Page 22 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

At first, it had been a struggle to resist the pressing urge to pursue Cordelia’s alluring scent again, but as they grew closer to their destination, her condition worsened.

The tang of her blood had overtaken the sweeter scent between her thighs.

The seal of the medipoxy over her wound was failing, and he could smell the beginnings of an infection beneath it.

Her body seemed so frail to him. She was shorter, less densely muscled, and more easily tired.

Yulaira was a fruitful planet, but he was learning it may not be so hospitable to humans.

He hated that thought. Curse the planet if it would not bow to her.

Damn it to the depths if it worked against him as he tried to convince her to remain.

She’d stopped glaring at him, giving in to rest her face against his shoulder. The bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheeks were turning an alarming shade of red. Her breathing had grown more labored, and her dark brows knitted together over her glassy eyes.

“You’re worsening,” he murmured, moving as quickly as he could without jostling her too badly. His thighs burned with effort, but they were lasting him far longer than they ever would have before.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.” The words left him on a growl of frustration.

“It’s just a sunburn, and the cryo hangover. I’ll be fine.”

“Your wound is infected.”

One of her hands pressed over the injury, and she winced.

“The medpod will fix it.” He wasn’t sure if he was soothing her or himself.

A faint droning sound made his ears twitch. He tipped his eyes skyward, squinting against the light of the midday sun.

“What is it?” Cordelia asked.

He’d opened his mouth to answer, but something whistled overhead. All it took was the shadow flickering over them, and he was sprinting for cover. He crashed through the brush without heed for the noise he was making or the way the branches whipped at them both.

Water. He needed to find water, and fast. The river couldn’t be far. They would have had to cross it to reach the lodge, and he was sure they’d been close last he’d checked.

He’d expected Cordelia to exclaim, to keep pressing for answers, but instead her arms tightened around his neck, and she twisted to watch over his shoulder. She sucked in a gasp.

“Rentir!”

He reached the steep bank of the river. They dropped, sliding through the mud a moment before a barrage of bullets sprayed through the air where they’d been standing.

His knees gave as they hit the bottom of the embankment, and Cordelia tumbled from his arms into the rushing water of the river.

His tail snagged at her ankle as he stumbled in after her.

She wasn’t panicking as he’d expected. Instead, her arms worked, and her legs kicked to keep her head above water. She had to be in pain, but she didn’t complain.

“Hold your breath,” he called, pulling her back to him.

She filled her lungs as he did with the biggest breath he could muster, cursing his creators that he hadn’t been given the gills his brother had.

Then he dove, dragging Cordelia into the depths of the water.

His pupils narrowed to slits and his vision sharpened enough to make out the jutting root of a phyla tree along the floor of the river.

He swam hard for it. His tail snagged the limb as he clutched Cordelia close against the tug of the current.

Her hair billowed in the water, a waving curtain of deepest brown, stark against her skin. She looked even more pallid in the darkened depths of the water. The result was strikingly alien. Her squinted eyes darted between him and the surface of the water.

He turned his attention to the small, spherical object zagging back and forth over the water.

Move on, damn you.

He couldn’t emerge until it was gone. The water was the only effective shield he had against the drone’s heat-seeking technology.

They weren’t the cleverest devices, but they were lethal.

The body of the thing, crafted from the strongest metals found on Auretia, would render any plasma bolts from his blaster less than useless.

Maybe if he had something to hit it with…

but it wouldn’t sit still and let him break it to pieces, and it wasn’t a big target.

They rarely deployed the devices to the surface. Mostly, the things darted around the ship and cleared away space debris to preserve the hull of the Gidalan. Just how desperate were they?

It had shot at Cordelia. Had they changed their minds about taking the women alive? Or was she on their hit list by association?

Damn it, he had nothing but questions.

Cordelia shivered in his arms, compounding his frustration.

This late in the season, the water was unpleasantly brisk.

She must have been less capable of temperature regulation than he was.

Already, her skin was growing clammy against his.

She spasmed, wincing. His heart skipped a beat.

One of her hands released its death grip on his jacket to clamp over her mouth and nose.

Air? She was running out of air already?

He looked up, growling uselessly at the orb still hovering above them.

If I lose her, I will kill every last auretian on that cursed ship.

She jerked again. He could feel her lungs trying to work as she fought against the urge to breathe. Fear turned his blood to ice.

Just a little longer, he wanted to beg.

She shook her head hard, her eyes wild, and her hand dropped away from her face as she took a helpless breath full of water.

No!

He clamped his hand over her mouth, but it was too late. She was choking, gagging against his palm as she clawed at his hand and fought his hold. He wanted to scream.

His next glance up revealed a clear sky above them. If he’d been on his own, he would have given it a few more minutes, would have waited to ensure the drone had actually moved on. There was no time.

He released his grip on the root and kicked off the bottom of the river, pumping his legs to bring them to the surface. When they breached, Cordelia threw up over his shoulder. He patted her back hard as she coughed.

She was a limp, trembling mass in his arms as he dragged them both onto the bank of the river. He pushed wet tendrils of hair out of her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping her face in his hands.

She nodded, turning her head to cough again.

He hauled her up into his arms, cradling the back of her head as he buried his nose in her neck and breathed deep.

Her scent was faint, but it was there beneath the mud and the wild water.

This close, he could hear the steady beating of her heart. It was more proof that she was alive.

“What was that?” she rasped.

“A drone.” He ignored her wriggling attempt to gain space, tightening his crushing grip on her.

“We should move. It could come back.”

“Yes.” He agreed, but he could not move. His vision blurred, so he closed his eyes and let her fill his senses.

She shifted again, bracing her hands against his shoulders and pushing fruitlessly. “Rentir.” The exasperation was plain in her voice.

“Please. Just… a moment more.”

With a sigh, she subsided.

“I thought you were going to die,” he whispered. “I’ve only just found you, and I thought…”

At that, her body softened against him. Her arms wound around his back, and one hand began to pet him. A purr revved within him at the gentle touch. He rubbed his face over the column of her neck, mingling their scents together. That made the world feel a little more right to him.

“I cannot bear it,” he said, unable to stop himself. “If you die, I…”

“I’m alive.” She murmured the words into his ear. Her breath tickled.

“I have done everything except keep you safe. I should have let Lidan take you.”

“You’re not responsible for me.”

He laughed bitterly. “Nor should I be. I am not worthy of the responsibility. I have proven as much time and again.”

“Rentir.”

Reluctantly, he drew back to look down at her face, expecting to find reproach on her delicate features. Guilt twisted in his gut at how sunken and dark her eyes had grown.

Her hand slid between them and smoothed over his cheek as she offered up a small smile instead of scorn. Her blue eyes danced back and forth over his face. They harbored a sadness he’d seen in his own gaze often enough. Why was it so much more painful to see it on her?

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek for a long moment. He didn’t understand the gesture, but… he liked it. He closed his eyes and focused on the point of contact until she drew away.

“We have to move,” she said again.

Reluctantly, he released her. She braced herself against his shoulder and rose uneasily to her feet. The mud sucked at her oversized boots as she stepped back. Her hand pressed to the wound at her abdomen as she cast her gaze around the forest.

“You’re in pain.”

She gave him another tight-lipped smile. “I’ll hold up. Let’s go.”