Текст книги "Alien On Fire"

Автор книги: January Bell

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

I felt safe enough with him in the store to treat him like dog shit.

But how well do I really know Nydo, so-called lost King of Roth?

I’m so involved with my own tangled, fucked-up thoughts that by the time I realize I’m in trouble, it’s much too late.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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NYDO

The denizens and visitors of the station ebb and flow around us,

I’ve been so consumed with my Leigh, with cataloguing every look that crosses her face, every annoyed harrumph and each sweet sigh—that I nearly forgot the mercenaries who tagged us the moment we arrived on the space station.

Stupid of me, considering I know exactly what they plan.

The crowd around us splits wide open, and that’s all the warning I receive. The Roth mercenaries crowd around us. Their gear is mismatched and well-worn, their eyes hard. I reach for my Leigh, but I’m not fast enough. Rough hands close around her shoulders, and a plas rifle presses against my temple. They should be targeting me, and me alone.

The mercenaries are prepared, and I am not. I am, however, enraged. They will rue the day they chose to touch a hair on her head.

I am the Roth King.

Flames burst all along my skin, the barely checked energy I’ve been siphoning all day unleashed. Screams echo through the station hub, and the Roth mercenaries blink at the display of power and aggression.

Let them shrink before me.

“I am your king,” I roar.

No one will step in between us, no one on these lawless stations gives two shits about anything but their own hides. We’re on our own.

Good thing I am their worst nightmare.

My flames flare hotter, licking the skin of the males nearest me, who are wise enough to flinch away, giving me a wide berth.

“Let me go,” Leigh screams. The noise rends me wide open, a raw wound of terror as I swing to face the male holding her. A plas knife flashes in her hand, but not fast enough. I should have told her to take a different weapon. I should have told her the plas rifle she wanted initially would have been a better choice. The male’s fist crunches against her temple, and the hood slips off her head in the struggle, her hair glinting in the light of the station.

“That is my mate,” I hiss, my voice low and quiet. Deadly. “You dare hurt my mate. My queen.”

None of this, none of our trip to this station, is going according to my plan. This is not what I wanted. Leigh’s body is limp, her shoulders sagging and face lax, held up by the same one who struck her.

They will die for this. I stalk towards the male holding her, who, in his cowardice, thrusts her limp body towards me.

If he thinks this will deter me, distract me from my vengeance, he is sorely mistaken.

I catch my Leigh with one arm, the cloak protecting her body from my heat, the reason I ordered the tailor to make it from the fabled modgal of the lava plains. I tug the hood back over her head, and round on the male who dared hurt her.

“You will die for raising your hand against your queen,” I snarl.

A plas pulse whizzes past my head. I don’t slow. I don’t stop.

And I regret nothing as I incinerate the male who dared hurt my Leigh, watching him burn to ashes with nothing but malice and contempt in my heart. The rest of the mercenaries flee, disappearing into the gathering crowd, but not before I catch the scent of their fear on the air. I haul my lovely female into my arms, making for the ship as fast as I can.

This is not what I imagined happening.

I can only hope her delicate human bones have withstood the attack. I chance a glance down at her, my heart hurting, distress at her unconscious state spurring me to move faster still.

Violent red and purple blossom across her temple, and her skin is paler than usual, her human freckles standing out in stark relief to the light, light color. Her lips are parted, and shallow breath gusts against my hand as I check it.

“I would kill him again if I could, my Leigh,” I tell her.

I should have protected my mate.

I have failed her.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

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LEIGH

The room swims as I open my eyes, and I immediately roll to my side, throwing up.

“Why is it spicy?” I whine. Someone blots the back of my neck, and I’m grateful for that, at least.

“She’s awake,” a male voice booms. Too fucking loud. I wince.

“Shh,” I say, but even making that noise is too much.

A door slams, and I squeeze my eyes shut, curling into a ball. My face hurts, oh my god, my whole face hurts. I try grinding my teeth, but they don’t even make contact on the side of my face that’s screaming pain at me.

Something pinches my arm, and a calm voice says, “That’s an analgesic. For the pain. I also put an anti-nausea med in it. It should help.”

I blink up at the person talking, only to realize belatedly it’s not a person at all.

It’s a Roth. It’s Nydo. My fake mate. He’s still holding me in his arms, and now he’s blotting my mouth, his forehead creased with worry, his mouth a thin line.

He blots at my skin, the back of my neck.

“You are going to be alright,” he tells me, running a damp cloth over my temple. “You took a nasty hit to the head, but you’re a fighter, aren’t you, my Leigh?”

I try to nod, I try to tell him yes, I am a fighter, but it hurts.

So I fall asleep again instead.

Nydo

I can’t leave her side. I won’t.

This is my fault. I thought I had every aspect of our trip to the station under control. I should have insisted that Lyko come with me, instead of telling him to stay with the ship, because I stupidly wanted to be alone with her.

With Leigh.

Leigh, who I won’t let out of my arms, who sleeps fitfully, as I give her pain meds around the clock, along with ice packs along her temple.

Her friends check on us often, shooting me slightly terrified looks when I bristle at them. They help me spoon broth into her mouth, changing out the ice packs and cool compresses when they are too warm, which happens often, because of the energy discharging around me.

I want her to be okay.

I want to see that fight in her eyes again.

I want her to open her eyes.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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LEIGH

My mouth is dry.

It’s the only thing I can concentrate on, until my eyes open and I realize I have no fucking clue where I am.

A ship. I close one eye, like that’s going to help me deduce my location.

I’m hungry.

“I have to pee,” I say out loud. My lips crack at the effort, my mouth the Sahara.

“Oh my god,” Piper says, her hand on my arm. “You’re awake. Thank goodness. Oh, Leigh, we’ve been worried sick.” And at that, she bursts into tears.

A door hisses open, and Billie runs in, frantic.

“You’re awake,” she whisper-shouts at me.

“Gotta pee,” I answer, frowning at her.

“Thank fuck! I never thought I’d be so happy to hear someone had to pee, but here we are!”

I wince at the volume, and she resumes a loud whisper. “Sorry.” Billie fidgets with her top, then shoots Piper a look. “It’s just… you’ve been out for a day and a half now. You had a major concussion. We did everything we could with the med kit to speed your healing, but it was scary, Leigh.”

“Sorry,” I manage. I sit up slowly, and Piper braces an arm along my back, Billie scurrying to my other side. They help me walk to the ship’s small bathroom, and sure enough, my head pounds at the minimal exertion.

I try not to be embarrassed as Piper helps me go to the bathroom.

“You know, he hasn’t left your side.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Who?” Billie repeats, folding her arms over chest and fixing me with an exasperated look. “Nydo. The heir apparent to the lost throne of Roth. The guy who torched half the mercenaries who came after you.”

“He’s been the one taking care of you the whole time,” Piper says softly. “We had to force him to leave your side so he could get some rest.”

“Yeah, I thought he was going to lose his mind,” Billie adds. “He’s pretty scary.”

I finish using the bathroom, digesting what they’ve told me.

“Torched half the mercenaries?”

“You don’t remember any of it?” Billie asks, sharing another look with Piper. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

I glance up at my reflection out of habit, flinching at the sight of my face. My temple is black and blue, green spiraling down my jaw and vivid dark purple half-moons under my eyes.

“Looks good with my hair,” I try joking.

“We have some cream we’ve been putting on it. It’s already helped so much. I bet your bruises will be gone in another day or two, by the time we get to Ikkox settlement to recruit more Roth.”

“Yeah, and you guys are blowing up all over the vids,” Billie adds.

“What?” I flop back into bed, exhausted from the short trip to the bathroom. Piper helps fluff my pillow, and I turn on my good side, watching them.

The vids were one of the first ways Earth managed to catalogue alien races. After the Roth invaded, they left enough tech behind that we could exponentially increase our capabilities through reverse engineering. Vids were the streams we caught on alien frequency, and that’s how we started figuring out that we weren’t alone in the universe with just the Roth.

I shiver, remembering the first Suevan vid I saw, of a warlord ripping the spine out of a Roth during the settlement wars. Gross.

“How bad is it?” I finally ask.

“Do you think we should show her?” Piper asks Billie, patting me gingerly, like I’m a hot potato she’s tucked into tinfoil and not a human in a blanket.

“She’s right here and she would like to see it,” I grit out. Fuck. I gotta get better, because I can’t stand people handling me like I’m fragile glass. Though, at the moment, my skull feels very breakable indeed.

“Show her,” Billie says.

“Screens might be bad for her recovery,” Piper argues.

“Show me,” I demand.

“It’s not like it lasted long,” Billie tells Piper, pulling a comms tablet out. “More like wham, bam, fricasseed Roth, thank you, ma’am.”

“That’s not why I didn’t want her to see it,” Piper murmurs, raising one eyebrow.

Billie exhales noisily, then props the tablet up on my lap, selecting one of the streams. She’s saved it to her favorites, and I try to give her a meaningful look, but my face is too swollen to do anything but glance at her.

Nydo fills up the screen, wreathed in flame, a god of fire.

My breath catches.

He’s terrifying, his eyes glowing furious orange, the Roth mercenaries grabbing me while I flail at them with a knife, a moment before a huge grey fist lands on my face.

“Hang on, I forgot the sound,” Billie says, then slides the volume bar up on the side.

“That is my mate,” the Nydo on screen says, his voice quiet and all the scarier for it.

I blink, shock at his conviction pulsing through me.

“You dare hurt my mate. My queen.”

I flinch, watching my limp body sway in the hands of a Roth mercenary who looks like he’s about to piss himself. Can’t say I’m mad he didn’t. Gross. I feel oddly detached, watching myself on the screen.

“You will die for raising your hand against your queen,” he roars, and it’s a promise.

The screen turns white, and then the feed picks up from a different angle. There’s a massive crater of melted metal, and all the Roth mercenaries who ringed Nydo and I are dead, completely burnt to a crisp.

My stomach heaves at the carnage, and I slap a hand over my mouth.

“Yeah, I know, right?” Billie says, but she seems pleased.

“That’s… horrible,” I say. I lean forward, watching my slack face bob as Nydo hauls me away from the scene. “How did I not burn up, too? Christ on a cracker, that was… awful.”

“I don’t think he’s playing,” Billie says, taking the tablet off my lap.

“Ya think?” I say. “That looked real to me.”

“That’s not what she means. Billie and I think…” Piper trails off, then retrieves a comb, brushing gently through my tangles.

“Spit it out,” I manage, my head aching.

“We think he believes you are actually his mate,” Billie says cheerily.

“No. He tried to abduct Captain Jacks to mate, too,” I tell her. “He told me about, she told me about it. Everyone knows about it.”

“Nah,” Billie shakes her head.

“Lyko said that Nydo’s energy manipulation abilities have only increased since he found you. Lyko said it’s a sign you are actually his mate,” Piper offers, the comb still working through my hair. “I think… I think that you might actually be his fated mate. Or, at the very least, he believes you are.”

“Humans don’t have mates,” I tell her.

It doesn’t come off sincere. I don’t know what to think.

Hell, it hurts to think.

“Are you upset that he killed all those men?” Piper asks gently, watching my expression with careful eyes.

“No. Those fuckers deserved it. They weren’t just there to knock me out. They would have done worse.”

“Bloodthirsty as ever, I see,” Nydo’s voice rings out, and a fresh wave of dizziness washes over me as he studies me. I didn’t even see him come in.

“Bye,” Billie says quickly, and Piper even stands up, passing the comb to Nydo.

The two cowards practically sprint to the door, which I hadn’t even realized was wide open.

I watch them flee, then force myself to glance up at Nydo.

He casually walks over to the door, and the mechanism whirrs as it closes and locks.

I gulp.

“Are you thirsty?”

“I am,” I say, watching him. Studying him. Maybe it’s time to go ahead and lay all the cards on the table. To figure out if this is some act or if he actually thinks…. Well, if he actually thinks what Piper said.

That I’m his.

That I’m his fated mate.

He pours a glass of crystal-clear water, the liquid musical as it hits the bottom of the metal cup. I try to take it from him, but he smiles down at me, then raises the side of the cup to my lips.

I’m not sure I like it. I definitely don’t like feeling weak and shitty, but I’m also not sure I dislike how he’s caring for me.

I know I don’t like him though.

Right?

I try to shake my head, but it only makes the headache worse.

“Nydo,” I say quietly, my fingers twisting through the soft fabric of the sheets. “Did you hear what they said?”

He sits down heavily, but still gently so as not to disturb me, on the side of the bed. The same bed he held me in only… two mornings ago.

I can’t believe a whole day and a half has slipped by.

“That I truly believe you are mine?”

My eyes scan his face, looking for a hint of irony, or dishonesty, or humor.

But what I see is a male who looks… exhausted. Dark grey circles are under his eyes, and his whole face seems tired. His long, blue-black hair is tied back in a top knot at the back of his head, and it only serves to accentuate his ridiculously good-looking bone structure.

“I owe you an apology,” he starts, and I let him talk, surprised that he’s admitting he did anything wrong. “I never should have taken you to the station without Lyko and Ayro as honor guards. I should have known it was too unpredictable a situation, no matter my… no matter. It’s my fault that you have been hurt, and the memory of you,” he pauses, his throat working as he swallows, his eyes glowing faint orange as he stares at me, the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “The memory of you being hurt will haunt me for the rest of my days.”

What am I supposed to say to that?

“Nydo,” I say, and my hand reaches up for him.

He catches it in his, then surprises me by pressing it against his cheek, closing his eyes as he leans into it. His skin is so soft, so warm, and for an instant, I want to… I want to hope that he is more than the villain in my story.

Maybe that’s the concussion talking, though.

“Hearing you say my name almost makes me believe that we will pull this off. That this will have a happy ending for you, for us both.” He stands so abruptly that my hand drops back to the bed, then he turns away, the door opening and unlocking as he walks towards it.

“Now sleep,” he commands, his infuriating, imperious tone firmly back in place.

The door shuts behind him and I’m left alone, in the dimness of his sleeping quarters, to ponder what the hell he meant by a happy ending for us both.

My happy ending is supposed to be returning to Earth.

Isn’t it?

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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LEIGH

Nydo crawls into bed with me. I roll into him, craving his heat, craving his touch. He slides a hand between my legs, murmuring my name as he slicks his fingers into my sex, his eyes gold and orange in the dark. His mouth closes over mine, his tongue delving against my lips, a wild force of need and lust, his strong, hard body tugging me even closer.

“Nydo, Nydo,” I say, close to begging him to let me come, to give me more. “Please!” I yell.

I startle awake at the sound of my own voice and, blinking, reality crashes over me.

I’m alone.

I was dreaming… and it wasn’t just any dream. I was having a sex dream about Nydo.

Probably another weird concussion side effect.

But I can’t go to back to sleep for a good, long while.

I wake up the next morning to Piper slathering cream all over my face. I blink as the lights turn brighter, annoyed to find that the dissipating headache means my libido’s roared back to life.

The memory of last night’s dream crashes over me and I groan, squeezing my eyes shut, my body aching with the need for release.

And all I can think about is how good Nydo felt against me in my damn dream.

“Oh no, are you still in pain?”

“No,” I answer Piper, forcing myself to smile. “I mean yes, but it’s not bad at all.”

“Oh good, that’s so good. You look way better this morning. Which is great, considering how horrible you looked last night. Just some makeup on you, and then you should be ready to go. Well,” she crinkles her nose, “that and maybe a shower. You smell like barbecue.”

“Yuck.”

“No kidding,” she agrees, standing up and peering down at me.

“What do you mean, makeup?” I finally latch on to something besides the phantom memory of Nydo’s fingers sliding inside me. “Who cares?”

“Considering you have to be on planet today, at the Roth settlement. We made good time. We’re docking in an hour.”

“Fuck,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, you can at least shower and look nice. I’ll do your makeup and help get you ready,” Piper says. “It will be like… I don’t know, before the Roth invasion. When we could get ready to go out and party with our friends.”

“Piper,” I say slowly, gingerly testing the side of my face with my fingertips. “Do you just… are you okay with this? I mean, their species fucked up our entire world. And now we’re… dressing like them, and we’re with them, and we’re helping these three.”

Her smile disappears, and her blue eyes turn serious. “I have to believe that Nydo and his brothers are the solution they’re trying to be. I have to believe that we’re doing the right thing, and that by overthrowing the Overlord, we will stop any more humans from being murdered by them. Or enslaved, or bred, or whatever else.”

“But do you really believe Nydo and his brothers are a better option? You saw what he’s capable of.” I shiver, the memory of the vid making me queasy.

“I saw him protect you. That’s what I saw, Leigh. I saw a Roth who killed his own kind to keep you safe. I don’t think anyone has seen that before.” With that, she motions for me to get up. “Now go shower.”

The door hisses open, and my heart thuds faster against my chest as Nydo walks in. He still seems somewhat disheveled, and his gaze fastens on me and doesn’t let go.

“You look… well,” he says, his tone formal.

“I’ll be back to do your hair and makeup,” Piper promises me.

“She will do it herself,” Nydo tells her.

I scowl at him, then stop, blushing furiously as my brain slips in the memory of how good his mouth felt on mine, his fingers inside me.

“Fine,” Piper says, clearly annoyed with him. “I’ll see you when we’re ready to go planetside, then.”

“Lyko is in the gym,” Nydo tells her.

I blink at Piper. Why would she care where he is?

Then she leaves, and I’m left alone with Nydo.

And I have no freaking clue what to do.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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NYDO

My heart beats louder when Leigh is around. Every cell in my body seems to work faster, better, with her by my side. I scour her face for signs of her wound, but other than a purple-green bruise yellowing across her temple, she seems well.

“How did you sleep?” I ask her, worry still choking me every time I see the evidence of my idiocy marked across her face.

Her face flames crimson, and I catch the faintest hint of her arousal in the air.

I raise an eyebrow, skating my gaze across her body. Her nipples prick beneath the thin sleepshirt she wears, and her delectable perfume grows stronger.

Interesting.

I wet my lips, struggling to remain on topic.

“Why did you tell Piper she couldn’t help me? You know, it’s dangerous for a person with a head injury to shower alone. I think.” She frowns, as if even she doesn’t quite know if she’s telling the truth.

A smirk lifts one corner of my mouth. “You are afraid to shower alone?”

Her mouth twists to one side. “I mean, no, but—”

I cut her off there. “No but. If you are afraid to shower alone, then I will assist you. That’s why I sent your friend away, because as your mate,” I draw out the word, eliciting a scowl from my little flame, “as your mate, it is my honor to prepare you for your first official outing as my queen.”

“Um, no,” she snorts, but her eyes dart around nervously, resting anywhere but on my face. Her arousal scent heightens.

“As you wish…” I shrug one shoulder, but I don’t turn to go.

“It’s…” She pauses, licking her lips. Leigh’s gaze finally meets mine, and there’s a desperate, heart-stopping quality to it.

“I will stay here in case you need assistance,” I tell her, even though acting honorably is the last thing I want to do around this female. But I will try.

I do not want to.

Her face turns a deeper pink, her green eyes wide and somewhat glassy. I peer at her, trying to suss out whatever it is she’s trying to work herself up to admitting.

“I do… need assistance,” she says, and one red eyebrow raises. White teeth bite at her bottom lip, and a low growl begins deep in my chest. My cock surges to full attention, and I grit my teeth, attempting to ignore the renewed lust raging through me.

“Then I will give it to you, however you require.”

“You can’t… make fun of me. Or… like, I don’t know, be an asshole.”

“That’s what you need?” My brow crinkles as I stare at her, utterly confused. “For me to be nice?”

“Fuck!” she shouts, then winces, rubbing her forehead. “No. I mean, yes. Be nice to me too, for crying out loud. But what I need, Nydo, is for you to get me off and not be an asshole about it.” Her chin juts out, and I blink at her, not quite believing what I’ve just heard.

“Get you off the bed?” I manage, trying my best to understand.

“You said you weren’t going to make fun of me,” she mutters.

“I am not making fun of you. I am, however, trying to understand what you’re asking me to do. Get you off the ship?”

She throws her hands up in the air, and I’m momentarily distracted from getting to the bottom of this mystery by the way her breasts move under her sleepshirt.

“You know, help me out.” She widens her eyes and tilts her head at me, as though this gesture will help me deduce the nature of her request. “Ugh! You know, play me like DJ Tom Diddleston. Find the pearl in the oyster. Pet the moist folds. Hell, what would Bex say? Probe the love channel. Make me see stars, fireworks in the sheets, get freaky-deaky with it.”

She speaks faster than usual, her face getting redder and redder, and I blink, trying to process her words. When she stops, she briefly squeezes her eyes shut and carefully pinches the bridge of her nose.

I stare at her.

She stares at me.

Seconds tick by.

Only when her arousal scent intensifies do I realize what she’s saying.

“Are you asking me to fuck you?” I finally manage.

Leigh’s beautiful face scrunches up slightly, and then she winces and her expression goes blank again.

“Have I misunderstood? What is a DJ Tom Diddleston?”

“I am…” She pauses, taking an enormous breath. “I am asking you to get me off. Yes. If you can use your powers, cool. If you want to use your hands, that’s cool too. But I am… wound up. I need release, and badly.”

My cock strains against my pants, and I continue to stare at her, desire erupting through me, a raging inferno that threatens all my good sense.

As though I’ve had any sense around this female to begin with.

“You would let me… help you with that?”

“If you don’t want to—”

I reach her in record time, putting my hands around her waist, soaking in the feeling of the muscles under her skin, the fluttering of her heart.

Her eyes dilate, and her perfume sweetens the air once more.

“I want to,” I growl. I slant my head, prepared to taste the sweetness of her mouth, the sweetness that has too long been denied to me.

“Wait,” she holds up a finger.

I suck in a breath, baring my teeth with impatience.

“We need ground rules.”

I twitch with the need to taste her, but I hold still, refusing to give in to my basest needs. Refusing to ruin this small, hard-won trust.

What for her will only be release will be the greatest pleasure of my miserable life. Finally, finally, claiming my mate.

“What kind of rules?” I make myself ask when it’s clear she won’t continue until I’ve acknowledged her.

“I don’t want you bragging about it, or talking about it, or anything like that.”

I stare at her. “You think I would need to share the most intimate details of our pleasure with others?”

“I—”

“Done,” I interrupt, tracing the palm of my hand up from her waist to the curve of her breast.

She audibly swallows.

“And,” she whispers, as I bring my mouth close to her warm skin again.

“And what?”

“No kissing,” she murmurs, her brow furrowed, like she expects me to blow up.

“What if I want to taste you?”

Leigh makes a small coughing sound, her green eyes wide. From the way her body’s gone soft and pliable next to me, I know she likes that idea.

It makes me feel invincible.

“No kissing on the lips,” she amends. “Call me Julia Roberts, but I’m not going to do that either.”

“I have to call you by a different name?” Puzzled, I pause my gentle caress on her side.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” She pulls back and I growl again, confused by her actions. “And one last rule. This isn’t about feelings.”

My teeth grind together.

“This is just about sex. There won’t be any emotions involved. Just sex. Right? Because we’re pretending… to be mates.”

The hurt that blossoms in my chest is so acute that I drop my gaze from her pretty face to my own body, because I’m half convinced I’ll find a blade there.

There’s nothing, though, just a dull ache where her words burrowed under my skin, needling me to the point of pain.

So she doesn’t want to be emotionally involved with me?

“Just sex then?” I say roughly, dragging my hand up the unblemished side of her neck, until my fingers twine in the glorious fall of her ruddy hair. “No emotions. No kissing, except on your sweet little cunt?”

She exhales, her eyes already half-lidded.

They hurt me, her words.

But if it’s sex she wants, release she craves, then I will make it so good for her that she will have no other choice but to finally give all of herself to me.

I’m not pretending at being mates.

It’s only ever been real to me.

“Then we have a deal,” she finally says, her voice husky with need.

“We have an agreement,” I rasp. And finally, finally—I bring my mouth to her jawline, kissing lightly up the side of her neck, behind her ear.

One hand cradles the back of her head, the other falling to her lower back, then her ass, as I tug her pants off.

She will be screaming my name before I’m done with her.

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