Chapter 18

Lorran:

Wyn eventually wore herself out scolding Lorran, listing the various ways he would get himself killed because he was trifling, and she was not incorrect. He had a habit of acting rashly. Instinct guided many of his actions, but instinct did not consider consequences.

He needed to be a cautious male. He had a mate who ordered him to return.

She slept, sprawled out over several seats with her head in his lap. He combed his fingers through her curls, listening to her breaths and light snores.

Angry words came from the helm.

“I am telling you, if you do not act now, we will lose the trail,” Caldar said.

“Saavi requires urgent medical attention. Med Orbital Five is the nearest medical facility. I have already charted the course.”

“The stasis chamber will keep her stable for days. Think of it. An active Suhlik hatchery. How pleased will your warlord be when you deliver those coordinates?”

There was silence, as Mylomon considered.

“This is a rescue mission. We go to Med Orbital Five,” Mylomon eventually said.

Caldar pulled his shoulders back, standing at his full height. He no longer looked the frail and aging Mahdfel that Lorran first encountered. Anger flashed in Caldar’s eyes. “You are not my warlord.”

“No, I am not.” Mylomon met Caldar’s cold gaze with ice. His dark eyes held nothing, no spark of life at all. “But I am in command of this mission.”

“You are on my ship, and I go where I please.”

“I commandeered this vessel, and it is now under my command.” Lorran had overheard the conversation where Mylomon forced Caldar to transfer the command codes. Caldar had expressed his disdain with choice words.

“If you think I’m going to quietly wait for Paax to show up and decide my fate, you are misinformed,” Caldar said.

“No. I expect you to scurry away at the first opportunity because that is what vermin does,” Mylomon replied.

“My mate is sleeping. This is unproductive arguing,” Lorran said.

Wyn’s breathing changed, indicating that she was awake and listening.

“I am not arguing,” Caldar said, continuing the argument. “I am astounded by this male’s lack of creativity. Don’t you want to know where you come from? Don’t you want to find those responsible and hold them accountable for what they did to you?”

Mylomon said nothing, staring darkly at Caldar.

“You’re not even the only one. Did you know that? Ulrik and Saavi recovered genetic material from the eggshells, and they found a match. Aren’t you curious?”

More silence.

“I am curious,” Lorran said, not because he was—well, a little—but he saw how Mylomon seethed with frustration and how Caldar remained oblivious.

“They had Mylomon’s DNA,” the older male said. “Clones, perhaps. Isn’t that fascinating? I understand that you’ve been unsuccessful in breeding your mate, but the Suhlik—”

Mylomon’s fist slammed into Caldar’s mouth. The older male stumbled back from the impact, blood and spit flying.

Three more hours until they reached Med Orbital Five.

Wyn:

Week three in space, and Wyn was on her first space station. She certainly was seeing the sights. Granted, the derelict ship and disused Mahdfel base were hardly luxury destinations, but they were interesting.

And terrifying. Don’t forget terrifying.

The medical station seemed, at worst, very serious. It was a hospital, after all, not a luxury resort. Armed guards and medics formed the welcome team, so maybe hers wasn’t the typical Med Orbital Five experience.

Now in cuffs, Caldar was unceremoniously shoved down the ramp by Mylomon to the waiting guards. “Place this one in the brig and do not let him talk his way out. He is waiting for the warlord to decide his fate,” Mylomon said.

A sour and determined look settled on Caldar’s face, as if he plotted his escape and Mylomon would be the first stop for retribution.

Wyn shivered. She didn’t like the man and was happy to see the back of him. On the ship, Lorran and Mylomon talked around Caldar’s actual crime—Saavi’s, too, when it came down to it—but she pieced it together. The ship. The tunnels. The supplies. Caldar was a smuggler. Saavi and her former husband were customers. Was it just bad luck that Caldar got caught on their ship when the Suhlik attacked? Then he took Saavi and her son to his smuggler hideaway out of the kindness of his heart?

He didn’t seem the type. The relationship must have been something more than a simple customer and merchant.

Speculating that out loud in front of Saavi’s kid would be beyond rude, so Wyn filed her questions away to be asked later.

Mikah, meanwhile, attached himself to Mylomon and would not leave the man’s side, much to Mylomon’s confusion. Wyn didn’t see the appeal. Mylomon always looked like he was plotting ways to kill you. The guy definitely had a strong murderous vibe. The less time she spent with him, the better. However, her beloved husband seemed determined to make the grumpy man his best friend. Maybe it was cultural, and Mahdfel naturally gravitated toward the grumpy and the murderous.

That certainly was a theory.

Mylomon told Lorran to get rooms for them both and rest. He’d take the first shift while the medics worked on Saavi, then steered Mikah down a corridor toward the hospital.

Besides the medical hospital, the station offered basic amenities for space travelers. Wyn picked up a new set of clothes, shoes, and toiletries. She had a long list of items needing to be replaced, but that could wait. She wanted food, a shower, and to sleep in a proper bed that wouldn’t hurt her back. Sleeping on seats in a spaceship that weren’t meant to be a bed…yeah, ouch. Thirty was too old for that nonsense.

The hotel room was offensively bland with soft gray walls, soft lighting, abstract art on the walls, and a patterned carpet design to hide stains. Hotels were the same regardless of planet or orbit. The one interesting feature was a large round window. Embedded blue lighting gently ringed the window, and the plush upholstered sofa sat underneath. A low table sat in front of the sofa, complete with a floral arrangement and a decanter of cold water and glasses.

A blue planet dominated the view. Swirling white clouds covered the surface. Bits of green and brown peaked through. It was surprisingly Earth-like but wrong at the same time, missing the familiar landmass shapes.

“Is that Sangrin? Where you’re from?” she asked.

“No. That is Tholla.” Lorran joined her at the window.

She repeated the name. “And what’s good about Tholla?”

“A shipyard capable of producing deep space vessels.” He pointed to a light to the right of the planet, just a blur in the sky. “There. The planet is mostly water. No large land masses and a few settlements.”

“How far are we from Sangrin?”

“Two days’ journey.” He stroked his fingers down the window and summoned a projected control panel. With a few taps, the view changed. A large blue and green planet filled the screen. A grid of golden lights sprawled across the largest landmass. “That is Sangrin.”

“Can I see your house from here?” she asked in a teasing tone.

“Alas, my parents are located on the other side of the planet,” he answered in a serious tone, not getting the joke.

Wyn couldn’t help her smile. He got a cute little worry line between his brows when he was serious. Adorable.

“How long are we staying here?”

“Until Saavi is stabilized and can journey to the Judgment.”

Right. She wasn’t sure how to ask the next part. “What she said about your warlord…”

“She and her mate committed a criminal offense. She will face the consequences of her actions.”

“But she’s not Mahdfel. Shouldn’t the civilian authorities handle it?”

“She is a Mahdfel mate who conducted illegal research on a Mahdfel ship with Mahdfel resources.” Lorran scratched at the base of his horns. “No, the warlord will handle the matter.”

“Maybe he made her. Maybe she didn’t have a choice,” Wyn said.

A hardened expression flashed across his face. “No. I heard her confession. She was quite offended when I suggested she did not have any part in the research. Told me I erased her contributions.”

“Well, the patriarchy does like to diminish the achievements of women,” Wyn said, staring back at the planet. “So Mikah is losing both his parents.”

“I cannot say what the warlord will decide.”

“But what’s your best guess?”

He hesitated before he said, “Paax told me that Ulrik had been his friend. I would not be surprised if he felt compassion for Saavi and sentenced her to confinement on the Judgment.”

“Confinement. So locked up in a cabin in space rather than a cell on a planet?”

“Living and working on the Judgment, under supervision from the clan. It is a good solution for her and her son.”

“But she sounded so afraid of the warlord.” The absolute fear and panic in Saavi’s eyes, pleading not to go, even as she bled out, haunted Wyn.

“Saavi believes she knows the warlord, but she does not.” Lorran sighed, scratching again at his horns. “She knew Paax as he had been, but she does not know him now as warlord.”

“Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. That made no sense.” Wyn took a seat on the sofa, grabbing a pillow to wedge between herself and the armrest.

“Ulrik was a member of our clan. I did not know him well. Our warlord at the time was Omas.” Lorran gazed out the window. “His mate died in an attack. He was seriously injured and nearly died. Paax used an experimental serum and saved him. Changed him.”

Lorran picked up the decanter and filled two glasses with water before continuing. “Omas grew unstable, locked in his anger and his grief. Males with mates were removed from the clan.”

“Ulrik and Saavi left.”

“And many more,” Lorran answered with a nod. “Perhaps I am explaining this poorly. The clan…is often all the family a male has. I am fortunate to have my father and my brothers, but my situation is unusual. This life is dangerous.”

Wyn made a noise, a sarcastic snort mixed with a whimper. Yes, this life was dangerous.

“The damage that pulling a clan apart does cannot always be seen, but it is felt. Deeply.” He touched his chest, like remembering an old wound. “The bonds between brothers in the clan bind us together. We crave those connections. We also desire a mate and family. It is coded into the fiber of our beings. To make a warrior choose between the two things that define his existence—” Lorran shook his head. “Many resented Omas for forcing them to choose. More resented Paax because he created a monster from the dying body of his brother.”

That sounded…complicated, and a whole mess of things she wasn’t ready to deal with yet. “And you? Did you resent him?”

“I was young. Eager to prove myself. I saw the damage Omas did, but even as he grew more erratic, I told myself that we did more good than harm. We protected the people of Sangrin and all those in our territory. We did our duty.”

Wyn reached for his hand, brushing her thumb against the back. “Sounds difficult.”

“It is the past.” His posture changed, as if he forced his body to relax. He was going into fun-time Lorran mode, all jokes and easy charm.

Fair enough. That was a heavy conversation, and they had a hell of a day, what with the running for their lives and the pew pew pew.

“We require sustenance,” he said.

“Food. Yes. Tell me they have real food here.”

“Real food, and I believe we can request delivery.” Lorran pulled out a battered comm unit from his pocket. It expanded into a translucent sheet. “Have you had Sangrin food before?”

“Nope, but I’ll try it. I like spicy, just not melt-your-face spicy. And no faces. I’ll eat meat, but I don’t want it looking back at me,” she said. She had a short list of foods she did not like, which included oysters and…well, just oysters. The texture grossed her out. “Nothing slimy,” she added.

“Deleting that,” he said without glancing up from the screen, but she knew he teased her by his self-satisfied smirk.

“Funny. Do you think I can call my mother before the food gets here?”

“Yes. Certainly. The order is placed. I will clean up while you speak with your mother.”

“I’ll keep it short and audio.” An interstellar call had to be pricy. She didn’t want to think of the data bill.

“Absolutely not. Speak to your mother. Let her see your beautiful face.” He typed in something on his comm unit, and he disappeared into the cleansing room.

The far wall turned black. Large letters announced the line was connecting. A shiver went down her spine when she realized the letters were in another language, yet she understood them. The translator chips were something else.

A link was established, and the screen filled with the familiar images of home. An older version of Wyn walked into the frame. “Hello? Who is this?” Alana leaned forward to the camera, like she could peer across space and time and see for herself. It was the most mom way to answer the phone, and it hurt Wyn’s heart a little.

“Mom?” Wyn stumbled forward, bumping into the coffee table.

“Wyn! Oh, Winnie, look at you.” A smile broke across Alana’s face, one moment radiant and comforting. The smile vanished, replaced by a stern glare. “And what kind of time do you call this, young lady?”

“Mom, I—”

“No word! No, I made it, I’m alive. Out of our minds with worry, your father and I have been.”

“Mom—”

Alana did not give Wyn a moment to apologize or explain. “Bronwyn Shirley Davies, I am disappointed in you.”

Oh no, not the full name.

“I expected you to be busy with your honeymoon—”

Oh no, this was worse. Go back to reciting her name.

“But not a single call for weeks!”

“Two weeks,” Wyn said, like that would help.

“It doesn’t matter!” Alana peered at the screen, inspecting Wyn. “I expect he kept you tied to the bed, and that’s the only reason you couldn’t call your momma. Good for you, baby, but I’ll tan his hide. Well, where is he? Let me take a look at the sex machine who’s kept my baby girl so busy.”

“Oh my God, Mom!” Wyn’s cheeks burned hot. Her mother was mostly right, but Wyn would be damned before she confessed that to her mother. Gross. “Lorran’s in the shower because he’s not rude enough to eavesdrop—” Something clattered in the cleansing room, telling her that he was, in fact, rude enough to eavesdrop. “And we’ve been out of range of network connection. I couldn’t call because the phone didn’t work.”

Alana huffed, but that seemed to mollify her parental wrath. “I’ll allow it. Does he treat you right? Because, so help me, I will go there and give him a piece of my mind if he—”

“Mom! Mom, please,” Wyn said, finally getting a word in. “Lorran is great. Really great. I like him a lot.”

“Oh, Winnie, that’s wonderful,” she said, despite frowning. “You’re not telling me something.”

“What? No. He’s great. Everything’s great.”

“Winnie,” her mother said, invoking the nickname that only she used. “You know better than to lie.”

Wyn heaved a sigh. “It’s just…a lot, you know?”

“Being thrown together with a stranger is a lot,” she agreed.

“And it’s not like I thought.”

“Oh, Winnie. We talked about unrealistic expectations. When you’ve got pie-in-the-sky dreams, no one can live up to them.”

Wyn wanted to hide her face because yes, they had that conversation and yes, her expectations were unreasonably high. Only Lorran exceeded her wildest imagination when it came to devotion and being cherished. It was all the other stuff that came with being married to an alien warrior sworn to defend the galaxy.

“I guess I never really thought about what it’s like to be with a soldier. He’s always on duty. There’s no down time. It’s a dangerous job.” And Mahdfel life expectancies were short. If a warrior was lucky enough to live to old age, he’d live for nearly two hundred years—the internet told her that—but one bad shot could take him from her. When the Suhlik attacked the base, it drove home that fact.

There was knowing something in abstract and then knowing with a blaster pointed in your direction.

Wyn forced a smile on her face. She didn’t call her mother to cry about how much the stress ate away at her. Focus on the positive.

“He’s got a good sense of humor. We’ve been staying,” Wyn searched for a way to massage the truth without explicitly lying to her mother, “on a remote planet. Exclusive. Hardly anyone there. We went hunting, believe it or not, and skating. I’ve even started painting again. And I just really like him, Mom. God, I sound so cheesy.”

Alana’s expression softened. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said, even though she did it herself frequently. “And there’s nothing wrong with being fond of the person you’re married to. It’s recommended, even. Are you back from your honeymoon? Is that your new home? Scooch to the side. You’re blocking my view.”

“We’re in a hotel. We haven’t made it back to his ship yet. I wanted to call you as soon as I could.” Her mother nodded, as if she expected nothing else.

Alana filled Wyn in on the latest family news. Her father had to cut his cholesterol, and apparently eating fish two times a week was more than he could tolerate. The stories and jokes flowed easy. and a yearning for home ached in her chest. She hadn’t lived with her parents since she was nineteen, but she had never been far away from them. They had lunch every Sunday, often with Sonia. Oscar had been a silent participant for years and her parents politely tolerated him, but they hugged and kissed Sonia like their own daughter. Wyn needed to call Sonia too.

“And call Sonia,” Alana said, as if she could read Wyn’s mind. “She’s going on about defying the patriarchy by making art. I mean, that’s not unusual. She’s always going on about the media shaping body image and whatnot, but she’s all on her own now. I’m worried about her.”

Wyn smiled, knowing that Sonia at least listened to her words about making art. “I gave her half of my alien money, to cover my portion of the rent.”

Alana whistled. “That’s a lot of rent.”

“Well, I told her to quit her job and make me some art. I’ll call her as soon as I can,” Wyn said, just as a chime at the door signaled that dinner had arrived. She signed off with her mother, promising to call when she got to the ship.

“You like me,” Lorran said, setting their meal down on the small table. Apparently, he had showered while eavesdropping, as the towel around his waist attested.

“Stop smiling like that.”

“Like what? A male whose mate likes him?” He angled his hips, the light just doing something to the V-cut on his hips, something that made her stutter and forget what they were talking about. The tattoos on his arms glowed a cool silver.

Fang flashed against his lavender complexion. He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Wyn snuggled in, enjoying the fresh, clean scent of generic hotel soap and bare skin. Especially the skin part. The way he held her made her feel delicate, an unusual sensation for a six-foot-tall woman. Delicate and precious.

“You know I love you,” she said, meaning every word. Maybe they hadn’t gotten off to the best start and their experiences together were either sitting in a mildewy room or running for their lives. From one extreme to another, from boredom to panic, they worked well together. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go to a haunted amusement park with.”

“That is an extremely specific quality you demand in a mate. It makes me question your motives.” His voice was warm and soft and did things to her.

“Dinner’s getting cold,” she said.

“I’m not hungry for dinner.”

Wyn wiggled, which somehow pressed her chest closer to him. He did that low growl, and yeah, it did happy squirmy things to her.

Oh hell. It looked like dinner was going to get cold.