Chapter 17

Havik:

Havik ran on instinct. He stripped Thalia and washed away the evidence of her capture. Under the warm water, her trembling ceased, and she relaxed. He focused on lathering and rinsing, keeping his touch clinical, even as she leaned into him and hummed with contentment.

The water plastered her hair to her head, and she looked up at him with such a sly smile.

“Feeling better?”

“A sexy shower with my favorite person? My spirits have been lifted,” she replied.

The air heated between them. He wanted so much in the moment that it felt too big to be contained. He had nearly lost Thalia once and he would not do so again. He’d bind her to him, mark her for all to see that they belonged together.

He cleared his throat, focusing on the task at hand. So much blood covered his mate: some hers, some donated from others. The glittering powder mixed in created a sparkling gore. Using a sponge, he lathered on the sweet-smelling soap she preferred.

“You kissed me,” she said.

“I did.”

“I’m not sure you did it right.”

The sponge paused, hovering over her shoulder blade. “I am sure I did it correctly.”

She looked over her shoulder. “You should kiss me again, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ah, I see. Safety protocol is very important to me.” The water rinsed away soap and grime, leaving a clean patch. Gently, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, avoiding the angry red lacerations. Warm from the water, her skin tasted fresh.

Carefully, he cleaned and kissed, working his way down her to the swell of her bottom. His tusk nipped into the meatiest part of her ass. Instead of jumping away, she groaned, pressing back into him.

Growling with hunger, he spun her until his face pressed into her lower abdomen. Her slender form appeared to be frail, but he could feel the strength in her. He wanted to scold her for injuring herself, for running off and deviating from the mission parameters, but he was so thankful to have her back.

Kisses brought him to the apex of her thighs. Her scent was strongest here, musky and full of desire.

Her hands explored the swirling tattoos on his arms and shoulders, her fingers tracing the patterns. They burned with her touch.

Groaning with the urge to taste her, he pulled away.

Soon.

His hands gripped her shoulders. Unsure how to proceed, he didn’t want to stop touching her but now was not the time to continue. She was injured and tired. Only a selfish male would give in to his base instincts and claim his mate in such a condition. She deserved better from him.

“You should kiss me here,” she said, tapping her lips. She tilted her head back as if challenging him. Water glistened on her lips and formed rivulets down her throat.

He groaned, knowing that if he did, he would not stop.

“You are injured,” he said.

“Not that injured,” she replied, lower lip in a pout.

“I will and I won’t let you go again.” He pressed a final kiss to the top of her wet head. “But only after I put a healing gel on your wounds, food and sleep.”

Thalia:

A dream about not being able to lock the stall door for a public toilet woke her. Wearing—more like swimming in—Havik’s tunic, she hustled down to the cleansing room to take care of business.

She returned with a cup of steaming tea. Every part of her was exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with Havik. Whether it was his bulk, the solid wall of muscle he called a chest, or the way his large hands held hers so carefully, she felt safe with him. The world was a horrible place filled with horrible people who only cared about others if it benefited them. A dog-eat-dog world, her mom would say.

But with Havik, it wasn’t such a bad place. Or maybe they made it a better place, together.

For crying out loud, she sounded sappy. That had to be exhaustion.

Thalia curled up in the chair, blowing on the tea to cool it.

Eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out Havik’s form under the bedsheets, like a mountain in the middle of the bed.

He took such good care of her when they got back to the ship, carefully cleaning her back and slathering the scrapes with gel. His touch had been tender, reverent even, but that was as far as it went, even when she begged for more.

He did call her his mate, though. Thalia had read too many romance novels to let that go. Part of her was disappointed they didn’t tear each other’s clothes off and spend a week in bed.

Her toes curled in anticipation.

Instead, Havik tore away the flimsy costume and washed away the stripper glitter. His touch remained clinical when he tended to her injuries, but it brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t seem to stop crying. She never had anyone take care of her before, and it was so fucking lovely.

He made her a cup of sugary tea and watched patiently while she ate a bowl of noodles. With her stomach in turmoil, eating seemed beyond her, but the moment the savory aroma hit her, she was ravenous. He watched every bite, like he ran calculations of calories burned through trauma and needed to right the balance.

Then he put her to bed. No fond kisses on the forehead. No accidental brushes that meant more. No lingering looks. Nothing.

He only stayed in her cabin because she said the dark seemed too big to be left alone with. Even then, he sat on the floor, next to her bed like a faithful dog. Needing a physical connection, her hand rested on the top of his head and remained there until she fell asleep.

At some point, a nightmare—people shoving her in the dark—woke her. Without a word, Havik climbed into the bed and wrapped her in his arms. Was it wrong that after all that, Thalia felt frustrated? His actions said he cared deeply, and she knew from experience that words meant nothing without action.

Still, she wanted the words.

And then some action.

She drained her tea, wondering if the glitter dust had been spiked with a chemical to lower her inhibitions or how long the calm-down gas used in her tube would linger in her system. Positive that her feelings were not chemically induced, she acknowledged that confessing their feelings and making love when she was hopped up on adrenaline and unknown chemicals, all the while bleeding, wasn’t the smartest move.

He was a good man, always taking care of her.

A new comm unit sat on a nearby table, an example of how Havik anticipated her needs. She didn’t have to explain how she lost her comm unit. He already had a replacement ready.

He was perfect if she didn’t think too hard about why he didn’t have a clan or how his first wife left. Two tiny little quibbles, really.

Thalia rolled her eyes at her sarcasm. She liked him, felt dangerously close to loving him, but she needed to know.

Stabs scurried across the floor and climbed into her lap. “Oof, you’re getting big,” she said in a quiet voice.”

With Stabs in her lap, she synced up the new comm unit to her identification chip. Within moments, she had verification that the warlord sent the money he promised. Her Fuck You money.

She could go anywhere, not just Earth, but part of her wondered if she should return just to see Nicky in a prison uniform. If he were in the ground, she’d piss on his grave.

That didn’t seem big enough. The Thalia from before going into the stasis chamber would have been satisfied with revenge. Plenty of people never saw justice come for those who wrong them, so why shouldn’t she savor a rare luxury? But if she did that, then what?

Thalia didn’t know.

For the first time, she didn’t have to scramble for the necessities to keep body and soul together. She did not have a boss to please or a job to do. She just had herself, and that felt too big.

She could go back to school. That idea appealed to her. The people who tried to control her had wanted her to be uneducated. Well, they wanted her dumb and ignorant, but what happened was a lack of formal education.

Okay, go to school. For what?

College? Medical school? No, that felt wrong. As much as she liked working for Doc, she wasn’t doctor material. Nursing? That fit better but wasn’t perfect.

And then what?

The mountain on the bed shifted as Havik rolled over. Despite the darkness, she could feel him watching her.

She didn’t want to go.

Havik:

“I can hear you thinking.” Havik shifted, pulling back the cover to invite his mate back to bed. He had patiently waited for her return but apparently, she needed prompting. “I do not appreciate the empty spot beside me.”

“Is that so?” The mattress dipped as she climbed back in. She nestled into him, fitting like they slept this way every night.

They should.

Moving without thought, his hands ran the length of her arms. He traced the curve of her hip, the gentle slope where her lower back met her ass and returned up to her shoulders. The juncture where her shoulder met her neck fascinated him. Her slender neck held a deceptive strength, as did her entire body.

“Do you require another pain suppressant?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Nothing sleep won’t fix.”

Carefully, he checked her wounds. They did not appear to be inflamed. He knew Terrans healed slowly, but her wounds upset him. Clever and quick-witted, he hated the idea of her in pain. He wanted her to be completely healed, now. Worse, he found evidence of older scarring. “Who did this?”

“Which one? Oh.” She twisted to look. His index finger and thumb framed the circular scar.

“Which one? Which one?!” Someone hurt her multiple times and he wanted blood.

She flinched. For a second, he felt wretched, frightening her. Then she rolled to her knees and lifted her chin, ready to fight.

He loved her.

It hit him hard, slamming him right in the chest. Whatever pain happened to her in the past may have marked her skin, but it did not define her. She came through the crucible stronger. He marveled at her.

He cupped her face, his finger tangling into her ridiculous green and sand hair. He leaned in, watching carefully for signs of distress. “Come here and kiss your mate.”

She sucked her breath in, as if surprised, and then a wicked gleam hit her eye.

They had no more words as her lips crashed into his. He drank her deep, barely breathing. She yielded, opening so sweetly for him, and she tasted even sweeter.

Mindful of her injuries, he lowered her to the mattress. Sleep clothes vanished. In the dim light, her beigey-pink skin glowed.

Lovely.

Taking his time, he explored the curves and contours of her, caressing her. Savoring. Her breaths fit perfectly in his mouth as he teased the nipples. Her back arched, gasping in pleasure.

More.

He tasted her skin, licking and kissing his way down to the juncture of her thighs. Her scent grew stronger, the cool oasis water and desert blooms concentrated and heady enough to overwhelm. Spreading her open, he admired the slick beige flesh.

She moaned and lifted her hips, wanting him.

Her taste exploded on his tongue, musk, salt and her undeniable essence. Perfect. He consumed her with the fever of a starving man, gorging himself because he never had a partner he wanted to please so much.

Brought to the edge, she trembled and pleaded with the need for release.

He probed her with a finger, then two. Her tight flesh clamped around him. So hot. She lifted her hips, riding his hand, but it was not enough. His cock leaked, and he desperately wanted to bury himself in her heat.

“Please, Havik. I need you,” she begged.

Looming over her, he planted a hand on either side of her head. Their breath mingled. She reached up and stroked the glowing tattoos at his shoulders. “Gorgeous, like you’re carved of starlight,” she whispered.

He lowered his mouth in a feverish kiss.

“If we go further, I will claim you,” he said.

She licked her lips, tasting herself. “I want that.”

“I will bite you here.” His lips brushed the curve of her neck.

“Fuck yes,” she moaned.

“Tomorrow we have much to discuss.”

She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. “You talk too much.”

“Said no one ever.”

Her eyes went wide. “Was that a joke?”

“It has been known to happen.” He licked the column of her throat. Whatever retort she had disappeared into a moan.

Her hand slid down his back, wrapping around the base of his tail. He jerked, his control gone, and his tail whipped violently. The barb grazed her thigh.

He stilled as she wiggled underneath him. “It’s warm,” she moaned.

“My barb has a toxin that increases pleasure.”

“That’s…amazing.” Her breathing grew increasingly ragged and her pupils dilated. Her hands skated along his back. “You feel amazing. Like, really good before, but now…it’s really, really good.”

“The first time is the most potent. Are you ready for me?”

“So ready.” She whimpered for relief.

He lined his cock to her entrance and pushed in. Slowly, her tight channel yielded as he pressed deeper, inch by inch.

“Oh my God, why does it feel like that?” she gasped. “Not a complaint. It’s incredible.”

He did not have the patience to explain the anatomical difference between himself and a Terran male. She was hot and gripped his cock wonderfully close. Selfishly, he would allow her to explore him tomorrow. He couldn’t think beyond where their bodies joined and how perfect she felt, or how she moved.

He pulled back and plunged in. She gasped and moaned, rising to meet him thrust for thrust. Again and again, he pumped into her until she was the only thing in the universe. The feel of his mate. Her sounds. The soft words she murmured, punctuated with curses that delighted him. She was the only one for him, and he would never let her go again.

Pleasure coiled tight at the base of his tail and zipped along his nerves. At the precipice of release, he buried his fangs into her shoulder. She gasped, her core fluttering and squeezing around him. He released deep in her, filling her with his seed.

His mate rode out her climax. The toxin from his barb took away the pain of the mate mark, burning pleasure through her until only a soft glow remained.

Rolling to the side, he gathered her to him. He stroked her hair, watching for signs of distress.

She blinked, eyes heavy with sleep. Smacking her lips, she smiled and snuggled into him.

He adored this female.