CHAPTER TWO
“Oh, shit.”
Janelle thought she’d been ready to face the horde of warriors coming off the ship, but when the giant alien landed just ten feet from her, her legs had nearly buckled. His skin was solid black, and his wings remained unfurled to their full breadth. He watched her with burning red eyes, his gaze intense, hungry.
He was monstrous, terrifying, and yet, oddly sexy with all his rippling muscles on display. Thankfully, instincts kicked in, and she shuffled her feet through the sand, moving closer to Travo’s side as if he could protect her.
Big mistake.
“Mine!”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Janelle chanted as she ducked behind her protector. “Travo, do something!”
“It is not my place.” His massive frame tensed as if preparing for battle. “Step away from me, Janelle.”
“What?” Her eyes locked with the monster again. “Not on your life, buddy.”
When the warrior roared and charged toward her, she did the only thing that made sense. She threw the rocks in her hand at him, then climbed up Travo’s back like he was a jungle gym.
“Stay back!” she warned the demon. “I have a warrior, and I’m not afraid to use him.”
“I am not your warrior,” Travo growled, twisting and turning, trying to remove her from his back without hurting her. “Are you trying to get me killed, female?” He froze, dropped his head and sighed. “Fuck.”
“Mine!”
Janelle had just enough time to push off Travo and roll across the sand before the warrior from the visiting clan dove at her friend and tackled him to the ground. Digging her heels into the sand, she scrambled backwards in a stuttering crabwalk, stopping only when something sharp stabbed into her palm. With a hiss, she dug through the sand, curling her fingers around the long, broken branch triumphantly, then sprung to her feet.
Mercifully, the demon had expended no more effort in trying to hurt Travo. Instead, he kicked the male in the ribs, almost like an afterthought, and turned to prowl toward her again, watching her with that hot, intense gaze that made her tremble.
“Stay back!” she shouted, brandishing the stick at the approaching male. “I mean it. Get back!”
This gave him pause, but he seemed to take her warning as a challenge. A cocky smirk curved his black lips, revealing long, pointed fangs that glistened wetly in the sunlight.
“You are brave, little one.”
“Not really,” she countered. She wanted to be, but mostly, she was just running on adrenaline. “If you come any closer, I’m going to stab your eyes out with this.” She jabbed the stick at him again to make her point. “Stop!”
“Don’t be afraid.” His voice was little more than a growl. “I would never hurt you.”
“No, you just want to jump my bones and knock me up.”
The warrior jerked back, clearly offended. “I would never knock your bones.”
Despite everything—her anxiety, the tense situation, the fact that Travo’s lower lip was bleeding—Janelle laughed. She laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks and her belly hurt. She laughed until all the fear and uncertainty bled away. Their miscommunication was exactly what she’d needed to remind herself that this wasn’t Earth, and these weren’t men.
She was in their world now, and she was practically spitting all over their traditions. Basically, she had two choices. She could try to run, knowing the male would catch her easily, or she could stop fighting and just accept that she was about to become someone’s entire reason for living.
No pressure or anything.
“Okay,” she whispered, dropping the stick to the ground. Shoulders back, head held high, she stared up at the warrior and offered him a wobbly smile. “Normally, I’d insist you at least buy me a drink before you sink that hardware into my neck. In this case, however, I’ll be happy with a name.”
The big guy seemed damn pleased by her response. “Chieftain Vischer Roak of the Black Winds Clan.”
“Okay, Vischer. I’m Janelle Joyce.”
“Janelle.”
Her body jerked, an ache blossoming between her thighs at the way he purred her name. “So, I guess I’m your mate, huh?”
He nodded calmly, but his muscles bunched with the effort he exerted to hold himself back from her. Several other warriors landed on the beach behind him, but Janelle saw them only in her periphery as she held Vischer’s gaze.
“Okay,” she repeated. Sweeping her hair back, she pulled down the right shoulder of her gown and titled her head to the side in offering. “Then, come and get me.”
Vischer growled, a low rolling sound filled with lust. The acrid scent of fear still lingered on her skin, but she wasn’t running. She didn’t cry or beg.
She’d tried to fight him. The memory made his grin stretch wider. Nothing else could have broken through the madness he’d felt from the moment he’d scented her. Nothing except seeing his small, defenseless mate challenge him with nothing more than a broken branch.
When she’d climbed atop the Krell warrior, every part of him had called out for blood. Yes, he would have killed the male, regardless of blame, without a second thought. Then, he’d heard his mate hiss in pain, and his need to care for her had overshadowed his rage.
He didn’t know what had changed her mind, but seeing her there, still afraid but offering herself to him willing, his thin thread of self-control snapped. Closing the distance in two long strides, he swept her into his arms, crushing her soft body against his chest, and struck hard, embedding his fangs into the velvety skin at her throat.
Janelle jerked, a soft cry falling from her lips, then melted into him with a breathy sigh. When her soft, tiny hand came up to stroke the side of his face, he did a little jerking of his own, sliding his canines deeper into her flesh. Unfortunately, the sudden movement made his head shift, only a fraction of an inch, but it was enough for the tip of his left fang to graze the vein that snaked down the side of her neck.
She wouldn’t have felt it, and she wouldn’t bleed, but it did create another complication. He’d bitten her to claim her and induce her mating heat. Normally, she’d have several minutes before the heat triggered, but his slip meant he’d injected his scent marker directly into her blood stream. If he had to guess, he’d say she had less than a minute before it started.
“My sweet, beautiful mate,” he whispered, feeling his body reverting to his usual form. He nuzzled the mating mark on her neck, then skimmed his nose along the curve of her jaw. “I would kiss you now.”
Janelle looked up at him, her blue eyes dazed, and nodded.
Cradling her face in his hands, he slanted their mouths together, delving between her pink lips. He groaned at the taste of her, his cock pulsing in time with his heartbeat, but he didn’t have even a moment to linger.
“We must go.”
“Wow,” Janelle breathed. “I didn’t know it would be like that.” Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “That heat thing is going to start now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and soon, which is why we mustn’t tarry. Come.”
She took his hand, following him to the water’s edge without argument, but that was as far as they made it before she cried out and doubled over in obvious pain. The heat the burst from her in pulsing waves was enough to make every male in the vicinity groan, which tripped Vischer into another territorial rage.
Snarling a warning at his warriors, he tried to lift his mate into his arms, but her body contorted as her beautiful eyes clouded with agony. Perspiration beaded across her brow, her skin flushed an alluring pink, and she clutched at his shoulders, her nail biting into his skin.
“Please,” she panted, falling to the sand as tremors wracked her small frame. “Please, Vischer. Help me. Make it stop.”
Janelle curled into a ball on the sand as fire coursed through her body. Stars burst behind her closed lids. Her veins boiled. Her head pounded. Every muscle clenched, twisted, spasmed.
She’d heard the stories from the claimed humans back at Kings Castle, but nothing had prepared her for the consuming heat. Surprisingly, Vischer’s bite hadn’t hurt, not really. There had been a fleeting sting, then the feeling had morphed into a low, cautious thrum of anticipation. The gentle pulls on her neck as he drew her blood inside of him had felt strangely…right.
Fuck, she really was losing her mind. Nothing about this was right. Hell, it wasn’t even in the same universe as right.
Another shockwave ripped through her, pulling a ragged moan from deep within her chest. Something had to be wrong. This wasn’t anything like what the other women had described. A deep, aching throb pulsed between her thighs. Her breasts tingled, and her nipples tightened. All good signs, but no one else had mention being curled in the fetal position while they burned alive.
“Okay,” Vischer murmured as he knelt in the sand beside her. “It’s okay. I’m going to take away the pain. I’m going to make it better, but you have to let me in, rikka.”
Because of the language download to her brain, she recognized the endearment, but found no translation. In the Vor language, it meant something like “beloved,” but it was so much more than just a word. It was more like…a prayer.
The last time she’d been the center of someone’s world, she’d ended up bleeding out at the bottom of a pool. Despite having just met him, and the fact she was trying desperately not to spontaneously combust, she didn’t fear Vischer. She trusted him, far more than logic dictated. When she’d been in his arms, even as his fangs had ravished her neck, she’d felt safe, protected.
“Please,” she whimpered, arching her back and rubbing against him when he moved to cover her with his massive body. “Hurts.”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered they were still on the shore, right out in the open for anyone to see, but she no longer cared about propriety. The guards stood several yards away, surrounding them in a loose circle. Each one of them had their backs turned, giving her and Vischer the illusion of privacy, but still ready to defend their chieftain while he was vulnerable to attack.
She registered all of this in the way one might observe the weather report. Then, another tide of heat ripped through her, and she forgot about everything except the male looming over her.
“Please.” She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but her muscles clenched tight, holding her body immobile.
“Relax,” Vischer purred.
Sweet Jesus, that sound. Her body instantly obeyed his will, her legs parting for him before the act registered with her brain. Oh, yeah, the purring really did it for her, and she wanted to hear it again.
There was the distinct rustling of fabric, then strong, warm hands slid up the outside of her thighs, pushing her gown up over her hips. Vischer’s massive black wings unfurled from his back, curving around them to blot out the sunlight and allow her a modicum of modesty.
Even in the midst of her crazed lust, she found herself touched by the gesture. His eyes blazed red again, and the black stripes across his skin seemed to pulse as they expanded and contracted. She could only imagine how tightly he leashed himself to hold on to his current form, and she instinctively realized he did so because he didn’t want to frighten her.
Her hand quivered as she reached up to touch his face, but not from fear, not this time. “Kiss me, Vischer.”
His mouth crashed down on hers with a hunger that stole her breath. His massive body settled into the cradle of her hips, the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly against her core, and she shuddered in anticipation at the feel of him. Delving between his lips, she swept her tongue across his, moaning throatily at the dark, spicy taste.
Vischer shifted slightly to the side as he reached between them to guide the head of his cock to her entrance. A moment of panic evaded her euphoria when she realized just how damn big he was, and her body clenched once more.
“Don’t be afraid, rikka.” Leaning over her, he nuzzled the mating mark on the side of her neck as he purred again. “I would never hurt you.”
Just like before, her body instantly relaxed, and she arched her hips to signal her readiness. Vischer didn’t hesitate. Her only warning was a tightening at the corners of his eyes, then he plunged into her, filling her in one deft stroke.
Her world shattered.
Thrashing her head back and forth in the sand, she called out his name as her orgasm tore through her, breaking her apart and sending her flying. Her pussy clenched in waves, grabbing him, pulling him deeper to prolong the pleasure.
“Beautiful,” he whispered into the hollow just behind her ear. “So soft. So perfect.”
Even as the world came back into focus, Janelle felt the heat building. “It’s happening again.”
“Don’t be afraid,” he repeated as he began a slow, deliberate rhythm. “I will ease you, my mate.”
It didn’t take long for his movements to become wild and forceful, but she relished every hard, demanding thrust. His hand slid under her, his fingers splayed against her lower back, and he lifted her hips up from the sand to change the angle. Janelle went wild, panting and moaning as she gripped his shoulders, his biceps, trying to touch any part of him she could reach.
“Again,” he growled. “Come for me, rikka.”
He punctuated the command with a hard swivel of his hips that sent her careening over the edge once again. As her inner walls milked him, Vischer buried himself to the base and stilled, his body vibrating through his own climax.
Sated and limp, she practically melted into the sand with a contended sigh. His length was still swollen inside her, locking them together, and she’d never felt so full. Toying with the ends of his dark, silky hair, she smiled against his temple. She figured she should probably say something, but her mouth refused to work, and her lids grew heavy. No matter how much she struggled to keep her eyes open, her body betrayed her, dragging her into the comforting arms of sleep.
Realizing his mate had fallen into unconsciousness, Vischer eased from her body once the swelling had subsided, tucked himself back inside his leathers, then tugged her dress down over her creamy thighs. Only when he was satisfied that she was covered did he open his wings, but he didn’t retract them. She was peaceful now, but the reprieve wouldn’t last long. She’d need him again soon, and he intended to have her back in his quarters on the ship before that happened.
Oh, she was magnificent. Lovely beyond words, and so incredibly soft, she was everything he’d ever wanted in a mate but hadn’t let himself hope could exist. She’d offered herself to him freely, eagerly, and her lithe body had gripped him so tightly he’d nearly lost his mind from the pleasure.
Sliding his arms beneath her sleeping form, he lifted her easily and stood, cradling her protectively against his chest. She moaned a little and curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder so that her silky, golden hair spilled down his chest. Even in sleep, she instinctively trusted him to keep her safe, and he could think of no better compliment to receive.
His mate was a vision, and he would kill anyone who tried to take her away from him.
“Congratulations, my lord.” Nyko turned to face him, but didn’t approach. He looked hesitant, his brows drawn together, but after a short pause, he continued. “Our females don’t react that way.”
Vischer knew what the guard meant, but he growled low in warning anyway. When it came to his mate, he admitted to a certain level of irrationality.
“Congratulations,” the Krell warrior offered, his head bowed in respect. “I will inform King Krell that you have found your mate and will join him at the castle once her time of need has passed.”
Something about the way he said it made Vischer suspicious. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The warrior glanced at the female, his expression stony. “The human females seem to feel it more intensely than the Vor. On average, each of the claimed humans has endured the heat for five days.”
“By the gods,” one of Vischer’s warriors muttered.
Vischer glanced down at his sleeping mate as panic and something purely carnal warred inside him. Five days.
“I’ll meet with the king,” Nyko told him. “Attend to your mate, my lord. We will ensure no harm befalls you or our lady.”
Their lady. Vischer grinned as he tightened his arms around Janelle. There had been no Lady of Roak Palace since his mother had passed many years ago, and it was well beyond time that changed.
Janelle whimpered, and her legs began to saw restlessly as her skin flushed once again. With no time to waste, he flapped his wings, soaring high into the air.
“See it done,” he called to his warriors, then soared toward his ship with his future clutched in his arms.