Page 22 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)

22

T he steady beeping cut through the cotton-wool fog in Ashley’s mind first, mechanical and rhythmic. Pain followed—a deep, throbbing ache that pulsed through every inch of her body. Her right side felt like one massive bruise, each shallow breath sending sharp twinges through her ribs.

She tried to shift and immediately regretted it. Lightning bolts of pain shot from her hip to her shoulder, drawing a soft hiss through her clenched teeth. Memory flickered—the thunderous roar of the explosion, searing heat, being thrown through the air like a rag doll. She pushed the images away, focusing instead on prying her heavy eyelids open.

The familiar contours of her quarters slowly materialized, softened by dim light. Medical monitors cast a pale glow across the room, displays showing a constellation of steady lights and rolling data streams. She frowned. Her mouth felt stuffed with cotton, her lips cracked and dry.

She turned her head.

Sy was slumped in a chair to her right, pulled close to her bed. His usual rigid posture had abandoned him in sleep, his head tilted at an angle guaranteed to leave his neck screaming when he woke. Even unconscious, worry shadowed his features—brows slightly furrowed, jaw tight. His hand rested on the bed near hers, as though he’d fallen asleep reaching for her. Something warm unfurled in her chest at the sight of him there, keeping watch even in sleep, despite the pain.

Another memory fragment tried to surface—Sy’s voice calling her name, desperation raw in it—but she shoved that away too. Not yet. She couldn’t handle those memories yet.

She inched her hand nearer, folding her fingers around his.

“Good to see you awake.” Zeke’s quiet voice drew her attention left. He stood checking the medical readouts, his movements precise and controlled. When he turned, his professional smile held genuine warmth. “How’s the pain? Scale of one to ten?”

Ashley tried to swallow, wincing at her dry throat. “Seven?” The word rasped out. “Eight when I move.”

Zeke nodded, adjusting something on one of her IV lines. “This should help. You’ve got some impressive bruising and three cracked ribs but nothing that won’t heal.” He paused, his expression softening as he read the question in her eyes. “Lila’s fine. She’s been in to see you, but you were still asleep.”

The tight knot of worry in Ashley’s chest finally began to loosen. “She’s okay? Really okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” Zeke’s smile widened. “She’s down in the dining hall with Tor and Kal. Actually, she’s become quite the celebrity. Everyone with a legion is calling her ‘Your Highness’ now. Apparently, only a legion with royal blood can operate as a trigger.”

A tired laugh bubbled up in her throat, quickly turning to a grimace as her ribs protested. But the amusement remained, bringing memories flooding back.

“She always wanted to be a princess when she was little.” The words came easier now as whatever Zeke had added to her IV began taking effect, dulling the sharp edges of pain. “Though she was always rescuing the prince—or the dragon. Used to say the dragon was just misunderstood and needed a friend.”

“Well, she’s certainly living up to that now.” Zeke nodded as he adjusted her monitors, his movements swift and practiced. “She’s got half the garrison wrapped around her finger, and we all owe her our survival. I’d say that makes her a pretty impressive princess.”

Their voices must have carried because Sy jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, found her face immediately. In the space of a heartbeat, he was out of the chair and on his knees beside her bed.

Zeke murmured something and excused himself, his footsteps fading as Sy’s fingers trembled against her palm. The usual stern set of his jaw had given way to something raw and vulnerable that made her chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with her injuries.

“Ashley.” Her name came out rough, almost broken. “I thought—” He swallowed hard, his grip tightening fractionally on her hand. “When I saw the explosion, when you wouldn’t answer?—”

He broke off again, his free hand reaching up to brush her cheek with trembling fingers.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, turning her face into his touch. “I’m right here.”

The gentle reassurance seemed to break something in him. Words spilled out in a rush, tumbling over each other.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was wrong—about everything. About humans being weak, and I’m so sorry I said that.” His voice cracked. “When I saw that explosion, when I thought I’d lost you… I’ve never been so terrified. And all I could think was that you’d never know how much I?—”

He drew in a shuddering breath.

“I love you. I love your strength, your compassion, your fierce heart. I love how you fight for what matters, how you never give up on people.”

She pressed her finger to his lips, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. Her heart felt too full, tears pricking at her eyes.

In that moment between throwing herself from the gun emplacement and its destruction, she’d had her own moment of clarity. The thought that had filled her mind hadn’t been fear for herself but grief at never telling him how she felt.

“I love you too,” she said softly, watching his eyes widen. “Have for a while now.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, hope and disbelief warring across his features. Then he leaned forward, one hand sliding into her hair with infinite gentleness as he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft, careful of her injuries, but it sent warmth spreading through her entire body.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered again. “I couldn’t… I can’t?—”

“You didn’t lose me,” she assured him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She sighed softly as the pain meds kicked in, turning everything a little fuzzy around the edges and making it easier to focus on the warmth of his touch rather than the ache in her ribs.

“There’s something else.”

He moved and pulled back his sleeve, revealing his wrist. Her eyes widened at the sight of dark, intricate patterns wrapping around his skin. They looked almost like tattoos, though she knew the Izaean didn’t have them. The marks were beautiful and strange—ivy-like patterns that seemed to flow into each other.

“What is that?” she whispered, reaching out.

“Mate marks,” he said softly, turning his wrist so she could see the full pattern. When her fingers brushed against them, the marks felt warm beneath her touch, almost alive.

“They appeared when I…” His voice roughened. “When I realized I couldn’t lose you. Warriors of my people only receive them when they’ve found their true bond mate.”

The implications slowly sank in through the pleasant haze of medication. “Does that mean…” She couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at her lips. “Are we married now?”

His answering laugh was soft, tender.

“Technically, yes.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch impossibly gentle. “But we can have a proper bonding ceremony, if you’d like. Something that honors both our cultures.”

“I’d like that.” The words came easily, naturally, as if she’d been waiting to say them all along.

His smile was brighter than she’d ever seen it. He leaned in to kiss her again, this one slightly deeper than the last but still gentle, mindful of her injuries. When he pulled back, his expression had shifted to concern. “You should rest.”

As if his words had summoned it, exhaustion swept over her. Her body felt heavy, reminding her that despite the medication, she was still recovering from being blown halfway across a battlefield. But the thought of him leaving made her chest tight in a way that had nothing to do with her cracked ribs.

He must have read something in her face because he stood, only to carefully settle himself on the bed beside her.

“Move over a little,” he ordered, helping her shift with careful hands until she was nestled against his chest.

“Bossy,” she grumbled, but the solid warmth of him was better than any painkiller, his heartbeat strong and steady under her ear.

He curved an arm protectively around her, his hand splayed across her back. The position should have hurt, should have aggravated her injuries, but somehow he’d arranged them so she felt only comfort and support.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be right here.”

She let her eyes drift closed, surrounded by his warmth and the subtle spice of his scent. The constant beeping of the monitors faded into white noise, overwhelmed by the gentle rhythm of his breathing. She felt completely safe, completely at peace.

This was where she belonged. Where she’d always belonged, even if neither of them had realized it until now.

As sleep pulled her under, she felt him press a kiss to her temple, his arms tightening fractionally around her. Her last conscious thought was that sometimes the best things in life came from the most unexpected places—even if you had to get blown up to figure it out.

She was getting married.

She didn’t think she’d ever get married again, let alone to a handsome alien warrior.

Ashley’s fingers trembled as she adjusted the wild grasses in her makeshift bouquet for what had to be the tenth time. The evening sun streaming through the tall window behind her warmed her shoulders through the thin fabric of her pale blue dress—the only one she’d brought to this planet.

“Stop fidgeting, Mom.” Lila’s gentle touch steadied her hands. “The flowers look perfect.”

She drew in a shaky breath and nodded, inhaling the earthy sweetness of the pretty grasses Lila, Kal, and Tor had gathered for her. Her voice caught as she tried to speak, emotions tangling in her chest until she could barely breathe. Joy warred with terror, anticipation with disbelief that this was actually happening.

“You look beautiful.” Lila reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair back among the woven flowers she wore as a crown.

“Sy’s gonna flip when he sees you,” Kal said from her left, grinning broadly.

Ashley glanced between Kal and Tor, who flanked her like proud sentinels. “You two should go on inside. Sy will want you with him. I have Lila here.”

The boys exchanged looks that made her pause. Kal’s eyes lit up as he spoke. “We can’t. We’re your honor guard.”

“My what?”

“It’s a very important role,” Kal said, practically bouncing on his feet. “Back when there were Latharian females, every bride had warriors to escort her. You should’ve seen how many guys wanted to do this when they heard about the wedding.”

“Half the garrison wanted to be here,” Tor added in his broken, raspy voice. It was easy to tell that his legion symbiont had retreated and Tor himself was back in charge of his body. “But Sy picked us.”

“What exactly does an honor guard do?” she asked, touched by their enthusiasm.

“We make sure you get to Sy safely,” Kal said and then straightened his shoulders, trying to look more serious. “And, uh, we’re supposed to protect your right to choose. If you changed your mind or anything.”

“Change my mind?” She blinked, surprised. “You mean…”

“We’re not here to make you go through with it,” Tor explained, his voice soft. “We’re here to protect whatever choice you make. That’s what makes it an honor. We get to fight everyone, if you decide you don’t want to bond with Sy.”

Then his expression fell. “But please don’t do that. Sy really loves you.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Both of you. I…” She straightened her shoulders. “But I promise, I won’t be needing an escape route today.”

The two boys beamed at her, relief written into every line of their bodies.

Lila squeezed her hand. “Ready?”

The garrison’s main doors loomed before them, ancient wood gleaming in the afternoon sun. Beyond those doors waited Sy, the warrior who’d claimed her heart despite—or perhaps because of—all their differences.

“Ready,” she said, and this time her voice didn’t shake.

The massive doors began to swing open with a groan of ancient mechanisms, and her heart thundered. This was it. This was the moment she’d step forward and choose her future—not because anyone forced her but because love had brought her here, to this planet, to these people, to Sy.

She took the first step forward, Kal and Tor moving into place on either side of her, their youthful pride evident in every step. Lila walked behind her, her daughter’s presence wrapping her in another layer of support and love.

The garrison’s main hall took her breath away. The vast stone chamber was packed with faces—human and Izaean alike. Even a few feral Izaeans had come, standing at the back of the crowd and glaring at everyone who got near with red eyes. Tears welled again in Ashley’s eyes. The sight of so many people gathered to witness her getting married made her heart skip.

But then she saw Sy, and everything else faded away.

He stood at the end of the aisle, tall and proud. He’d cleaned his leathers until they gleamed, and his dirty blond hair was slicked back from his face. The overhead lights caught the sharp angles of his features, highlighting the alien characteristics that made it so obvious he wasn’t human. Not that she cared—he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Her warrior.

Her Sy.

The way he looked at her… like she was his sun, moon, and stars all at once. Like she was precious beyond measure. How had she gotten so lucky?

She clutched her bouquet tighter as Kal and Tor escorted her down the aisle. Each step brought her closer to her future, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her handsome alien mate’s face. His expression softened with such tenderness that tears threatened again. She blinked them back, determined not to cry before the ceremony even began.

Kraath stood on the raised dais, wearing what appeared to be an official sash across his chest. His stern face softened into a smile as she approached, though his eyes remained sharp and assessing.

When they reached the dais, Kal and Tor stepped aside with matching grins, taking their places near Sy. Lila moved to stand beside Michelle in the front row, taking Ashley’s bouquet with her. Then it was just Ashley and Sy, facing each other before Kraath.

The garrison commander lifted his hands, and the murmur of voices died away instantly.

“We are brought here today,” his deep voice carried across the hall, “to witness something extraordinary. It is rare for two souls to travel so far to find each other through the vastness of space. But they have. And today, we celebrate as Warrior Sy and Lady Ashley join their lives together, proving that love knows no boundaries—not of planets, not of species, and not of culture. Their union represents hope for all of us, proving that love reaches beyond all differences. Please…” He turned to them to say, “face one other and take the hand of your mate.”

Sy’s hands were warm and strong, familiar now after all they’d been through together. She squeezed gently, and his answering pressure made her smile.

Kraath’s voice rang out clear and strong, carrying to the back of the hall. “Blood calls to blood and soul to soul.” His words filled the silent air, ancient and formal. “Soul calls to skin, woman to man, binding the halves of a whole together for all eternity.”

Kraath turned to her. “Lady Ashley, do you take this warrior who bears your marks on his skin to be your bond mate, to support and honor him for the rest of his life?”

Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Sy. “I do.” She nodded.

“Warrior Sy, do you take this female who has called marks on your skin to be your bond mate, to protect her and honor her for the rest of your life?”

Sy’s smile was radiant as he gazed down at her.

“I do,” he said, his voice so certain that her heart felt too full to contain all her love for him.

She watched as Kraath produced a length of red cloth.

“This binding,” he said, holding up the ceremonial cloth so all could see, “is merely a physical symbol of what already exists between these two.”

He began wrapping the cloth around their joined hands, the rich red fabric a contrast against their skin.

“For their hearts,” he continued, “have been bound since the moment Sy’s marks appeared, showing us all that some bonds are written in the stars—or in this case, on the skin.”

He secured the final loop of fabric. “What we do here today only makes visible what their souls have already decided.”

He stepped back, his hands outstretched so all could see their bound hands.

“As commander of this garrison,” Kraath declared, “it gives me great pleasure to bless your bonding. May it bring much solace and be fruitful.” Then his serious expression cracked into a grin. “And in deference to human tradition,” he added, looking at Sy, “this is where you kiss the bride.”

Sy tugged at their bound hands, his eagerness making him clumsy with the ceremonial cloth. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh as he muttered under his breath, his fingers fumbling with the fabric.

“Draanth it all to hell,” he growled, nearly tearing the cloth. With a smile, Kraath took pity on them and helped untangle the binding, though she noticed his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

The moment their hands were free, Sy’s strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her slightly as he drew her close. His kiss stole her breath away, deep and claiming, full of promises for their future.

Her hands slid up his chest to curl around his neck as she returned his kiss with equal passion, forgetting everyone else in the room. Heat bloomed between them, and when he finally broke the kiss, she could feel the rapid beat of his heart matching her own. They came up for air, flushed and grinning, while their friends whooped and cheered around them.

He offered her his arm, his eyes bright with joy. “Ready to go celebrate, my mate?”

The word “mate” sent a thrill through her.

“Absolutely, mate of mine.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, unable to stop smiling. She’d found more than just love on this alien world. She’d found her home, her future, and her happily ever after.