Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

B y the time Myk-El returned to his aerie, the female was completely unresponsive. The big blue eyes didn't open, and the soft lips were as pale as her skin.

He carried her into the warmth of the hot spring grotto, then carefully opened her blanket. Her arms were still loosely wrapped around the avian, but there was no resistance when he opened them. The small creature glared up at him through a beady black eye but didn't fight when he lifted it free.

The injured wing dragged along the ground, but the repair was still intact. He suspected the limpness was due more to overused muscles than a new injury. He considered returning it to its cage, but it had already proven adept at escaping and the female needed immediate assistance.

"You were foolish to leave," he told it as he turned back to the female. "But I will not restrain you."

Somewhat to his surprise, the avian didn't immediately head for the outer cave. Instead, it remained close, watching as he lifted the female into his arms. He started to unwrap the rest of the blanket and discovered that she had a bag matching his own slung over her shoulder.

So she is a stranger here as well , he thought, although whoever had brought them both here had apparently not taken her needs into consideration. He shuddered as he thought about what might have happened if he had not found her. He still wanted to know why they were here, but right now, taking care of her took precedence.

He slid the rest of the blanket free, leaving her naked in his arms. Her skin was as cool and pale as Ceredian silk. And just as flawless , he thought as his gaze traveled down over her softly curved figure.

Her full white breasts were topped with pale pink nipples. Although Letenjan females did not nurse their young, he was familiar with the concept, and he had a sudden desire to taste those two little buds. For the first time in years, his body responded to the presence of a female, his zemka stirring inside his body.

The sensation shocked him so deeply that he almost put her aside until he could regain his usual control. But she didn't have time to wait while he went through a calming ritual.

In order to avoid shocking her system, he needed to warm the center of her body first. He arranged her limp body against his chest, her head tucked under his chin, those oddly tempting breasts plastered against his pectoral muscles, and the soft little patch of fur between her legs resting against his lower stomach. He wrapped first his arms and then his wings around her body.

She felt… right in that position.

No . He would never allow another female to weaken him. Even one as soft and defenseless and deliciously fragrant as this one.

His zemka did not agree, still throbbing restlessly inside his body, but he ignored it as he continued to hold her, checking periodically to make sure that her temperature was increasing. The avian settled on a low rock next to them, his head tilted as he watched. The water murmured gently, and a strange kind of peace settled over him as he sat holding his— the —female in the quiet cave.

As her body temperature increased, she began to stir occasionally, her gentle movements torturing his zemka. In a vain attempt to divert his attention, he started planning for her needs. Food first. Perhaps he could make some broth from his last kill. She would need a bed eventually, but she would sleep with him until he was assured of her health. And she would need clothing, at least during this cold season, but once the weather warmed there would be no need to cover that delightful little body…

His thoughts ground to a halt. Warmer weather? She would not be here when the weather turned. And why did that thought leave him feeling oddly desolate?

Appalled at the direction of his thoughts, he began running through formulas in his mind, attempting to lose himself in the cool practicality of science.

Science that lost all meaning when she wiggled suddenly, her hot little cunt settling directly over the opening through which his zemka would emerge. He looked down and found her looking up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

"Are we in heaven now?"

He didn't recognize the language, but he had developed a neural processor for soldiers deafened in combat and tested it on himself. It would translate her words, although it would take him longer to learn to communicate in return.

She wiggled again, her eyes widening as she brushed against the engorged rim of his opening, and he bit back a groan as her body slickened.

"You must stop moving." He lifted his fingers to her throat and felt the wild beat of her pulse beneath warm, silky skin. "That's better."

Ignoring her soft protest, he lifted her free. She shivered as soon as the air touched her skin. He sighed and brought her back onto his lap, placing her sideways across his legs.

She immediately snuggled into him. "That's better."

The hand she placed on his chest was still cold, and he covered it with his own, wrapping his other hand around her tiny, icy toes. She needed further warming. Before he could carry her to the hot spring, the avian squawked.

The female scrambled away from him, her round little ass brushing tantalizingly across his opening in the process.

"There you are, Draco. How's your wing?"

She carefully examined the injury, cooing over it and stroking the avian's head. An unexpected spurt of jealousy washed over him. He wanted those small, soft fingers stroking his body, not that of another creature.

"You need to get thoroughly warm," he said gruffly, lifting her away from the creature and stepping into the pool with her.

"Hot! Hot!" she squealed, fighting him for the first time as her feet touched the water.

He winced and immediately raised her out of the water. Fuck . He should have realized that the water would feel much hotter on her chilled extremities. He had let his ridiculous jealousy—of an animal —override his common sense.

"I apologize," he said, hoping she understood.

His voice sounded stiff in his own ears, but she immediately gave him a soft smile and patted his chest.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me. But maybe a bit slower this time?"

Inch by inch, he lowered her back into the water. He could tell that the heat was uncomfortable for her, but blunt little teeth closed down over a plump lower lip and she nodded for him to continue. Brave little female .

When she was finally immersed in the water, he started to let her go, but she murmured a protest and clung to him. He had tasks to perform and it served no purpose to sit here and hold her, but he couldn't make himself pull those small hands away.

She started squirming again, and he could feel her hard little nipples rubbing against his chest. The unfamiliar sensation shouldn't have been erotic, but he could feel his zemka beginning to stir again.

"You must remain still," he said as firmly as possible, tightening his grip. Even if she couldn't understand his words, he hoped his actions conveyed the message.

Instead, she moaned. He put his hand on her face, careful of her fragile skin, and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. Her eyes were huge and bright, and a hectic flush colored her cheeks. Were these signs of arousal for her species?

The idea was almost unbearably tempting, but he had spent years learning to ignore the false promptings of his body. He shifted his hands, preparing to set her to one side, but as he started to lift her free, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

This was not an act in which his people participated, although he had seen it performed before. Her hot little mouth brushed against his, a curiously pleasant sensation. He opened his mouth to tell her that it was not a suitable custom, and her tongue slipped between his lips. The taste of her flooded his senses as she shyly stroked her tongue against his. Hot, wet, delicious.

His careful logic flew out the window. He didn't care if this was intended as a gesture of thanks—he wanted more.

He gripped her head, holding her in place as he began to explore. A distant part of him knew that he was holding her too tightly, that he was not giving her a chance to object, but it was overwhelmed by this urgency, this need.

She made a soft sound, but it wasn't a protest. Her hands gripped his head just as tightly as she tried to press closer to him.

His other hand slid down that bare, wingless back, impossibly fragile, but as he pulled her tighter, he noticed the heat of her skin, hotter even then the hot springs. Was that normal for her race?

He forced himself to lift his head. As he did, her eyes fluttered open, but they were dazed and unseeing.

"Angel," she murmured again, and then went limp in his arms.

Fuck .

What he had assumed was passion was obviously fever. He should have known that a fragile creature like her would have no interest in a scarred warrior.

A squawk, sounding distinctly reproachful, came from the small avian and he shot it a look as he rose to his feet carrying her limp body.

"I didn't realize she was ill."

Now he was apologizing to a lifeform incapable of verbal communication. The sooner this distracting female was on her way, the better.

But then she shifted in his arms, nestling closer even though her eyes were still closed.

He needed to restore her health first, he decided, ignoring the faint pang of guilt. As he carried her through into the front cave and placed her carefully on his bed, he found himself unexpectedly grateful that he had a chance to find out more about the intriguing little female.