Tor
I was crexed.Well, and truly, crexed. Taking this mission had been a fool’s errand. Yet, the beat she volunteered, I could allow no other to go. The female had more courage and passion than was good for her. I’d subject none of my warriors to her wicked tongue and savage wit. No other Rhonar would be allowed to spar with her, push her, or test her. She’d drive any male to his limit. I was the commander, this was my responsibility.
And she was my mate.
Drav it all to the void!My fingers flew over the controls, the movements a reflection of my swirling emotions. For more rotations than memory, I’d been lost to the void—the biological curse of all Rhonar warriors. With our females taken from us after an attack by our mortal enemy, the Versaken, we’d been lost. Our males experienced two phases, the hunger and the void, which wiped out our emotions, leaving only suffering. A mate was the only way to regain emotions and become whole. With the discovery of the Terrans and the likelihood of their distant relations to us as one of our lost colonies, we had hope once more. Two of my warriors had found their fated mates.
I was the third.
You have no right to claim a Truxoria.I chided the happiness that bubbled within me. Without an appropriate treaty with Earth, the mated Rhonar would never be allowed to explore their bonds. And others would be barred from ever finding their mates. I was the leader of my people, the commander entrusted with our survival. If I did not succeed and provide my warriors with hope, then I would suffer with them.
I would not claim her.Jane.
I mentally slapped myself, my back teeth grinding.Do not say her name, nor even think it.My gaze locked on the screen. I had to resist temptation, no matter the cost. No one knew of the bond that called to me, begging me to become whole. I had not even told my second-in-command and best friend, Galagar, for fear he’d not approve of my decision. It was a lie of omission, and it did not sit well with me. But it had to be done.
I could no more let him know than the little captain. If she found out we were fated mates? Well, the rebellion on Craxon would look like a celebration compared to what she might do.Although the challenge might be fun.
I ground my teeth harder, the accompanying crack inevitable.
Her scent clogged my nose, an enticing mix of sweetness and the wild seas of my home world. It drove me mad with longing. The desire for her collided with the call of the mate bond. My twin hearts beat hard in my chest.I am a warrior. Trained, honed, and disciplined. I will not succumb.
“I don’t mind the silence,” she said, her voice cutting into my resolve as sharp and deadly as the daggers hidden in my vest.
“Then, why break it?” I hissed. My words were harsher than I intended, but the emotional storm within me would not abate. The more I fought it, the harsher it grew.
She sighed and the sound sliced my chest. “Look, you don’t like me. I get it.” Her long, slender fingers came into view beside mine on the control panel. “But we need a truce, or this is going to be a very long mission.”
I didn’t disagree with her but giving up this armor of indifference and arrogance risked too much. I’d not allow it. “It will be shorter without your nagging.”
Her sharp inhale gutted me. “Wow. You’re an even bigger asshole than I thought.”
“You have no idea,” I muttered under my breath. The winds inside me grew to a fever pitch, ravaging my soul.
I’d need to call a florin soon and temper the storm, or I’d be useless to do my duty. The empathetic beings were our most trusted allies. Helping us with their gifts by filling us with emotions when we had none, one of their kind could aid in controlling this windstorm of feeling within me now. In return, the florin siphoned a small amount of energy from us that they needed to live. It was a symbiotic relationship, and without them, the Rhonar would not have survived. They could not replace the need for our mates, but they could slow our downfall.
With the coordinates laid in and little else to do but stare at the emptiness of space through the screen, I toyed with summoning a florin now. I caught a brief glimpse of the source of my torment in my peripheral vision. I needed the florin’s help, but I dreaded explaining the reasoning to my partner. Ire rising within me, I sucked on my tongue to keep it still.
The silence reined between the Terran captain and me.
“Do you have any open space on this vessel?” Her question, breaking the silence, flowed over me like liquid fire.
I stomped on my growing desires, dousing them with icy words. “Does this look like a pleasure cruiser?”
“Enough.” Rising from the co-pilot’s chair with jerky movements, her sudden action after so much inaction drew my gaze. I needed to keep my eyes off her, but I found I could not look away. She spread her legs apart and placed her hands on her hips, staring daggers at me. Her body radiated tension. “If you’re going to be such a bastard, then we might as well do something about it.”
Now she had my full attention. “And what is it you’d like to do little captain?”
Her nostrils flared. If she’d had the ability of the ancient dragons from our shared myths, I’d have bet fire would have shot from them. “I’d like to knock you right on your arrogant ass!” A fist shook in my face, her slender wrist and fingers unlikely to do damage.
I laughed and rose from my seat, intentionally towering over her. “What makes you think you could, little captain?”
She snorted. “You underestimate me.” The smile that stretched across her face was not friendly. “You wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake.”
I suspect not.This Terran was not a weak creature, but I was a Rhonar warrior. The top of her head missed the height of my shoulder by a hair. The muscles in her arms were feminine but defined. Her eyes were keen and sharp. Yet, I outweighed her by a wide margin, and I’d been in battle far longer. She was brave but outmatched. “You wish to put it to the test then?”
Her blue eyes, as bright as the crystals of the Valar caverns, sparkled. “That’s the idea.”
I gave her a once over, purposefully letting my heated gaze linger on her body. Her uniform jacket was navy with silver buttons, the insignia of her military inscribed on the left breast. Patches, no doubt denoting her rank, laid below. Her pants consisted of the same material. It appeared heavy and cumbersome, unfitting for warfare. Her boots were the only piece of her outfit of which I approved. Thick-soled and well-worn, she must have had them for many orbits.
