Page 237 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

237

What If?

M aya

The camera is off and I have no intention of leaving A’Dar’s comfortable lap while he gives commands as if he were born to it. He is responsible for every life on board and I don’t envy him. I’m sure it’s a heavy weight. I can help.

He reassigns jobs, promoting those whose supervisors died in the malfunctioning pods, then tells one of his officers to set up a rotating schedule to give those in machta relief from their duties. He orders clean-up, starting with dead bodies, and urges those with experience in the hydroponics lab to get production up to full capacity. We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed.

While he’s organizing the warriors, I reluctantly pull myself out of his resisting arms and make my way to the forward cargo bay. There are hundreds of women who haven’t been connected to a Xenon, and four men looking very perplexed.

Many are talking quietly with each other or consoling those on the ground who are either sobbing uncontrollably or disturbingly quiet.

They all turn to me with mixed emotions on their faces.

“I know all too well this is a ton to process,” I say, my voice quietly sympathetic as I approach. “I am so sorry this happened to all of you. I can’t change it, but if it’s any consolation, the one who did this to you, the red-skinned, black-haired bitch you saw on the screen with her ‘welcome’ speech, is dead.” I let that sink in for a moment. Then continue as the women and men now approach and form a group in front of me.

“I need help. There is so much to do. Let’s keep the lemon-to-lemonade philosophy in mind. Okay?” Slowly, many wiping the tears from their faces, they all nod their agreement.

“Great. I want each of you to say your name and your occupation and talents into my computer pad.” I hold it out and a forty-something, slender woman with beautifully cut and colored auburn hair in a well-tailored suit approaches.

“I’m Taylor,” she says and takes the pad out of my hands. “I’m the head of HR of a huge corporation. I loved my job but hated the work culture. I lived alone, no close friends or family. Though I’m not happy about this.” She gestures vaguely. “This sounds like an opportunity to make a real difference to people who’ll need something to hold on to.”

She breathes deeply, then continues, her voice full of purpose. “I’ll get a team together to register everyone, then create a table of resources. What are you going to do with the ones currently on the floor? I fear some might be suicidal.” Her gaze flicks to a woman who is sitting in a tight ball, her arms around her knees as she keens in distress.

I toggle the wrist comm A’dar gave me and immediately he answers with his husky, unashamed, “Yes, my heart?”

“A’dar, could you send me some muscle and stretchers? Is the medbay functional? We have some women who will need some intense psychological care.”

I can hear him check with the AI. “Fully functional, Captain.”

“Unmated males and stretchers are on their way, my heart.”

I end the call with a smile.

A woman and one of the men approach. “Hi, Maya, I’m Sara. I’m a clinical psychologist with 20 years of practice specializing in trauma and PTSD.” She gives a shaky laugh, then takes a deep breath. “It’s like they made an order for one psychotherapist from central casting. Convenient, huh? I’ll go with them to medbay.”

“I’d like a tour of medbay too,” says the man in light blue scrubs with a Selkirk Hospital logo on the sleeve. “I’m Marc. I have no idea why I was abducted but… lemonade.” He shrugs. “I’d like to check out the medbay. We’ve got a lot of humans on board and I’m not sure…” he glances over his shoulder at a contingent of seven-foot-tall Xenons, “how our physiology differs from theirs.”

Almost as an afterthought, he pierces me with his stare and adds, “And the whole hybrid thing? Yeah, we should probably do some tests on you.”

Many others offer assistance, but I’ll leave that to Taylor, who looks more than fit for the task. As the males with hover stretchers slowly approach, I watch to make sure even the weakest among us is being treated with the utmost respect, then take my leave.

Mission accomplished. Better than I anticipated. I make a hasty exit and almost run back to the bridge. I need my mate.

I practically dive from the doorway, and A’Dar grabs me onto his lap, displaying a desperation equal to mine. We exchange a passion-filled kiss, but the fires are burning hotter under my skin. The urgency is building fast and hard, telling me if we don’t make a run for it to his cabin, I’m going to attack him and mount him right here on the floor of the bridge surrounded by his crew.

“Char’Mac,” he says, “my new mate and I will be in my quarters. I do not want to be disturbed except for emergencies and two high-protein meals a day to be left outside my cabin door. We have machta to attend to.”

He tried to sound all-business, but he couldn’t hide the hint of pride in his voice. Machta . As terrifying as it is to me, he’s been dreaming of it all his life.

Dipping his forehead to touch mine, his lids drift closed as he breathes my air. It seems to fortify him because he rises with me still in his arms and hurries to our cabin.

I don’t pay attention to the floor plan or what direction we’re traveling. I’ll figure that out later. All I can focus on is how amazing he smells, the sound of his blood flowing through his veins, and the craving in every cell of my body demanding I have his fluids in me. Sperm, blood, it doesn’t matter. The need is so desperate I can’t control myself from sliding my fangs along the skin above his jugular.

A'Dar

The feel of her warm exhalations grazing across my vein will be the death of me. I’m not certain I can make it to my cabin. I just might have to ease her to this hallway floor and sink into her right here. By the way she’s teasing her fangs against my skin, I doubt she would protest.

Instead of that, I break into a run, trying to ignore the envious looks of my crewmen who know exactly what I’m in such a hurry to do.

Once inside our room, I almost rip our clothes off to get my fill of her, but I stop myself. Machta is so powerful, it takes all my willpower to cross to the refresher. There has been so much death over the last few days, we’ve practically bathed in the blood of our enemies. I don’t want to come to her like this.

She’s whimpering, possibly too lust-crazed to form words or sentences, but unhappy to be bypassing the bed, nonetheless. I use my claws to slice her out of her clothes, then turn on the water and pull off my armor, tossing it into the corner without concern even though it’s saved my life more times than I can count.

As soon as the water circling the drain is no longer tinged with pink, I turn my attention to my mate, my love, my heart.

“What do you wish, my love? My essence? My blood? I want to provide everything you need before I slake my own thirsts. I have many.” My voice dipped deep and rough as my glance flicked over her beautiful, naked body. I’ll eat her with my gaze, then later with my tongue.

She doesn’t answer with her words. Perhaps she’s slipped too far into machta , or maybe she knows words are superfluous. By dropping to her knees between my feet, she tells me all I need to know.

My cock is as hard as the black basalt door we closed against our enemies an hour ago. Maya skips all preliminaries as she steals a swipe of my essence on her graceful dip to the floor.

How convenient that her back is against the cool wall of the shower, because my knees weaken at her first hearty suck. My palms slap loudly against the wet metal while my head tilts, my forehead leaning against it as well. It is taking all my effort to stay on two feet and withstand the onslaught of my mate’s mouth.

Mate. The most beautiful word in the Xenon language. Well, maybe machta is better. It’s desperate and compelling and overwhelming. It almost got us killed a few times when I considered giving in to my impulses in ways that would have made us vulnerable to our enemies.

But the benefits are so sweet. Look at this beautiful female sucking my cock as if her life depends on it. Her hand reaches between my legs to cup my balls. They tighten, bringing me ever closer to spilling down her willing throat.

She looks up at me, her gorgeous, golden, almost-Xenon eyes looking at me with some emotion I cannot name. Affection? Dare I say love?

Another thought slams into me with the force of an ion laser pulse. What if my little human isn’t full of love or even affection? What if she’s hating me right this moment? What if she’s been too busy staying alive to spit in my face and tell me my Xenon face and machta are only one degree better than death?