Thomar
Varin agreed to stay behind and allow the doctor to run endless tests and scans. I, however, needed to see our mate, the instinct both intense and shocking.
Just a few days ago she did not exist to me. And now she was the only reason I cared whether I lived or died. The hours spent in her bed the most peaceful and consuming of my life. She was a gift, an unexpected and final blessing from this fucking shit universe. I’d been born cursed by blood and the sins on my family name. I’d done the one thing I knew how to do well, fight. Destroy. Kill.
The Arcas family had been known for thousands of years as ferocious, merciless warriors. Our bloodline was ancient and feared. Powerful.
Dishonored in the worst way imaginable, abuse of a female, of a treasured mate.
It made no difference that the male in question had been dead more than four hundred years, or that he’d lost his mind. He had betrayed the most sacred trust placed in warriors, protection of those weaker than ourselves. As a result, our family had been distrusted and scorned ever since, our place in the royal families denied all future generations. We could not challenge for the right of Prime, could never rule again.
I had hated the legacy my entire life, yet here I stood, causing my female pain, mental hurt. Anguish. And why? Because I was weak, too weak to walk away once I’d tasted her flesh. Too weak to give her up, to end her suffering, as I should.
I truly was an Arcas after all.
Standing near the edge of The Colony’s gardens, I leaned a shoulder against the wall and allowed the sight of my mate to fill me with contentment. She sat on a well-placed stone among the other females, surrounded by smiles and laughter and the squeals of happy children. The setting was one I had never thought to see again.
The surrounding foliage was unfamiliar. I assumed it had been brought from Earth at the females’ request. So much green. Too much. Green everywhere. Even the tall trees with their reasonable brown trunks were crowned in green leaves.
The females seemed content, their children running or crawling on a carpet of tiny green spikes that must be much softer than it looked, for even the babies rolled upon it without tears.
As I watched, the two little ones I remembered from the transport room ran to Danika, one at each knee, and proceeded to climb into her lap.
She froze and I felt the first stirrings of unease. Not mine. Hers.
“I CJ,” the little female said.
“RJ. I bigger,” her twin brother bragged. It was, indeed, true. RJ was quite obviously the son of an Atlan Warlord. A big fucker, too, based on the size of his children.
“Are not.”
“Am too.”
“No.”
“Am too. Duh.” RJ stuck out his tongue at his sister, who squeaked in annoyance.
There was that odd word again.
“Mommy! RJ said ‘duh.’”
“That’s enough, you two.” A human female I did not recognize ended the argument as quickly as it had begun, and the twins turned to my mate, their curious gazes locked on her face.
“What’s your name?” CJ asked.
“Danika.”
“Duh-Nika.” RJ muttered, trying it out on his tongue.
“No. No. No,” CJ corrected him, then laid her head on Danika’s shoulder and reached up blindly, feeling for Danika’s hair. Stroked the long strands that I knew, from personal experience, were the softest thing I had ever felt.
Danika’s entire body went rigid. Her face showed nothing as emotions exploded within her. Panic. Raw, uncontrollable panic flooded me through the collars.
I rushed toward my mate. Her face had lost all color, and she was fighting to draw air into her body. She gasped, rocked forward and back as if she were in pain.
As gently as I could, I lifted RJ from her lap and placed him on the ground. He raced back toward the female I assumed was his mother. The little girl clung, her fingers wrapped in Danika’s hair. Danika appeared to be calm on the outside, but I could feel the alarm in her mind. The anxiety crushing her chest.
“You must get down, little one,” I insisted in the softest tone I could manage. CJ burrowed closer, her fist tightening on Danika’s hair until removing it would cause my mate pain.