Page 6 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 5

CALLA

I drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like a very, very long time. Everything around me was blurry, in slow motion and fragments.

Whenever my eyes opened, the beautiful sea monster was at my side, eyes glowing softly and voice kind. Despite the horrors I’d witnessed on the boat, I didn’t fear him. I was only grateful that though I suffered terribly, I wasn’t alone.

Sometimes fever left me floating in a delirium. Icy cloths cooled my forehead and wrists.

At other times, heated blankets covered me from chin to toes as I shivered from cold that seemed so deep and profound that it had turned my bones to ice.

Often, he held my hand and told me stories—first of his homeworld and his childhood in the sea, and then adventures on planets and outposts and aboard deep-space vessels traveling in parts of the galaxy I’d never seen, or even dreamed of seeing.

Sometimes I couldn’t understand a word he said, but the murmur of his voice and a strange but beautiful coo soothed me, even when waves of agony crested so intensely that I screamed. I might have threatened that if he ever told anyone I’d cried, I would feed him appendages-first to a Hardanian bogworm, but I might have imagined that part. I lost track of what was a dream and what wasn’t.

Drops of some sweet liquid passed my lips a few times, always accompanied by a coo that eased my pain and fear and then soft darkness.

At some point the agony faded into milder pain and discomfort. Someone carried me in their arms and then lowered me into wonderfully hot water, where soft caresses cleaned my aching body. I shivered as they hummed quietly. Eventually, I fell asleep in the water with my head resting on someone’s warm chest.

The next time I became aware of my surroundings, I was no longer in the water or lying on a hard surface. Instead, I was wrapped in something warm and soft and curled up on my side on what felt like a bed. It had been so long since I’d known such comfort that I cried again—but this time, in relief instead of misery.

Gentle fingertips wiped my tears away, and a soft coo made me sigh and snuggle deeper into the warmth of the bed.

I slept.

By all the gods, every part of my body really fucking hurt.

But also by all the gods, I was glad to be hurting, because that meant I was alive.

I woke up warm and secure, wrapped in strong arms, with my back pressed against a very muscular, distinctly male, and entirely unfamiliar body .

Wait…

Wrapped in multiple sets of strong arms. What the hells?

When I inhaled sharply, all the arms tightened around me. “Be still,” a man’s voice said quietly in Alliance Standard, his mouth near my ear. “You were concussed and your injuries have not yet fully healed.”

His words took a while to process, so a concussion was a definite possibility. I remembered my ship falling toward the surface of an inhabited moon, but not the impact itself or much of what happened after.

My instincts told me to fight to free myself. And I damn sure tried to get away, but I couldn’t move at all, much less escape the grip of his arms—any of them. Was I weakened by blood loss or was he simply that much stronger than me? Or both?

“Who are you?” My voice sounded hoarse, as if I’d been unconscious for a very long time.

“My name is Vos Turek.” He said it very formally, as if giving me his name held some special significance to him. That was definitely possible. I didn’t know what species he was. Some cultures held the sharing of names, especially full names, as highly meaningful. For a few, it was as intimate as copulation—though hopefully that wasn’t the case here.

“I’m Calla Wren,” I said, in case his people interpreted a refusal to give my name as an insult. I was in no shape to defend myself if this man got angry. “Lieutenant Calla Wren of the Alliance Defense.”

“I am most pleased to hear your name,” he said, his voice warm. So maybe I was right that his people considered names important.

With introductions over, I asked the obvious question: “Where am I?”

“My home. Your ship crashed. Do you remember?”

His words brought back more fragments of memories of an accident in space and plunging through a moon’s atmosphere and a raging thunderstorm toward dark water.

I recalled being carried in someone’s arms as they ran very fast through trees in the rain, and then lying on a hard surface, and something sweet on my lips, and lots and lots of pain. But I could not remember this man’s face—only a shadowy figure and a pair of silvery eyes.

More vague memories surfaced then: a group of men laughing at me and some kind of violent struggle. But here in this soft bed, those scenes seemed as distant as if they’d taken place in another lifetime.

My recollections might be hazy and my thoughts sluggish, but I had the impression this man—Vos—had cradled and cared for me very tenderly, which was odd because we were strangers to each other.

Despite my aches and pains, I should be far more injured than I felt. I recalled broken bones and internal injuries. I doubted a sparsely inhabited moon of an outer rim planet had an Alliance-standard hospital, and Vos’s home—or what I could see of it from the bed—appeared humble.

The bedroom wasn’t large, but it seemed comfortable, especially compared to my tiny shared quarters on Outpost 60. The large bed was a vast improvement on my narrow bunk, for sure. Heavy rain thrummed on the roof and what sounded like a window behind me. That was lovely. I hadn’t heard rain for years.

Through the open doorway, I caught sight of a simple kitchen, dining table, and part of living area with a chair and sofa and a nest made of branches. Several large medical kits were stacked on the table. Lanterns provided light throughout the house.

Very belatedly, I realized he’d wrapped me in numerous blankets, but I was naked beneath them.

Now that I’d taken stock of my surroundings and gotten my bearings, I asked, “What’s the name of this moon? How long have I been here? And where the hells are my clothes? ”

“This is Iosa, the fourth moon of Jakora,” Vos said. The sets of arms around my body loosened and seemed to caress me before growing still once more. “You have been unconscious for three days. I am sorry that your uniform is no longer able to be worn. I had to remove it to treat your injuries, and it was badly torn to begin with.”

I’d never heard of Iosa. And I certainly felt like I’d been unconscious for days. He could have said a month and I might have believed him.

As for my lack of clothes…

“Even if my uniform is ruined, you didn’t have anything else to put me in?” I scoffed.

He didn’t reply at first. “My own clothes would not fit you,” he said finally. “I am much larger. My body is not like yours.”

That admission cleared my brain as if someone had used their hand to sweep away the fog. “ What are you?”

When he didn’t reply immediately, my stomach knotted. Who or what the hells was I in bed with?

“Let me look at you,” I demanded.

“I do not advise?—”

“I said , let me see you.” Now angry as well as uneasy, I pulled against his grip, though trying to get away sent a bolt of pain through my abdomen. “Let go.”

If he’d wanted to kill me, he would have already done so. And he certainly wouldn’t have invested his time and resources to save my life or warned me not to re-injure myself. But now more fragments of memories were surfacing of what had happened after I’d crashed…and they featured a monstrous sea creature and a bloodbath.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strained. Maybe I’d offended him with my tone. At the moment I didn’t care.

“I started to say that I do not advise making sudden movements.” Vos’s arms loosened and the bed moved as he made room for me. “Turn slowly.”

As motivated as I was to see him, I did as he suggested and rolled from my left side to my back and then to my right side very gingerly, making sure I stayed fully wrapped in the blankets. He’d presumably already seen all of me there was to see, but he wouldn’t be getting any more peeks if I could help it.

My first clear view of him by lantern light explained a lot of things—including the sensation of being wrapped in more than the usual number of arms and why his clothes would not fit me.

But most especially I saw why I recalled the shadowy silhouette of a sea creature.

Vos’s body was humanoid, with a wide, muscular torso, long white hair and lashes, dark eyes, and purple skin covered with green-and-white circles. His flesh had a lovely iridescent sheen that caught the dim light and seemed to glow. His hair shimmered.

On either side of his chest, gills fluttered as he breathed, though he seemed to breathe through his nose and mouth as well. My gaze moved from the gills to two pairs of long, multicolored tentacles on his upper and lower back. These were no doubt the extra “arms” that had cradled me so gently but firmly.

Colors and patterns rolled through his skin, along with pulses of bioluminescence. The waves of light moved across and down the length of his body to his waist, where he’d wrapped a blanket around himself.

I couldn’t tell exactly how tall he was at the moment, but he was at least two meters tall versus my very reasonable one-point-seven meters, and so solidly built he must easily tip the scales at twice my weight.

He watched me look him over, as if waiting for some kind of reaction. I couldn’t help but fear him, but I tried not to show it. He could tear me in half as easily as he’d dispatched the men in the boat .

Since he seemed to be waiting for me to speak, I said, “So, you’re Fortusian.”

“Yes.” He blinked, clearly bemused. Maybe because I didn’t recoil or seem shocked.

I would never have admitted it, but it helped that he was both breathtakingly muscular and devastatingly handsome.

“You are not horrified by my appearance?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I was stationed on Fortusia for two years,” I explained. “Your people combine humanoid DNA with DNA from animal and plant species from across the galaxy.”

“Yes.” His tentacles reached for me, as if they wanted to wrap around my blanket cocoon again, but he drew them back. They quivered in what might be agitation.

Part of me wanted to tell him it was okay to hold me again because he made me feel warm and secure, and the other, more logical half of me remembered a bloodbath created by those same tentacles.

Also, there was the fact I had a squad and a shitty, useless squad commander back on Outpost 60 who all probably thought I was dead. I was a lieutenant in the Alliance Defense, not some rich tourist wandering the cosmos without responsibilities. I had no business wanting to be held by a gorgeous cephalopod man on the fourth moon of Jakora.

I needed to send an SOS to the outpost and request rescue. If I didn’t do so immediately, the Alliance Defense brass would consider me a deserter. I’d be dishonorably discharged and thrown in prison.

Vos stilled his tentacles, except for their quivering tips, which swayed in my direction. The movement caused his blanket to slip. I glimpsed more bare purple and green skin before he drew the covers up over his hips again.

“Why the hells are you naked in bed with me?” I demanded.

His bioluminescence pulsed more quickly. “I have not touched you in any way other than as a medic,” he said, a bit stiffly, as if hurt or offended that I might think he’d taken liberties while I was unconscious. “On my honor, I swear this.”

“But you’re naked,” I persisted. “Maybe you have no clothes that fit me, but don’t tell me you don’t have clothes for yourself.” My eyes narrowed. “Were you expecting sex from me as a thank you for saving my life?”

Now he seemed to swell with disgust. “Of course not.”

“Then why?”

“It is…difficult to explain.” His tentacles plucked at the bedding, but I wasn’t sure what emotion caused their restlessness. “I swear I will never touch you without your permission and you will not be subject to the sight of my body without covering. Will you drop the matter—at least for now?”

His obvious discomfort and evasiveness made me a thousand times more curious, but the note of pleading in his voice diminished my suspicion and mistrust. Whatever the reason for his nudity, he seemed…self-conscious about it rather than being up to no good.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh. Despite my misgivings, I was curious about him. “So, back to your biology. If you don’t mind me asking, you have three hearts, four tentacles…and I’m assuming camouflage and color-changing abilities?”

“Yes.” His tentacles reached for me again. This time, he let them rest on top of my blankets, and I let them stay there. “Also, I have accelerated healing abilities. I can survive extreme temperatures and at vast ocean depths.”

“How strong are your tentacles?”

“Very.” He tilted his head. “But I assure you, you have no reason to fear them.”

I had damn good reasons, but I didn’t say that aloud. “So how did I end up at your house? Did you see me crash?”

His eyes took on that silvery hue I recalled from the night of the crash—the one that had terrified me shining in the dark. “ I was swimming in the ocean when your fighter crashed nearby.”

“Oh.” I touched my temple and winced when my fingertips found a painful spot that felt like a burn. “I don’t remember actually crashing, but I recall being in a boat with some men.” I met his dark gaze. “And I remember you killed them all.”

“I did.” He said it simply, as if he’d told me he’d made breakfast. “They hurt you when they took you from your fighter, and hurt you again on their boat. I am sure they intended to do more harm to you when they reached their camp.”

His tone made it clear what kind of harm he meant. My stomach churned. Still, I wasn’t convinced a wholesale slaughter had been necessary. “Who were they?”

“A group of raiders who have a camp near where you crashed. Vermin who pay little attention to those who live on this moon, but kill and steal from travelers who pass through the system.” His eyes glowed. “For the harm they have visited upon innocents, and what they did to you and likely planned to do, they earned their deaths many times over.”

The cruelty of the Atolani and his crew supported Vos’s explanation, and more to the point, his earnestness seemed utterly genuine. I had no more use for raiders than he and wouldn’t mourn their deaths.

I had one final question, and it was the one I had to steel myself the most to ask. “How badly was I hurt?”

Rather than tell me, he handed me a medical scanner that had been sitting on the windowsill and let me process the information for myself. I read through its scans and records, growing colder by the moment.

Before I finished reading the full list, I let the scanner fall from my hand onto the bed. Vos’s tentacles vibrated in obvious alarm. My nausea and chills of horror made it difficult to wonder why he seemed to care so much about me and how I felt .

“How am I alive?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “I should be dead. I should be dead .”

Vos flinched as if I’d struck him. His tentacles wrapped around my blankets and started to draw me toward him.

Angrily, I pushed hard on his chest. He let out a soft coo that somehow made my body relax and my anger and fear dissipate. My hands slid down his chest and landed on the bedding.

As good as it felt, I didn’t want anyone controlling me in any way. Not anymore.

“Stop,” I said, though my voice was ragged instead of furious. “Don’t do that—whatever the hells you just did. Don’t take away my feelings. You have no right.”

He flinched again. The coo faded. “You must not exert yourself too much.”

“I want to know how you kept me alive without a hospital.” I wanted to punch him for keeping secrets about my well-being, and I might have done it if I didn’t know it would do me far more harm than him. “Just tell me. And don’t lie.”

“I would never lie to you,” he said.

His voice and the way his gaze held mine told me he meant it, but that didn’t lessen my anger. “Stop stalling and talk.”

He took a deep breath and let it out. “My medical kits are more well-stocked than most. I am highly trained in triage care.”

“Nothing in those medical kits could have saved me. I want the whole truth or…” What could I threaten him with? I was injured, I had no weapons, and I was pretty much at his mercy. All I had was a pathetic “Vos, please .”

His tentacles caressed me again in a vain attempt to comfort me. “I told you I heal quickly.” He raised one of his beautiful tentacles, then let it curl back around my blanket cocoon. “My healing ability is carried in my blood. I shared it with you and used it in combination with conventional medical procedures to treat your wounds.”

I recalled that sweet and unfamiliar taste I thought had been part of a dream, or some kind of medicine or food in liquid form. My stomach roiled.

His blood . In my mouth, down my throat. On my wounds and into my bloodstream. While I lay unconscious and helpless.

While I lay dying .

For most of my life, I’d had no control over my life or my body. I had sworn never to lose that control again, and now I had. The reasons mattered less than the memories that crashed over me like waves.

Almost blindly, I pushed his tentacles away and tried to roll over to put my back to him, but agony seared my middle. I let out a cry of pain.

“Please, Calla,” Vos said, his expression equal parts grave and grieving. He held me still with his human hand on my shoulder. His touch was warm, but I wanted to knock his hand away. “You will hurt yourself again. Even if you needed it, I cannot offer you more blood to heal until—” He cut himself off.

“Until what?” I demanded.

His dark gaze met mine. “Until I have replaced what I shared. I gave you all I safely could, and then some.”

How the hells much blood had he given me?

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to scream at him for what he’d done, because he’d done something invasive and I couldn’t stand anyone doing anything to me without my permission. But if he hadn’t shared his blood with me, I would be dead. If he hadn’t killed the raiders and taken me home, I’d be dead. If he hadn’t been swimming in the ocean when I crashed, I’d be dead.

No matter which way I looked at it, I owed him my life, and yet I hated that fact because of how he’d saved me. I made a little sound and closed my eyes so he couldn’t see my unshed tears.

“Calla,” he said quietly. “I am truly sorry. I have done you a great wrong. I swear I did not intend to do you harm. ”

I barely knew him, but I did believe that. I took a shaky breath. “I get it. You wanted to save me.”

“Yes, but I am also selfish. I could not watch you die.”

I opened my eyes so I could see his face. His expression was earnest.

“Why not?” I asked. “You killed a bunch of raiders to get me away from them and then drained half your blood to keep me alive. I don’t get it. Who the hells am I to you? I’m nobody.”

“You are not nobody.” Vos’s eyes blazed with anger. “Please do not say that.”

“Is it because I’m a woman, then? Or at least a living being who isn’t a raider? You can’t be that hard up for companionship.”

“I have never sought companionship, until now.” His tentacles tightened around my blankets but didn’t try to draw me closer to his body. “If I tell you the whole truth, it will not make the situation any better.”

His expression went from guarded to a hard mask—the kind I’d only seen on mercenaries and soldiers. His body language also changed, becoming tense, as if ready to attack.

The cold efficiency with which he’d killed the raiders, who were vicious, well-trained fighters themselves, should have clued me in that Vos wasn’t an ordinary man who’d chosen to live on a lonely moon on the edge of Alliance space. I blamed my injuries for not thinking about the implications of his slaughter of the raiders beyond the fact he’d simply wanted to save me from their clutches.

Fear chilled my heart. Who was this man?

Maybe his nudity had far less to do with sex than making himself appear less threatening, or even vulnerable.

Which might have worked if not for the fact those tentacles could kill me without much trouble. He might have no weapons on him, but he himself was a weapon. And no one would mistake his cold eyes for anything but those of a killer .

Still, I wanted the truth, whatever it was. I deserved that much.

“We’re both naked in your bed,” I pointed out. “Whatever your real reasons were for everything you’ve done, lying to me will make the situation worse. I respect truth more than lies any day.”

Vos’s expression didn’t change, but his tentacles caressed me again through the blankets. “Calla…”

Why did his voice sound so much like a coo when he said my name? And why did those two simple syllables melt something in my heart?

“You smell like my mate,” he said.

If he’d told me I was the long-lost queen of his homeworld, I would have been less shocked.

“I do not know how this is possible,” he continued as I gaped. “Because I was created to serve the Silent Guard, I was made to not need a mate, or so I was told by those who created me.”

The Silent Guard?

If he’d served in the Guard, he’d been one of the deadliest assassins in the galaxy—and probably still was, if he’d survived to serve out his enlistment. Now the killings of the raiders made all the sense in the world.

I was naked in bed next to a cold-blooded, highly trained killer who just happened to be one of the most beautiful men I’d ever laid eyes on, and who happened to think I was his mate .

“I never imagined such a situation for myself,” Vos continued. “It is not unknown for a human to be the true mate of a Fortusian, but it is rare.” His dark eyes searched my face. “I have horrified you.”

“No.” I swallowed hard. “I’m not horrified. I don’t…I don’t know how to feel. We don’t even know each other. And I’m a pilot in the Alliance Defense. I planned to reenlist for two more years. I want the bonus.”

If Vos had been alone a long time, maybe his body had simply reacted to me as the first biologically compatible being he’d encountered. Even as I thought that, though, I didn’t believe he couldn’t tell the difference between sexual attraction and the call of a true mate.

Thanks to my time stationed on his homeworld, I understood enough about Fortusian biology to know what that meant. If I left him, he would pine for me for the rest of his days. He could find physical pleasure with others, but never true comfort or the sense of belonging to another who also belonged to him.

The concept of a true mate had always revolted me because I believed it eliminated my power or right to make a choice for myself. But at this moment, I wasn’t revolted by him or his claim. Apprehensive, overwhelmed, and fully aware I couldn’t desert the Alliance Defense, but not revolted. Was that the concussion talking? I wasn’t sure.

“Is that why you didn’t want to explain why you’re naked and holding me?” I asked. “Because you think I’m your mate?”

“Partly. You also experienced intense nightmares and did not lie still in your sleep.” He remained expressionless, but his voice sounded more gentle now. And he’d relaxed a little, possibly because I hadn’t tried to punch him for calling me his mate. “I needed to keep you warm and prevent you from rolling off the bed.”

“You could have done that with your clothes on,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps I wanted to see your reaction to my body.” His gaze stayed on my face, searching for some clue as to what I thought of the situation. “If you were repulsed by me, you could not be my mate.”

I felt many things when I looked at him—too many to process all at once—but repulsion was not one of them.

What could I say? He’d gone to so much trouble to keep me alive. By admitting he thought I was his mate, he’d made himself vulnerable to me in a way that must have gone against every bit of training and indoctrination the Guard had imposed on him.

But none of that was on me. I did owe him for saving my life, even if he’d done it in a way I didn’t want, but I didn’t owe him me .

For that matter, if I didn’t reenlist in the Defense, I wouldn’t receive my hefty bonus for completing my second full term of enlistment. I counted on that money to fund my settlement on some world I hadn’t chosen yet, where I could work and save up more to travel the stars.

Iosa wasn’t in any of those plans. Neither was Vos.

Better to tell him now so he didn’t get his hopes up. Just because I didn’t want to be his mate didn’t mean I was ungrateful or I wanted to be cruel.

“You need not say it or explain.” His voice was quiet. “I see your answer plainly.” His expression closed off as if he’d flicked a switch. “Then, if it is what you wish, I will set this strange feeling aside and simply say I did not want you to die nameless and alone on this moon.”

But there was no un-ringing that bell.

Despite his offer to pretend otherwise, he clearly believed, or knew through some extra sense, that I was his mate.

I’d find some way to compensate him for everything he’d done. He’d saved my life at great risk to his own. That was worth a chunk of my savings, since now I might live to replenish my account instead of, as he’d said, dying nameless and alone on this moon.

I wanted to be asleep instead of watching a powerful man struggle to come to terms with the most profound of rejections, but if I was too much of a coward to face him now, I probably didn’t deserve to have survived the crash.

“I’m sorry.” I cleared my throat so I didn’t sound shaky when I added, “It’s probably for the best if I send a communication immediately to my squad commander requesting rescue. ”

He said nothing for a long moment. “There are no interplanetary communications stations within fifty kilometers,” he said finally. “Except for the equipment at the raider camp, and we cannot go there.”

I was shocked speechless once more. A nice, quiet homestead was one thing, but fifty kilometers to a town large enough to have interplanetary communications? Who would want to live such an isolated life?

A man who lived in hiding, who’d had his fill of the ways of the worlds and alliances beyond this moon.

“When you are better healed, I will travel to the closest communications relay station and send a message to your squad commander,” Vos said. “I will not leave you here alone until you can protect yourself. Even running, I would be gone for many days. I have no motorized transportation.”

“You’re not going to run fifty kilometers by yourself to send an SOS on my behalf,” I said, my voice sharper than I’d intended because the thought of anyone offering to do that for me was beyond ludicrous. “We’ll have to wait until I’m well enough to travel with you. My squad commander will just have to understand I couldn’t call for help right away.”

Mentally, though, I snorted at my own words. Proos would probably be insufferable and irate about my long absence rather than relieved to hear I’d survived both the raider battle and the crash. At least my squadron mates would welcome me back to the outpost, even if Proos yelled at me for hours and assigned me to cleaning duty in the mess hall.

I caught glimpses of a half-dozen emotions in Vos’s eyes before he regained his hard mask. One of them might have been hope, though I could have imagined it or misread his expression.

“It will take weeks or months for you to heal enough,” he said. “But I will do my best to help you recover your strength, if you will trust me. ”

Trust. After everything I’d been through, that was a much bigger ask than he could possibly realize.

I did believe he’d help me recover and make the journey to a town where I could contact the Alliance Defense—but I also believed he thought these weeks or months of healing might give him a chance to persuade me to stay.

I should tell him there was no chance, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come out.