Chapter 23

Aramon

I could not sit still enough to land the shuttle myself, pacing and bouncing around the interior as if I had itching powder in my suit. Asmoded had taken over at the helm without a word, and I only needed the bond with Solear to feed him the right direction for Evie. I was doing it, just like he said—locating my mate through a psychic bond. It was the stuff of fables, but I didn’t have time to marvel at it or wonder what it meant.

Evie was hurt, and she had gotten even more hurt in the last minute. I was going to gut the bastard who did this to her, skin him from head to toe, boil him alive. I was going to pay him back for every blow he’d struck against my mate, tenfold. Baring my teeth, I howled with fury at the closed hatch of the ship, wishing I could propel us to her faster. I knew that Asmoded was talking to people, arranging things—clever, smart things.

Even enraged with worry and fear as I clung to what had to be the back of Evie’s mind, I could recognize the deep rumble of the Tarkan delegate’s voice. They were telling the delegates that Evadne had been kidnapped—other things, too. Something about a Xurtal traitor and a second lost princess. There was only one princess who mattered: mine.

Then the camp came into view, and I rushed over, bracing myself on the backs of the seats to get the best view. A Xurtal camp, struck up in the middle of nowhere in the desert. Colorful green and red bands decorated each triple-pointed tent dome. Some tents were large, others much smaller, and a contingent of Xurtal warriors guarded the camp. Briefly, my heart sped up when I caught sight of a green-skinned Xurtal female. But it wasn’t my Evie; it was a much smaller, frightened girl.

Our shuttle landed, and the hatch had barely opened when I stormed out, my helmet covering my face and armor protecting me from any potential laser fire. The captain might have shouted something about not killing, but that was an impossible command. If anyone stood between me and Evie, they were going to die. My mind was locked on only one thing: the flame that was my mate, sputtering and flickering with pain. He could not sense it, but I could. Any delay, and I might be too late.

I tore into the first group of warriors with nothing but my claws, leaping onto them and pummeling them with unbridled fury, my rage finally unleashed on a target. As they fell, Evie’s flame seemed to grow brighter until, suddenly, she was there—her thoughts and feelings laid bare to me. Hello, my love, I shouted to her, triumphant. Through her blurry eyes, I could see my true enemy. And when she told the bastard he was about to die, I felt so damn proud of her.

The tent. I knew where she was, so I shredded the fabric wall with a knife and leaped through as the last syllable left her lips. I saw her: prone on the floor, blood on her lips, barely dressed, bruised, and burned. Still, she was radiant to me: beautiful, proud, all that bright defiance aimed at the asshole who dared to strike my woman. He was poised to do it, and he would regret it for the rest of his very short life.

With a roar, I was on him, and then my mind became nothing but a black hole of rage. In the instant I’d seen Evie, I’d seen the damage that bastard had done, and I responded in kind: a strike to the belly, a blow that shattered his hip, one to break his fucking nose. Lost to the battle rage, I did not surface until Evie’s mind brushed against mine again. A gentle touch, like the petal of a flower striking water: love, bright and warm, and then a tiny hint of worry.

I wrenched myself back from the precipice with gargantuan effort, but I did it. Who wouldn’t come back for a touch that sweet, a touch I certainly did not deserve but craved anyway? Turning from the crumpled mess that remained of my opponent, I rose to my feet and spun, searching for Evie.

She was on the ground, lying limply with her eyes closed. Her chest still rose and fell in a slow rhythm, but she was not moving, and she looked awful. Her fair skin had been burned by the sun in many places, her silky blouse torn and stained by something green. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth at an alarming rate, and I could feel her pulse slowing, fading. She was dying.

To the sound of combat still raging outside the tent, I sank to my knees at her side and flipped on my newly acquired com. “Dravion, what do I do? How do I help her?” With my other hand, I had already pulled the handheld scanner from my medical supplies, which sat in a small pouch on my hip. I saw no visible wounds, so she had to be bleeding internally.

“Give her one of the hypo shots; it should tide her over until I can get there,” the ship’s doctor responded immediately, without delay, as if he’d been waiting for that call. I reached for the hypo injector he mentioned and jabbed it into Evie’s bruised thigh without hesitation. Whatever Dravion said would help, I’d do. At the same time, I clung to the soft light that remained of her mind—her soul, or whatever you wanted to call the part of her that made her who she was. Stay with me, Evie.

Then Solear landed on his knees next to me, holding a tissue regenerator, his mind a bright flame beside Evie’s tiny, slowly fading flicker. “Keep her here,” he demanded of me. So I did. I held her as tightly as I could, with my hands and with my mind. Don’t go. Stay. I love you, mate. My Evie, my Evelyn Mordew the brave. Warrior princess. Soulmate. Stay… Stay!

Dravion came out of nowhere, slithering into the tent on his many tentacles and hauling boxes of supplies effortlessly with him. Dravion never left the Varakartoom; he feared the reactions of others at seeing him too much and preferred the peace and quiet of the ship. But he’d come, and he must have been close already to arrive so quickly. If Dravion was here, Evie would be okay. There was no better healer.

With a sigh, I sagged forward, rested my forehead against hers, and let myself slip into her mind completely. There, I could tell myself that everything was going to be fine.

***

Evie

Everything was different when I woke up. I was comfortable, lying on a soft mattress, and warm, but not too warm. Nothing hurt, and breathing was easy, so my ribs were no longer cracked. I noticed all those changes in a heartbeat, but it was the difference in my head that was slower to rise to awareness. My head was different—very different. It was like someone had turned on a portable heater in the back of my brain, except it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt good, cozy.

Blinking my eyes, I fought against their heaviness. I couldn’t make sense of why my head felt the way it did, so the least I could do was try to make sense of where I was. It didn’t feel like I was alone, but when I blinked open my eyes, I discovered I was all by myself in a room: pale walls, a single painting across from me, a cluttered desk to my right, and several more medical cots to the left. A med bay aboard a ship. I even recognized which med bay, because I’d been there before.

Sitting up made my hip ache, and that small twinge of pain set off a little niggle at the back of my head. Not even two seconds later, a door swished open, and there he was: my mate. Aramon wore a frantic expression on his dramatically marked face, the bone-white of his skull-like features gleaming beneath the bright overhead lights. “Evie! Don’t move, my love. You’ll hurt yourself!” He came to a halt at the side of the bed and, with a big hand, carefully started to lever me back down. “Sleep, rest, you’ll feel better soon.” I’d never seen him so worried, but my hip twinged again as I let him push me back against the mattress. When my hip ached, he was the one who winced, his expression turning grim. “I’m so sorry! I’ll get Dravion.”

He turned and started to race back out of the med bay, but I managed to catch his fingers just before he slipped from my grasp. “Stay, please. What happened?” I recalled Pelarios—flashes and snippets of the beating he’d given me. I recalled defying him and telling him he was about to die, but everything after that was a big blank. Aramon must have come; he found me. I felt a niggle of something, the faintest stirring of recollection, and then, suddenly, the memory fully bloomed: Aramon whispering in my mind, the knowledge that he was there. That salvation was within reach.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll always come for you, princess. I’m your male, your bodyguard. And you? You’re my heart and soul.” I did not question how he knew what I had been thinking—I could sense it now, and I was starting to understand. That little heater, that sun—that was Aramon glowing at the back of my brain. He was just a thought away. Oh boy, what had I gotten myself into? This was Aramon, my Aramon. He was going to peek at what I was thinking all the time now. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.

That should be off-putting, but when all that warmth, all those thoughts, were so filled with love and loyalty, how could I resist? He wasn’t shy about sharing his own thoughts—which was not a surprise—offering them to me like little treasures. It wasn’t until I took the first proffered thought that I sensed his fear of rejection. Oh, my poor mate, he thought he was not worthy. How could he think that?

“Aramon,” I said out loud, because some things deserve to be said out loud and see the light of day. “I love you. You were the first person—the only person—who ever cared about me. Really cared. You’re my male, my protector, and you make me feel safe. Don’t you know how much that means? I’ve never felt safe—never. But I do now. With you.”

Aramon was rarely lost for words, but he was now—his red eyes gleaming suspiciously. He seemed as caught up in powerful feelings as I was, and it felt natural for him to dip down and carefully hug me. It felt right to fling my arms around his neck and hold on tight.

That’s how Solear and the doctor found us a while later. Any apprehension I’d previously felt at seeing a creature that was at least part Grolarnx slipped away. Aramon trusted this male without question—I sensed it immediately—so I could only do the same. “Her hip,” Aramon told the doctor. “It hurts her.” That made the tall, gray-skinned creature smile placidly, his pink-and-blue tentacles writhing and swaying gently beneath him in a hypnotic pattern.

“I see, and what does my patient think?” he said in a gentle, soothing tone. “Shall I have a look?” One tentacle held up a handheld medical scanner, and when I nodded, it moved closer to hover over my hip. Aramon swayed to the side, but he did not let go of my shoulders, so I did not let go of his neck, even though it was getting a little awkward to hold him.

As the doctor worked, I shifted my eyes to Solear and took a good, long look. I realized I had not properly met Aramon’s brother, but it felt like I knew him anyway. At first glance, he looked mean—feral, even. But through Aramon, I could sense what lay just beneath the surface, and it wasn’t what you’d expect: shyness, fear of being alone, and this worry that I wouldn’t accept him or let him into the unit that Aramon and I now formed.

“Hi,” I said to him, smiling gently. “I’m Evie. It’s really nice to finally meet you, Solear. Is it okay if I love your brother—like, a lot?” I held my breath as I waited for his answer and feared that all he was going to do was stare at me with his dark red eyes from beneath his lowered brows, his sharply filed teeth bared at me in what appeared to be a snarl.

Then it came—first, a gentle prodding through the warmth that was all Aramon at the back of my mind. A little growl and a huff from my mate as he twisted to glare at his twin, and I realized Solear had tried to trace his brother’s bond into my mind. He didn’t know how to communicate except through the psychic plane. “It’s okay,” I said, even if it was a little scary. The truth was, if I wanted this to work with Aramon and me, I needed to be friends with Solear. They were a package deal: Asrai twins. Their lives would always be entwined.

Aramon huffed again, finally shrugging out of my arms to rise and glare at his brother, arms crossed over his armor-clad chest. “Be respectful. No peeking where you’re not welcome! Got it?” he said to Solear, and only after another long, silent moment did Solear nod. Then a nudge came again, soft as a whisper, and when I focused my attention on it, it bloomed into a single thought: Hi. Nothing more, just that. I did not think Solear could see a thing inside my head, but he could use Aramon as a conduit to send his thoughts. Hi. It was a start.

Smiling, I waved at him.