Samantha
I woke to the feel of strong arms wrapped around me, the steady rise and fall of Kaerius’s chest beneath my cheek.
His warmth surrounded me—protective, possessive.
I felt rested and limber in ways I couldn’t recall ever being before.
The gentle twinge between my thighs only served to remind me of all the pleasure he’d given me when he and I had made love earlier.
A blush crept up my cheeks as I recalled what we’d gotten up to throughout the night.
We’d only taken breaks to scarf down some much-needed food or for short naps.
“You are quiet,” he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.
“Do you regret it?” I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze.
His expression was unreadable, but there was something vulnerable beneath the sharp edges of his features—something hesitant.
He was bracing himself for the worst but hopeful for the best.
“No,” I whispered.
“I don’t.” How could I?
When I had learned so much about passion—about how tender and how wild he could be—about my limits?
How could I regret any of what we’d done after he’d saved me—three times at this point, but who was counting?
Something shifted in his expression, and he let out a breath as if he had been holding it.
His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine.
“Good.” This was my Ondrithar king at his most open, his least kingly.
He was showing me the side of him that I was certain very few people ever saw.
I swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“When you said I was your mate…” I’d been trying to figure out what to make of that from the start and hadn’t begun to believe it was something wondrous until after the first round of sex last night.
But I had to have the words, and just as he had been braced for the worst, I now found myself doing the same.
His grip tightened ever so slightly.
“You are my one—the only mate I will ever have. It is a bond that cannot be undone.” His voice went rough as he spoke, his silver eyes flashing with passion, with fire.
It felt like he was almost daring me to defy him on this point.
My stomach fluttered.
The intensity in his voice sent a shiver through me.
“And what does that mean for me?” I couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted with a human like me.
The fuel stuff that he wanted, maybe—but why call me mate?
Why claim me in front of his men?
That was bigger.
His gaze darkened, but there was no menace in it—only certainty.
“It means you are my queen.” Those were the words I had expected him to say, and yet they still caught me completely by surprise.
Kaeirus trailed his hand up my spine, his fingers brushing my shoulder and then my throat until I tilted my head and met his eyes.
Goosebumps rose in the wake of his touch.
I blinked.
“Queen?” Was he crazy?
Did he even know what he was saying?
If he made me queen of the Ondrithar, would his people accept me?
At that moment, I realized this might be why I’d nearly been thrown into a nest of Shadefin off the side of a cliff yesterday—at least some people didn’t want me here.
And what would that mean for the humans on the USS Legacy ?
“Yes.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face.
“You will rule beside me. But more than that, you are mine to protect, to cherish.” My heart pounded.
It was too much, too fast.
And yet…
it didn’t feel wrong.
He exhaled, his expression turning more serious.
“But there is more. I need to speak to you about the Shadefin.”
I stiffened.
“What about them?” Remembering the hundreds of eyes from a writhing mass of black instantly dampened my mood.
I had seen the image more than once in my dreams throughout the night.
I’d learned enough by now to know they were a major problem the Ondrithar faced.
He sat up slightly, pulling me against his chest.
“They are multiplying faster than ever before. The nest we destroyed—it was only one of many. My people once put them into hibernation using a poison derived from a fuel known as Atara.” He met my gaze.
“That’s what I showed you before, what I asked you to look for. If we had even a small amount of it, we could drive them back once again and ensure the safety of the next generations.”
I sucked in a breath.
“Atara fuel?” My mind raced.
So that’s what it was called.
It did not ring a bell, and I was beginning to believe that I had misremembered seeing it before.
I had no way of knowing if the USS Legacy carried it unless I managed to make contact.
“If we do,” I said carefully, “you want to use it?”
He nodded.
“Without it, my people will not survive. The Shadefin devour everything in their path. We have no way to stop them.” I swallowed hard.
The weight of what he was saying settled over me.
This wasn’t just about me or him—it was about survival.
And not just the survival of the Ondrithar, either.
If the Shadefin were not driven back, they would multiply and multiply and become a threat to everyone else on the planet—including us humans, if we did manage to secure land for a new colony.
I nodded.
“Then we find out.” It was the only way, and I was certain that helping Kaerius would make him willing to help my people.
I was beginning to know him—learning what he hid behind those sharp eyes—and what I saw was good, honorable.
A man who cared about the safety of his people.
A man who’d respect the same desire in me.
A slow smile spread across his lips, approval glowing in his eyes.
“That,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against my temple, “is why you are my mate.”
Flushed with warmth and still floating a little on cloud nine, he helped me get out of bed.
Neither of us wanted to leave the safety of his chambers, but the situation with the Shadefin couldn’t wait.
We washed up, dressed, and ate from the dish of fish and vegetables that had been brought—all pickled and seasoned to delight the taste buds.
Then Kaerius tucked me under his arm and led me to the exit pool.
“You stay at my side,” he warned, for probably the tenth time already.
“We swim to the surface to use your communicator, and then we come straight back down.”
“What about land for the people still aboard the USS Legacy ?” I asked.
Before we left, I had brought up the subject, and he hadn’t opposed my request for them to have a settlement in Ondrithar territory.
But he hadn’t agreed on any specifics yet, either.
“What about the other diplomats?” I added.
“Do you know what happened to them?”
He drew me into the water, and the dress I wore swirled around my legs.
I’d pulled it back on after he’d run it through a cleansing cycle in the bathroom area.
Very handy, that.
“I only know that your friend Imogen is with Krak’zol in the Sanos Abyss. The others, I do not know.” This was not the first time he’d mentioned that particular ruler, and I wondered if the dark male I’d seen take Imogen knew what he’d bargained for when he took her.
If anyone knew how to take care of herself, it was her.
Once we were in the tunnel, Kaerius tucked me against his body, his face breaking out in an uncharacteristic smile as he began propelling us through the water.
He’d carried me this way last night, too, but I had been too rattled to pay attention.
Now, I had all the time in the world to marvel at the tunnels through the ship, the bioluminescent trails that blazed the way, and the colorful Ondrithar that graced the hallways.
This was when I started to see that, though they had technology and used it, some things were much more old-fashioned.
We passed a doorway where a group of people sat around, weaving baskets by hand from strings of red kelp.
And once outside, I realized that the harvesting of the extensive underwater gardens was also handwork, unassisted by modern tools.
The spaceship that had brought their ancestors here functioned to some degree, shining with blue light in strips along its pockmarked hull, but it was very much stranded.
That was not a ship that could ever fly again.
After that final observation, I no longer had time to stare at the sights.
Clear of the ship-turned-palace, Kaerius held me tighter against his body, and with an almost boyish grin, he sped up.
Really sped up.
We shot upward, racing through the water in tight twists and curls that I knew were designed to show off his skills—to exhilarate and excite.
It worked.
It was a wild water rush—playful, wild—a bit like a mating dance, the way our bodies were pressed tightly together.
I loved every second of it, but all too soon, playtime was over, and he aimed us for the surface.