Eleven
Three planet rotations later, Balvan carried Elyce through the settlement gates. The only beings waiting outside were Dare, the silver-scaled Dracheon, and three of his friends. It took four males to fill the role of her big male.
Elyce grinned at Balvan.
His eyes glowed. He hefted her higher against his chest as he approached the males, ensuring no one could touch her.
She no longer worried about them making an attempt to do that. All of the warriors showed him the respect he deserved, giving her, his mate, the space she needed.
“Any problems?” Balvan asked Dare.
His communications with other beings were short and curt, contrasting vividly with the longer conversations he had with her. She liked to think he talked more with her because he trusted her, cared for her.
“Four residents left at sunrise.” Dare kept his distance from them. “One returned, covered in blood. The sand dunes will be a boneyard by the time this siege ends.”
Balvan grunted.
There were five new corpses displayed on stakes by the walls. She wrinkled her nose. Those beings must have broken one of the Refuge’s few rules. Kralj and Dita’s vengeance was swift and bloody.
Killing within the walls was one of the rules not to be broken. The more violent residents left the settlement to end lives. That was the only movement in and out of the gates.
Which was why Balvan had set up entertainment for her during their shifts. She peered at the targets erected in the distance.
“The males and I have bets on how many you’ll hit this planet rotation, Elyce.” Dare laughed, strolling toward the open gates. “Take the wind speed into account.”
The gates closed behind the males.
Balvan lowered her until her booted feet touched the ground, rubbing her leather-clad form over his. They had fucked when they woke, yet he was hard and she was needy.
If someone had told her thirty planet rotations ago she would crave a male as much as she craved Balvan, she would have rolled her eyes and told that someone it couldn’t be true. That part of her was dead.
But her big green male had changed her thinking. Elyce leaned against him. She was addicted to his touch.
He licked a thick forefinger and held it up. “Wind is coming from our right.”
She watched the granules of white sand move, using that to judge the wind’s intensity. “I’ll adjust for it.”
She drew one of her guns. Every chance they were given, she practiced. When Marowit came for her, and she was certain he would, she’d be ready.
She slid the lever to shoot, aimed a smidgeon to the right, pressed the trigger. Hard. Balvan had modified its sensitivity.
The projectile blasted outside the inner circle drawn on the target.
“You were close.” Pride edged Balvan’s voice.
Warmth spread over her chest. “I wasn’t close enough.” She adjusted her aim. “Especially since my target will be moving.”
“Not if I see him first.” He rumbled.
She tapped the trigger. The projectile was closer to the center.
She practiced until her arms were sore, then she holstered her gun and leaned against her big male. “If I see him, I’m going to kill him.” She said that with no emotion in her voice, having decided upon that action.
“You won’t see him.” Balvan sounded certain about that. “He won’t enter Kralj’s terrain undetected.”
The Ruler of the Refuge was powerful, but if anyone could circumvent that scary male’s controls, it would be Marowit.
She pushed her concerns to the side and chattered to her big green male, telling him about the nourishment bar formulation she planned to try the next planet rotation. She’d perfected one flavor, would gradually expand the selection.
Balvan was an appreciative recipient of her experiments. He ate her disasters and raved about her successes.
“That dried fruit might be overpowering.” She considered the addition. “Its flavor is—”
He straightened. “Someone is approaching the settlement.”
She slipped behind his body, their routine established. He always stood between her and any other being, using his big form as a shield.
The gates opened. Kralj and Dita walked out of the settlement. Dita’s expression was serious, her lips flat. Kralj’s countenance was shrouded in shadow.
Bad shit was happening. Elyce placed her hands on her guns, ready to draw them if anyone threatened her or Balvan.
“Kralj, sir.” Balvan didn’t look at the Ruler, his tone respectful.
He didn’t address Dita because, as he had explained to Elyce a few planet rotations ago, Kralj didn’t appreciate beings looking at his mate.
He was a possessive male. Balvan was possessive also. Elyce liked that. It made her feel safer.
“Is the being approaching us armed?” Balvan asked.
“No.” Kralj stood beside him.
Dita fell behind her mate, positioning herself next to Elyce. “Guns, huh?” She dipped her head toward the weapons. “They’re not as much fun as daggers.” Dita extracted two daggers from the sheaths on her black body covering, spun them in her hands.
“Guns can kill from a distance.” Elyce shifted her weight from her left to her right foot, uncomfortable being close to Dita’s weapons.
She focused on Balvan’s back, on the expanse of green skin before her. Marowit and his males thought daggers were fun also. They would torture her with their blades.
“I doubt this will be an opportunity for killing.” Dita appeared disappointed about that. “But if it is, I’m ready.”
Elyce suspected the little assassin was always ready to end lives.
They waited and waited and waited. Dita played with her daggers. Elyce admired Balvan’s muscles, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his leather ass coverings clung to his clenched ass cheeks.
He was huge, the epitome of power, and he was hers. She was the fortunate female who slept in his arms every rest cycle, who benefited from his protection, his gentle touch.
His body stiffened, his biceps flexing. Dita nudged Elyce. She peered around Balvan’s big form.
A human male, covered with blood and sweat and sand, staggered toward them, his eyes wide with shock, his expression frantic. “You have to help us. Please. We were attacked at the border.”
“As I warned you would be.” Kralj’s voice held no sympathy. “You received the communication.”
“We needed the credits.” The male rubbed his fingers over the bloodstains on his arm. The crimson mark appeared to be in the shape of a much smaller hand. “The leader has my female. All he wants to do is speak with a girl named Paloma and he’ll release my female unharmed.”
Marowit wanted Paloma, always Paloma. But Elyce knew she hadn’t been forgotten. He would take her also. “His female isn’t unharmed,” she muttered, also realizing that.
Balvan rumbled with unhappiness.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
He had advised her, during previous meetings with strangers, to remain as silent as he did, to not give the enemy any information to use against her.
“She’s right.” Kralj was less concerned about her speaking. “His female isn’t unharmed.” He directed a blast of air in the direction of the male, sand pinging against the merchant’s boots. “Is she?”
“N-n-no.” The male’s bottom lip trembled. “He made me watch as he…”
As he used her. Marowit would find that amusing, taking a male’s female against her will as the male watched. Elyce clenched her jaw.
“You think if you give him an innocent girl, you’ll get your female back alive?” Kralj asked.
“Paloma isn’t an innocent girl.” The male’s hands trembled. “She’s a spy, working against the Humanoid Alliance. He won’t harm her. All he wants to do is find out what she knows.”
He sounded as though he genuinely believed that. Or he wanted to view that as the truth, to excuse his actions, to make the trade palatable for him, for Kralj.
Elyce didn’t trust him, didn’t trust anyone except Balvan.
Desperate beings would do and say almost anything. She recalled the things she’d done to survive and shuddered.
“Elyce.” Kralj’s spooky shadows swirled around her. “Will the male get his female back alive if he gives Paloma to Marowit?”
The all-seeing, all-powerful Ruler knew the answer to his damn question. She pressed her lips together. He would make her relay the bad news to the male.
“No.” She placed her hands on Balvan’s back, needing that extra connection with him. “He won’t get his female back alive if he gives Paloma to Marowit.” She spoke loudly, not wanting to repeat her insights into her abductor’s warped mind. “Marowit will kill his female in front of him.”
The male made a hurting noise.
She paused, feeling his pain, thinking of possible solutions. “If he stays away, his female might escape.” That was unlikely but it could happen. She had escaped. The other female might have the same opportunity. “If he returns, she’s dead.”
The male whimpered and Elyce struggled to control her own emotions. She knew exactly what his female was enduring, wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone.
“Giving Paloma to Marowit will solve nothing. We won’t put another female’s lifespan at risk.” Kralj’s decision drew a louder sound of distress from the male’s throat. “You’re welcome to wait for your female in the Refuge.”
The Ruler and Dita stepped away from the gates, moving as one. Balvan followed their lead, stretching out his arms, keeping Elyce behind him.
She would work on that also—keeping in sync with her big male. They’d become a team like Kralj and Dita were. She’d accompany Balvan everywhere, wouldn’t be alone…as the merchant now was.
He stood before them. A pathway had been cleared between him and the gates yet he didn’t move forward.
The male looked at them and then looked back at where he’d come, his face lined with worry and indecision. There was only one viable option, one choice in which his female had a chance of living.
The male was going to make the wrong decision. Her gut clenched.
“If you go back, you’ll die and your female will die.” She couldn’t remain silent, not when lifespans could be ended. “Give her a chance to escape. Trust that she will survive.” As Elyce had survived.
“Elyce.” Balvan pulled her forward, positioning her in front of him, his arms wrapped around her.
“He can’t return to them, Balvan.” She didn’t regret her outburst. It was the truth. “Marowit will kill them both.”
“I know he will.” Balvan folded her deeper into his big body. “But it isn’t that easy a decision to make.”
“I can’t leave her with him.” The merchant’s face twisted with grief. “You don’t understand. He threatened to do unbearable things to her.”
Elyce understood. She had experienced firsthand what Marowit was likely doing to the female, knew the pain and fear and horror she was likely feeling.
But Balvan was right. It wasn’t that easy a decision. If the merchant returned, they both would die, but his female wouldn’t suffer alone. She wouldn’t feel abandoned, unloved, forgotten.
“I’m going back.” The male turned around, trudged through the sand dunes.
Kralj and Dita looked at each other. Kralj shrugged. They left without a word to Balvan or Elyce, Dita swinging the Ruler’s arm as they walked through the Refuge’s gates.
Elyce stared at the male’s back, unable to discard her concern as easily. Did the merchant have a plan to save his female? She frowned. He was one being, unarmed.
Unarmed.
She extracted a gun from her holster. The weapons gave her a sense of safety. They were gifts from Balvan.
But she only needed one. Two guns were too much for her to handle.
“Give this to him.” She pressed it into one of Balvan’s massive palms.
“Are you sure about this?” Lines appeared between his black eyebrows.
She hesitated for a moment, selfishly wanting to keep the gun, to have that extra layer of protection.
“Yes, give it to him.” She forced herself to say the words.
The gun might make a difference between the merchant and his female living or dying. She would have wanted a being to give her that chance.
“Stay here.” Balvan instructed unnecessarily.
Elyce nodded. She wasn’t going anywhere, not without him.
He lumbered toward the male, his long legs quickly closing the distance between them, and he placed one of his huge hands on the merchant’s shoulder.
The male jumped, gazed up at him, his face growing pale. He must have thought Balvan was there to smack him into the next sector.
Elyce’s male handed him the gun.
The merchant’s head bobbed multiple times. He looked back at Elyce. His mouth moved. He was too far away for her to hear his words.
The male resumed his long trek toward the border. Balvan strode back to her.
“The gun won’t help them.” He pulled her into his arms, his body warm and solid. “They’ll still die.”
“The odds are against them.” She admitted. “But they could beat those odds. They could live, could escape. I survived, didn’t I?” She’d barely lived, however. If Balvan hadn’t given her his nanohumanics, she would have died. He’d saved her lifespan. “The gun will give them a chance against Marowit.”
Maybe they would kill him and Elyce’s nightmare would be finally over.
“You like your guns.” Balvan touched the handle of her remaining weapon.
“I love them. They make me feel powerful.” She covered his hands with hers, trying to convey how much that gift meant to her. “But if I were the female being held by Marowit, you’d want the merchant to have a gun, wouldn’t you?”
“If you were the female, I’d return for you.” Balvan pressed her face against his chest. “I wouldn’t care about the odds.”
Elyce cared about the odds. She wouldn’t want anyone to risk their life for her, especially not Balvan, her mate, her big male.
“You wouldn’t return alone.” She thought about what he’d do. “You’d ask your friends for help, gather all of the firepower you could find, have a plan to retrieve me.”
“Marowit wouldn’t get to you in the first place.” Balvan rubbed his hands over her back, his touch soothing her. “You’ll never be within his reach.”
He wouldn’t risk her life to obtain credits. She settled against her big male. “I hope the other merchants heed Kralj’s warnings.”
Marowit would target anyone venturing close to the settlement’s borders. More beings could die.
Guilt filled her. One of the reasons her abductor was hurting others was because he didn’t have her to torment. She wished she had ended his lifespan before she fled.
But she might not have survived that confrontation. Marowit and his males were skilled with weapons and she had never shot a gun before meeting Balvan
Elyce’s chin lifted. She was stronger, more able to defeat her abductor now.
The gates opened again. Hulagu, the Warlord-in-training, sprinted toward Balvan. She moved behind her big male. Her heart pounded. Her hands trembled.
It was foolish. Hulagu was devoted to Azalea, looked at Balvan with hero worship in his dark eyes. He wouldn’t touch her. But he was large for his number of solar cycles and he was moving fast. That evoked memories she wished she could forget.
“Kralj said you wanted this, sir.” The boy held out a gun.
It was identical to the ones she used.
“Thank you.” Balvan grasped the weapon.
“Do you need help?” Hulagu stood beside his hero, mimicking his stance, his scrawny chest heaving. “I could fight by your side, help you defend the Refuge.” He extended his claws and Elyce took another step away from him.
“There’s no threat.” Balvan tucked her into his side, his arm sheltering her from any accidental gouging.
“There could be a threat.” Hulagu gazed at the sand dunes.
There was a very brief moment of silence.
“The gun is really small.” The boy chattered. “Is it for your mate?”
Balvan grunted and she glowed. He’d replaced her gun immediately, must have sent that thought to Kralj.
“I gave my gerel a set of daggers.” Hulagu’s chest puffed out. “She doesn’t need them. She has the greatest Warlord protecting her.” There was a pause. “That’s me.” He added that as though the statement needed clarification. “I might not be the greatest right now, but I will be very soon. I almost beat Dare during our training bout this planet rotation.”
Balvan lifted his eyebrows.
“If I had been a little faster and turned my body like this”—the boy twisted his torso—“and Dare hadn’t noticed, I would have jabbed my claws upward.” He demonstrated. “And the bout would have been over.”
“Scales,” Balvan murmured, her male back to monosyllables.
“My claws could have pierced them.” Hulagu’s head tilted. “Maybe.” He looked at his claws. “Do you think they could?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in her big male’s answer.
Elyce’s lips quivered, laughter bubbling within her.
“I think they could.” Hulagu ignored Balvan’s input. “If I struck him hard enough.” He practiced a couple of jabs, grunting with the effort.
Balvan ignored the boy, turning to her. He slipped the replacement gun into her empty holster. She caught his wrist and squeezed.
His head dipped toward the boy. She nodded, understanding. They would talk when they were alone.
He was like his boss that way. Neither male liked to have non-critical conversations in front of others.
Dita was Kralj’s private counsel. Elyce was Balvan’s. She liked that. It made her feel special, valued, loved.
“I could defeat Orol.” Hulagu waved his claws. “He doesn’t have scales.”
Balvan simply gazed at the boy. Elyce’s chest shook with suppressed humor. Orol had earned his role as Kralj’s second-in-command. According to Balvan, few warriors on the planet could come close to defeating his friend.
“He flies, though.” The boy’s forehead furrowed. “That will increase the difficulty. You don’t fly.” He glanced at Balvan.
Balvan opened and closed his massive fists. His knuckles cracked.
“I’m not challenging you to a fight,” Hulagu hastily added, his eyes widening.
There was a slight pause.
“Not right now,” the boy said under his breath.
Elyce failed to stifle her grin. Balvan saw it and shook his head. Her smile spread.
It would be a long shift for her big male.