Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

M ate.

Tomlin forced himself to ride away from Etta's lab, even though his Krythian side fought it with every hoof beat. The moment she'd touched his hand in the lab, he'd known she was his mate. His first overwhelming happiness had been followed by horror as his cock immediately hardened to the point of pain. The need to claim her, to strip her bare and bend her over the worktop, fucking her until she knew she belonged to him, had been almost impossible to resist.

Even now his cock throbbed urgently, and his hands clenched on the reins as he fought the urge to return. His mind might be appalled at the thought of taking her so forcefully, but his body was far more subject to his Krythian heritage.

Claim her. Make her mine.

No! He concentrated on his breathing, his heartbeat, his mantra, the rigorous discipline he used to suppress his more primal instincts. Although he was able to exert enough control to continue on the journey back to Wainwright, the need for his mate continued to pull at him.

When he reached town he hesitated briefly, then decided he had to return to the farm, to let S'kal and the others know that they were safe, that Marshall would not send any more men to harm them. Under other circumstances he would have been… happy to return, to take up the role he'd made for himself, but he already knew he couldn't stay. Even without the mating urge tormenting him, his Krythian side was too close to the surface.

Unless he could reassert his control, he wouldn't be able to disguise his heritage for very long. Perhaps it shouldn't matter - none of the other males at the farm were human - but the thought of losing his camouflage made him shudder. Very few people even knew about his race - Grethel had told him that they were almost extinct - and the little that was known was not positive. They were vicious, primitive warriors subject to almost uncontrollable lusts for blood - and for their mates.

He had experienced the first, but he'd had no experience with the latter until now. That single touch had created an almost irresistible flood of desire. How much worse would it be if they were to go any further? The thought of seeing fear in those beautiful brown eyes made him shudder again, but he couldn't stop thinking about her as he stabled his horse and returned to his flyer.

The farm was an easy ride from town, but he was… reluctant to let the others know that he was so near. He suspected that S'kal at least would be likely to come after him, to urge him to return, and as much as that thought pleased him, he couldn't face it. Better to leave them in doubt as to his location.

The farm actually consisted of a number of individual farms. The former owner - the one who had revealed the presence of the morchev to Marshall - had acquired most of them in less than honorable ways before finally being driven out by one of the few remaining landowners and her Riasi mate. They in turn had arranged for Commander Temel to take over the majority of the land. Temel intended to use the formerly abandoned farms to create homes for members of his squad still troubled by long years of war on another planet.

Temel has been remarkably successful , he thought as he flew close enough to see the farm, peaceful and prosperous in the warm afternoon light. Not all of His warriors had become farmers, but they had all found peace here. Although perhaps that had as much to do with their human mates as their location.

If only Etta could bring him that same peace… But a Krythian's mating instincts turned him into a feral animal, not a contented husband. It was an impossible dream.

As he came in for a landing in front of the big white farmhouse, he automatically noted that one of the fields had been harvested while he was gone and another herd had been brought in from a more distant pasture. Before he left, he and Temel had been making plans for the winter and the following spring, considering ways to make the farm more prosperous and expand the products they sold.

The loss of that role, of the place he'd found for himself, was an almost physical ache and by the time he climbed out of the flyer, exhaustion swept over him. Temel and S'kal were waiting for him, along with several of the other warriors and their mates. He flinched internally when he saw that one of them was Constance, Marshall's daughter. The man had not cared for her, using her only as a pawn in his schemes, but he still regretted the necessity of what he had done.

"I see I have a welcoming committee," he said, attempting to sound like his usual self, but he suspected he was not entirely successful.

S'kal came to meet him, asking quietly if he'd prefer to meet with Temel by himself, but he shook his head. He needed to deliver his news and leave as quickly as possible. Perhaps his exhaustion was showing because Kara, S'kal's sister-in-law, immediately insisted that they all have a seat.

He obeyed, then began by delivering the news of Marshall's death. He had to force himself not to react when Constance's sorrow battered against his weakened defenses. Fuck . He was still far too sensitive to the emotions of others.

"I am sorry, Lady Constance," he said, taking refuge in his usual formality.

The fact that she understood the necessity - that she had been as much a victim of her father as the others - didn't make it any easier. Her mate took her away almost immediately, easing the pressure of her sorrow, but now that his barriers had been breached once, he could feel the emotions of the others pressing against them.

Doing his best to hide his discomfort, he revealed the rest of what he had uncovered, reassuring them that there was no further danger.

"He kept the project very secret. Only a few people knew and they were working on separate aspects. And even if they had the knowledge, few people have the same level of resources."

He chose not to reveal Etta's research. There had been no plebanium in her lab and her interest was academic rather than military. However, he still needed to discover the extent of her knowledge.

"There are a few… loose ends to tie up," he admitted. "I'm going to do that now."

S'kal frowned at him.

"You're leaving again? Don't you want to rest first?"

It was a tempting prospect, but there was no rest for him here. The need to return to Etta was already growing more demanding.

"I can't. I have to leave immediately."

"But you'll be back, won't you?"

As much as he wanted to say yes, it would be impossible unless he could regain his control.

"I… I don't know."

"You will be missed, but you will always have a place here," Commander Temel said quietly, dropping a hand on his shoulder before entering the house.

Even that brief touch exposed him to the other male's emotions. They weren't negative, but they were still strong enough to make him shudder.

"What the fuck is going on?" S'kal demanded. "You can't just walk out on me—on us. You're going to be the godfather to our child."

The knowledge that S'kal and his mate had chosen him, had accepted and trusted him to that extent, still made him smile. He desperately wanted to be able to take that role in the child's life.

"I do not want to miss that honor. I will return if I can."

"If? You sound like you're going to die." S'kal gave him a horrified look. "That isn't it, is it? You aren't dying?"

Wasn't he? He was terribly afraid that if he couldn't regain control over his Krythian side, his human side would die, disappearing beneath a storm of primitive emotion.

S'kal immediately noticed his hesitation.

"If that's what's happening, you should be here with your friends and your family."

Friends. Family. He had longed for both for such a long time, but this was not something that anyone else could assist him with. Except Etta , a traitorous part of his mind whispered.

After promising to return if he could, he rose to leave.

"Goodbye, my… friends."

The word sounded odd on his tongue, but he knew it was the right word. S'kal extended his hand but he flinched away from it. As much as he would have liked to have exchanged that gesture, his senses were too raw for another sweep of emotion, especially since he could already feel S'kal's concern pressing against him.

"I am truly sorry, Lord S'kal, but I cannot."

He did his best to maintain his composure but by the time he entered the flyer his hands were shaking. Ignoring them, he rose smoothly into the air, resisting the impulse to take another look at the farm before heading back to Wainwright. It was late enough in the day that he would be unable to reach the lab on horseback before dark - and he was returning.

He told himself it was because he still needed to discover the extent of her knowledge, that it was because he'd assured her that he would, but he knew that the urge to seek out his mate was what was truly driving him.

Not that I will ever allow myself to claim her. It was far too dangerous. She was only a human - a fragile, beautiful human - and he couldn't take the chance of harming her.

In spite of that, he could no more resist returning than a small insect could resist the honeyed lure of the deathtrap plant. If only he weren't so afraid that he were the predator rather than the prey…

No. He refused to allow himself to become the kind of male his father had been. He would purchase some supplies for Etta and spend the night meditating and strengthening his control. Then he would return, complete his investigation, and somehow find the strength to leave again. Permanently.