Antomas slumped to the ground, a pool of blood spreading underneath him.

The crowd remained silent. All Nakia could think about was Rohn’s promise to retire. Their future did not hold more of this grotesque display.

She caught her husband’s eye. Kalen closed the wound with a suture. “I want to go home,” she whispered. Anywhere with Rohn was home, and she wanted to be anywhere but there.