Until the door behind her exploded inward, and a familiar, broad-shouldered figure stood framed in the ruins.

  “I object,” Altav growled. “She’s already married. To me.”

  Skinny stood framed in the doorway, his gaze locked on the slender woman in white. He couldn’t look away from her, drinking in every detail about her within a heartbeat. The ache in the center of his chest intensified as he noted the fragility of her frame and the dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept since she’d run away days ago, but it was more than that. His heart ached at the haunting sadness wrapped around her like a mantle.

  He’d done that. He’d put that misery into her eyes and stamped out the last little bit of defiance that had allowed her to escape her father. Because she wasn’t fighting or running now. Instead she stood meekly next to her father, resignation written into every line of her body… into the tired slump of her shoulders.

  “Ignore him. That marriage wasn’t legal anyway,” Anton said to the official and motioned at his bodyguards. They were the two he recalled from the market.

  “What marriage?” the male on the screen demanded, but he was ignored by everyone.

  Skinny growled and stepped forward to allow the rest of the Warborne to stream past him.

  “Valid or not, this wedding isn’t happening.”

  Lifting his pistols, Skinny fired both, shattering the screen with the smug asshole who’d thought he could marry Marika and take her from him. He snarled again. No one could have his little mouse. She was his.

  The firefight was anticlimactic. Both bodyguards hit the deck within seconds, neat bullet holes in the centers of their foreheads and matching looks of surprise on their faces. Either they’d been utterly confident in their own abilities, or they’d seriously thought their boss’s reputation would somehow protect them even from bullets.

  “Well dammit,” Sparky grumbled. “Really expected a little more than that. You’re supposed to be evil henchmen,” he directed at the two bodies. “You know? Put up a fight… not just like die right away.”

  “Stay back, all of you!” Anton snarled, grabbing Marika and shoving a vicious-looking dagger against her throat. “Let me and my daughter leave, and no one gets hurt.”

  Skinny froze, his heart almost stopping at the sight of the blade against Marika’s delicate throat. Even from here he could see the frantic fluttering of her pulse in her neck. She wasn’t a hardened mercenary like the rest of them. She was terrified, the scent of her fear filling the room. Anton angled the dagger, the soft lights in the room catching the lethal edge. Skinny held his hand out in a silent command for the Warborne to stay back. One wrong move and Anton would slit his daughter’s throat.

  She locked eyes with him, and he read the acceptance of her own death there. “Kill me,” she begged. “Please.”

  His heart broke. Her voice was broken, her eyes sad. “Please don’t say that, little mouse. Don’t ever say that… ask that.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “There’s nothing left for me anymore.”

  “I can’t kill you. I won’t. You have so much to live for.”

  She smiled sadly. “I was dead long before we met. I should never have run. I should have just let him give me to Maxim.”

  “No…”

  She regretted running. Did she regret meeting him? No, he couldn’t believe that. He wouldn’t.

  “You shouldn’t. Never. We were meant to meet, little mouse. Meant to fall in love.”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes as she shook her head. A bright bead of blood trailed down her throat, the skin cut by her father’s blade.

  “It’s too painful.”

  “What is, little mouse?” Hope filled him and he surged forward half a step, the two of them locked into their own private conversation in the middle of all the tension. He was only brought up sharp by a nonverbal warning from Anton as he pulled his daughter closer against him.

  “Nothing,” he snarled and shook her. “You, stop talking, you little bitch. We’re walking out of here and none of you assholes are going to stop us.”

  He started to drag her backward toward the door. Skinny followed, knowing full well, if Anton got her through that door, he’d never see her again. Not alive.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarled. “Let her go and we’ll let you leave.”

  Something flared in the backs of Anton’s eyes, so quickly that Skinny almost missed it. He was already moving the moment Anton drew his blade across Marika’s throat.

  “No! Oh, lady, please. No,” he gasped, catching her in his arms when Anton thrust her away. Blood cascaded down the front of her body.

  “It’s okay, little mouse. I’ve got you,” he promised on a broken whisper as he held her close in one arm, his other hand pressing hard on her throat. “You’re going to be okay. I promise. I love you.”

  She smiled and then her eyes fluttered closed as his world ended.

  Looking up, he caught T’Raal’s gaze, his heart breaking in his chest.

  He’d lied and now he’d killed the woman he loved, just like he had his family.

  Time passed in a blur of agony. Each second was an eternity of torment. Skinny was numb, his teammates nudging him in the right direction as they got him and Marika back to the Sprite. She was dead in his arms and he couldn’t bring himself to think, much less talk about anything. His world had reduced to dull browns and greys as they hustled him through the ship. The only time he roused was when they tried to take his mouse from him and he fought them. She was his. No one was taking her from him.

  Then Sparky was in front of him. He had a quick glimpse of a fist before agony exploded across his face.

  “Let. The. Fuck. Go!” the human snarled, snatching Marika when Skinny stumbled back. “Unless you want her to fucking die, you fucking melodramatic bastard!”

  “What? You mean…” Skinny nursed his jaw as the others closed ranks while Sparky bundled Marika onto the medical bed. “Is she…”

  “Still has a heartbeat,” Tal’s voice was clipped and professional. “Sit if you’re going to. One word and I’ll have Sparky throw you out an airlock.”

  He crawled closer, hardly daring to believe… to hope…

  “Please, darling,” he murmured sitting as close to the bed as he could. The rings spun, casting a blueish glow over the fallen woman. She was so pale she looked dead and broken. His eyes filled with tears, the ragged hole where his heart had been pulsing with agony.

  A big hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to find Beauty at his side. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed in reassurance. Skinny nodded, his throat thick as Tal worked on the woman he loved.

  “Please, little mouse,” he begged, aching to touch her. To hold her... “You have to fight this and come back to me. Don’t let him win. You’re stronger than this. I know you are.”

  He didn’t know how long he sat there, watching and waiting as the former imperial medic worked on the tiny woman on the bed. Then it was done, the bed snapped off and she lay there, barely moving.

  “I’ve done all I can do,” the medic said in a low voice. “The rest is up to her. She has to want to come back. To recover.”

  The instant the bed’s discs cut off, Skinny moved, dragging his chair closer. At the last moment, before he touched her, he looked up at Tal.

  “You can stay with her,” the big medic said, an understanding smile on his face. “Do not move her, but you can stay. If any of these alarms go off, let me know right away. Understand?”

  17

  The others filed out, but Skinny didn’t hear them. All his attention was focused on the slender figure of his mate on the bed. He hadn’t asked her to be his mate. They hadn’t said the words, but she was his mate in every way that mattered. They were married, in the human tradition, so that made her his mate. He’d kill anyone who claimed otherwise.

  “Marika, kelarris,” he whispered, smoothing her hair from her face with a soft touch. “Please, darling, come back to me. I love you.”

  She looked like a sleeping angel, her dark hair around her head like a halo. She appeared so peaceful he didn’t want to wake her and bring her back to this. His heart clenched. She’d wanted to end it, had begged him to kill her… would she thank Tal for bringing her back or curse him?

  He flicked a glance down to her throat where he saw the thinnest scar—a mark she would have for the rest of her life to remind her that her own father had tried to kill her. His heart clenched as he gathered her tiny hand in his own.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were,” he murmured in the softest voice. He had no idea why he was talking. He didn’t even know if she could hear him, if she’d even want to listen, but he needed to tell her.

  “I knew you didn’t realize. Knew you thought we were Edanian. I wanted to tell you, sweetheart… but, humans think we’re monsters.” He shuddered at the memory of the newsfeeds and reports Tank had showed him. “They think we’re just after humans for breeders. We aren’t, my love. At least, I’m not. I just want you. I mean…” he backtracked suddenly, just in case she was the maternal type. “If you want young, I’m happy to put as many of them as you want in your belly. Be happy to—”

  The sudden image of a tiny little girl with his blonde curls and her mama’s big amber eyes filled his mind and his heart clenched. He wanted that. Wanted it so draanthing much he ached.

  “We’re Lathar,” he admitted, stroking his thumb over the back of her knuckles. She was so tiny and delicate, way too good for a rough heavy-worlder farmer like him. “Well, I am… some of the others aren’t full Lathar… but I am. I’m a heavy-worlder, adapted for life in the reaches. It’s a range of planets out in…” he chuckled a little. “Well, you’d say they were out in the sticks and then some. They’re wild and beautiful. I’d love to take you there someday.”

  The idea of taking her home felt right to him.

  “I haven’t been there for years. I lost my family. I lied then as well,” he admitted in a low voice, the words pouring from his heart.

  “I was young… fourteen. I lied when I said I would patrol the northern edge of the property. We’d been having problems with local gangs. It was just small stuff. A little stock rustling, outbuildings set on fire, that kind of thing. And I’d just discovered what girls were all about,” he admitted, even though telling his mate about youthful indiscretions wasn’t perhaps the best idea. “The ranch next to ours had a daughter, Liiavas. We’d arranged to meet in their barn. And… well,” he cleared his throat. “You can guess the rest.”

  He looked up, staring out of the medbay window as he recounted the rest of the sorry tale. It didn’t reflect well on him.

  “Only this time the gang wasn’t interested in small stuff. They wanted my sisters, but not for any honorable reason. When I got back, they were all dead. My two sisters, my mother… my father. They’d fought with everything they had but—”

  His breathing caught at the memory, still sharp after all this time. His mother and sisters had been brutalized, raped, and his father tortured and then shot through the head.

  “But one thing those reports are right about. I am a killer,” he admitted, tracing the delicate lines of her fingers with his thumb. Her bones were so small and delicate. He had to be careful to moderate his strength with her in case he hurt her. “I tracked down the males responsible, but I didn’t just kill them. I made them suffer. I made them suffer for hours before I granted them the release of death.”

  He shuddered and bowed his head. If he’d suspected she wouldn’t want anything to do with him before, he was certain of it now. If she survived, he’d let her go and get her settled on a peaceful planet somewhere, safe from her father.

  The tiny movement of her fingers against his made him catch his breath, and he looked up. Wide amber eyes watched him but without any of the fear he’d expected. Nor condemnation.

  “You…” Her voice was raspy and she coughed a little.

  Instantly he was there, holding her in his arms and helping her to sit up as he reached for a glass of water. “Here, drink slowly.”

  He helped her drink from the glass, holding it to her lips as she sipped slowly and then winced and rubbed at the front of her throat.

  “Careful,” he advised, totally focused on her. “Tal just finished healing you. You’ll be a little sore for a while.”

  She nodded, handing him the glass and then resting against him. His heart thrilled at the way she leaned into him so trustingly, even as it raged at the reason she was so tired.

  “Healing takes it out of you,” he told her as she rested her head against his shoulder. “You need rest.”

  She looked up at him. “You’re not a monster…”

  “I mean, I don’t think you’re a monster,” Marika continued in a soft voice, watching Altav carefully. She’d come back around to the sound of his deep voice and heard his heartbreaking confession.

  “You were only fourteen… you were a child,” she whispered, aghast at everything he’d been through.

  He shook his head. “It would be easy to say that and try to excuse myself. I was physically mature at twelve.”

  She didn’t ask what he meant by that. The small look in his eye was more than enough. Obviously Lathar matured faster than humans.

  “Physically, yes… but emotionally? Even an adult would struggle with losing their entire family that way.” Eyes wide, she reached up to brush her fingers against his cheek.

  He turned his cheek toward her hand, closing his eyes with a sigh. “I don’t deserve your understanding or your mercy. Not after lying to you and forcing you away.”

  He was so handsome. Now that she knew the heartbreak behind his charming smile, she loved him even more.

  Her breath caught. She loved him—truly and utterly—and he loved her.

  “But you came back,” she reminded him. “You didn’t give up on me. You saved me when everyone else would have just let me go. It was suicidal to take on my father… and Maxim that way.”

  He growled, his eyes flashing at the mention of her would-be groom. “You’re mine. You always will be. No human will ever take you away from me!”

  She hid her smile, her soul eased by his possessive declaration, and cycled back to what he’d said. Sliding her thumb along his full bottom lip, she looked up at him.

  “So… when you said young… did you mean babies?” she asked, watching his expression. She relaxed a little into his arms. She never thought she’d ever be having this conversation. She’d never wanted to have this sort of conversation before with anyone but him. “You want to have children with me?”

  His gaze didn’t slide away from hers. No prevarication or the same sort of evasiveness most human men would have pulled. Instead he simply nodded.

  “Yes. If that’s what you want. I’ll do anything to make you happy, little mouse. Just please… don’t leave me. I know I don’t deserve even this… holding you here, and if you want to leave, I’ll… I’ll let you go. It will kill me, but I will. For you.”

  She saw the courage it took for him to utter the words, how humbling they were and her heart ached for him. She’d meant to stretch it out, maybe… to tease him a little… but the agony in his eyes was too much for her.

  “Hey, hey…” She struggled to sit upright, her fingers on his lips to stop him talking. “No one’s leaving… I’m not leaving. And I want babies, eventually. For now, I just want you. I love you, Altav… or Skinny or whatever you prefer to be called.”

  His arms tightened around her, utter relief on his face as he pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Right now,” he rumbled in the deep voice she loved. “I just want to be called yours.”

  Tears collected in the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip. “You came back for me. You rescued me.”

  “Always, little mouse.” He reached up and slid a big hand into the back of her neck, tilting her chin up so she looked at him.

  “I will always come back for you, always rescue you. Always protect you. You are my heart and soul, and if you’ll have me, I’ll love you more each day until the day I die.”

  She nodded, a single tear of happiness streaking down the side of her face, which was smoothed over her skin by his thumb.

  “So what do we do to get your name changed to ‘mine’?” she whispered, savoring his grin as he leaned in.

  “You already did, but I’ll marry you again, just to make sure,” he promised.

  And then he kissed her, and all was right with her world. She’d thought she had nothing left to live for, but it turned out, she had everything…

  For the first time in her life, she knew she had a future.

  With her sexy alien mercenary.

  18

  “Are we all ready for this?” T’Raal asked, looking around the small group of males assembled in the orchard near Skinny’s family home. They were all dressed to the nines, even Sparky, who had been persuaded to comb his hair for once.

  “Relax, boss,” Skinny smiled, noticing T’Raal’s agitation. “It’s all good. They’ll be here… draanth, you’re more on edge here and I’m the one getting hitched!”

  “Yeah… yeah,” the big Warborne leader waved dismissively. “But I’m the one doing the ceremony, and if I don’t get to marry someone soon, I’m going to start shooting people.”

  “Awww… didn’t know you were such an old romantic, T!” Fin chuckled, earning himself a glare for using the nickname.

  “I’ll marry you, boss,” Sparky grinned, making kissy faces at the besuited warrior.

  “Fuck off, you little human shit,” T’Raal growled but there was no malice behind the sound. “I’d rather do your mom.”

  Both Fin’s and Beauty’s eyes widened, Zero and Tal just shaking their heads.

  Skinny chuckled. “Seriously, you should see his mom. She’s—”

 

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