Page 4 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 3

CALLA

My entire existence was pain. The sheer magnitude of its iron grip on every muscle and bone rendered me incoherent.

Rough voices ebbed and flowed through my delirium, the words indistinct. I tasted salt water and blood and smelled rusted metal.

My leaden body slid helplessly around on a smooth surface, hitting hard corners and what might be several pairs of legs and heavy boots. Sizzles of agony through the fog told me I had many broken bones.

My stomach roiled and lurched as if I were subject to violent yawing and up-and-down movement. Could I be in a boat? I dimly recalled aiming for a crash-landing in water, but had no memory of the actual impact or anything after.

Normally choppy water wouldn’t have affected me much, if at all; a fighter pilot’s training and years of flying tended to eliminate all forms of motion sickness. But these waves were enormous—to the point the boat repeatedly surged atop waves and then plunged meters through the air before hitting the water’s surface. I might have vomited from the endless rise and fall if my body could have organized its inner workings well enough to regurgitate anything.

I slipped away into soft darkness again.

Some blurry time later, I woke to calmer seas, the unmistakable sensation of heavy rain, and voices around me speaking Ymarian. One loud male voice didn’t sound Ymarian, though. Whoever he was, he bellowed orders like he was in charge.

Agony made it difficult to think, but this time I stayed conscious instead of immediately passing out again. My foggy brain suggested these people had rescued me from my ship in what felt like a small boat. Maybe they were taking me to shore, to a hospital?

My eyelids felt welded shut and I couldn’t make any sound but a moan, but I managed to slide my hand across the deck toward the voice of the man who might be the leader. If they knew I was conscious, they might offer me water to drink, or something to dull my pain?—

A heavy boot came down on my hand, crushing it to the deck.

Even as half-numb, half-conscious, and maybe half-dead as I was, this new, piercing agony ripped a wail from me that didn’t sound human. I tried to pull my hand away, but the boot ground my fingers against the corrugated metal deck. I gagged in pain. Laughter erupted around me, barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

And then one of them screamed.

The scream turned into a gurgle, and then it cut off abruptly. A couple of wet, fleshy thuds on the boat’s deck made me flinch. Warm liquid splattered across my face.

Weapons fire, shouts, and more gurgley screams filled the air. The foot that had crushed my hand suddenly moved, freeing me. Boots pounded the deck and plasma bolts burned into the metal around me .

A sudden, startlingly clear thought cut through the fog: Damn it to all the hells, I didn’t survive a crash just to die thanks to a stray shot from a plasma gun.

Less than a minute after that first scream, the number of voices around me had dwindled rapidly, but the fighting continued. In the chaos, a heavy boot brushed past my head and someone stepped on my leg. I moaned.

Gentle hands pushed me away from the fighting and into a small, enclosed space. Maybe a nook under a long bench seat. The rain no longer pelted my face, but I lay in a pool of seawater. The wild weapons fire might have punched holes through the bottom of the boat.

If the boat sank, there was no way I could swim to shore with broken limbs. I’d sink like a stone.

My eyelids fluttered open.

A blurry, shadowy figure with several long tentacles ripped a Ymarian in half. Viscera splattered the interior of the boat, which was already covered in blood and body parts.

The creature flung the Ymarian’s remains over the side. In the dark and rain, little of his body was visible except human-like arms and legs and a pair of glowing silvery-blue eyes.

Someone grabbed my arm and hauled me out from under the seat. A fresh wave of agony made my vision go hazy.

I faded in and out, only marginally aware that I dangled in the grip of an enormous, snarling, red-skinned Atolani male clad in a leather vest and pants. He held me up with one arm wrapped under my arms, dragging me toward the boat’s stern as he fired at the creature who’d apparently killed everyone else on the boat.

The creature evaded each bolt of plasma fire, moving faster than I could track in my dazed, pain-addled state. What the hells was he?

With what sounded like a curse in his native language, the Atolani braced himself with his feet wide apart as the boat rocked. He shoved the glowing barrel of his plasma gun against my temple. Searing pain. I moaned.

At the other end of the boat, the creature went still.

A bolt of lightning revealed that we were surrounded by scattered body parts, but not enough to account for the number of voices I’d heard. Most of the remains must have been washed or tossed overboard. The head of a Ymarian lay at my feet, their three lifeless eyes fixed and dull and expression frozen in horror.

The flash of light also allowed me a glimpse of a male humanoid body with four long tentacles, glowing eyes, long white hair, and dark purple skin that almost blended in with the night except for its iridescent sheen. Blood in various colors covered every part of him I could see. He didn’t appear to be wearing any clothing, but his coiled tentacles hid everything below his waist. When the lightning faded, only his eyes remained visible, shining in the dark.

“Fuck off, or she dies,” the Atolani snarled at the creature in Alliance Standard.

That voice had barked orders earlier. Maybe he was the asshole who’d stepped on my hand.

The sea creature hissed and lowered his human arms, as if my life mattered to him. But why would it? He’d ripped everyone else in the boat to pieces.

Whose side was I on here? The Atolani who’d rescued me from my wrecked ship but found my pain amusing? Or the tentacled sea creature who’d just killed a half-dozen men or more, apparently for the hells of it?

Neither, I decided. I was on my side. Maybe they’d kill each other. Then I’d try to pilot this leaky boat to shore. At least I’d have a chance to rescue myself instead of being some Atolani’s toy or a sea creature’s dinner.

With no weapons and no ability to fight, I did the only thing I could: I bit the Atolani’s bare forearm with all my might. With a bellow, he ripped his arm out of my mouth. I spat out nasty dark blood and a gobbet of flesh.

I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye just before a body made of what felt like solid muscle crashed into us. The Atolani lost his grip on me and fired wildly as he stumbled. The bolt of plasma singed my hair and missed my head by centimeters.

The sea creature’s fist punched straight through the Atolani’s chest and ribcage with a thick, meaty crunch. More blood sprayed across my face. Oh, gods. My stomach heaved, and that agony made me start to fade out again.

The sea creature’s tentacles wrapped around me with surprising gentleness, drawing me away as his hand withdrew from the Atolani’s chest. The Atolani went down hard on the deck, convulsing and spitting blood in his death throes. I would have kicked him if I could.

I fought to stay conscious. Sleep meant I’d no longer hurt so much, but I wouldn’t surrender to this creature or be his plaything or prey. The gentleness of his tentacles around me meant nothing. I’d seen these same appendages rend bodies into pieces. His fist had punched straight through a man’s chest. The fact the Atolani might have deserved his fate didn’t make it any less monstrous.

The rest of the creature’s tentacles swept me up and cradled me against a surprisingly warm chest. Not wanting to be torn apart or eaten, I fought his grip as best I could.

The lack of light and my own hazy vision made it difficult to see well. Up close, the creature appeared almost human, but with purple shimmery skin. His eyes gleamed soft and silvery, like starlight.

A humanoid body and four very octopus-like tentacles. He might be Fortusian, but who the hells knew. Out here on the edge of Alliance space, anything was possible. The universe was vast and we knew only the tiniest fraction of the beings who lived within it.

I would have given anything to have a blade or gun, or even for one of his tentacles to be within biting distance. Either on purpose or not, he kept them out of reach of my teeth. I had nothing to threaten him with but my words.

“Let me go,” I said, or tried to say. The words came out slurred. I doubted he’d understood even if he spoke Alliance Standard. At least I’d managed to sound threatening. I tried again. “Let me go, or I’ll kill you.”

His eyes darkened. A strange kind of ripple passed through his tentacles. I tensed, expecting to be crushed or torn apart. Instead, he made a low, sweet sound.

Inexplicably, my body relaxed, as if my insides had turned to warm honey. My fury, pain, mistrust, and fear all but evaporated. When my head started to fall back, his tentacle supported my neck and nudged my head so it rested against his chest. The intimacy of the way he cradled me and my helplessness made me angry, but even that emotion felt muted, as if he’d emitted some kind of relaxing pheromones. Like a predator trying to subdue its prey.

So help me, I had not survived all the horrors of my life to be eaten by a sea monster, no matter how beautiful he was.

Beautiful? Where the hells did that word come from? He wasn’t beautiful. He was death incarnate.

Through the hard muscles of his chest, I heard three distinct heartbeats: one in the center and then two right after.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub-dub.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub-dub.

The rhythm soothed me almost as much as that strange coo, and that made me angry too. He’d slaughtered a half-dozen men in less than three minutes and his heart rate wasn’t even elevated .

“Let me go,” I repeated. This time my voice was pained but clear.

“Raiders,” he said in Alliance Standard, his voice rough.

I followed his gaze to the leather-clad Atolani, who’d finally gurgled one last time and gone still. Raiders, here on one of Jakora’s moons? No way they’d set up a base anywhere near a popular tourist destination. These men were likely just settlers, and my new captor had killed them all in what seemed like cold blood.

But before I could accuse him of lying, his glowing gaze met mine. “Deep breath,” he commanded me.

His imperious tone immediately set my teeth on edge. The only person I took orders from besides myself was Squad Captain Proos, and that was only because I had to. This monster, whoever the hells he was, didn’t get to order me around.

“No fucking way,” I ground out. If only my voice wasn’t so full of pain. “Let me go. You’re not taking me anywhere.”

He’d slaughtered a half-dozen people without batting an eyelash, but he flinched at my words or tone, or both.

Lightning fast, his human hand covered my mouth and pinched my nose. His tentacles encircled me completely, pressing me tightly to his body so I couldn’t move.

And then he dove out of the boat and plunged us headfirst into the roiling sea.