Alien Warrior's Mate (Brion Brides 1)(12)

The last thing I need, she thought, more amused than mad. If I start thinking of him and battle in the same way I’ll lose my mind.

She laughed off the thought. If Darien got even a whiff of that parallel, he’d never let her live it down.

As the dummies lessened, the trouble in her mind did as well. So yes, the whole situation was a bit weird. Darien wasn’t the first warrior with whom she’d shared the heart of battle passion, and he possibly wouldn’t be the last. The only thing odd about the affair was that her desire for him didn’t go out of the door with the object of it. And it felt different too. But with nothing to do about it, there was no need to worry over it. The Brions didn’t think much about the possibilities to change something. They accepted the way things were. Even if reluctantly.

Fate would bring her someone good, she knew that. At least, she had to hope that. Maybe someone less infuriating.

Or not. Fate seemed intent on mocking her the next day when the commander summoned them for another attack. It seemed a few of the champions had had the wisdom to hide from the initial battle after all. Not enough to remain hidden while the skies were still packed with Brion warships.

Not that it mattered. Their location was pinned and the Triumphant was ready to send its best down to Antaris’ cold, cruel surface again.

Deliya was proud to be considered one of the best. She wasn’t surprised in the least Darien was present as well, greeting her with that familiar smirk. Sighing, Deliya sent a questioning look to the stars, to the unknown direction of fate. If they were not meant to be, did she have to see him all the time?

Darien, at least, seemed perfectly joyful. He took a seat next to Deliya as soon as the boarding began, the very image of expectation.

“I woke up this morning,” he began conversationally, brushing their shoulders together completely not accidentally, “feeling truly warm for the first time since we left Antaris. But, you know, warmth and peace don’t suit us. So I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if there was a battle where I really belong?”

Despite herself, Deliya found herself smiling, simply enjoying his company. She wanted to stay mad at herself, or him, or the fates for dangling him before her and then snatching him away, but she couldn’t. He was just so damn… him. And the fates were the fates and she would simply have to trust them to work their magic.

“So this serves me right, absolutely,” Darien said, giving her his best smirk. “More snow. More Antanaris. Treacherous chasms, impossibly slippery ice – what more could we want?”

“We’re Brions,” Deliya said, teasing.

“I know,” Darien said, making a show of being hurt. “I’m not joking. Why does everyone always think I am? I’m genuinely glad for all that.”

She laughed. It seemed like the most natural thing to do.

The shuttle took off with them, bringing them down to Antaris once more. Battle was beating in her blood again, readying her body for the upcoming fight. Beside her, Darien’s eyes were burning, looking at her.

“Don’t worry, my star,” he said. “Fate will simply have to catch up with us. And I will make sure it will.”

It was a promise. A promise Deliya was sure he and the fates would keep. When she descended into battle, her mind was as calm as it had ever been in the midst of war. The fates would keep her safe. And if the fates slipped, Darien would be right there to catch her.





CHAPTER ELEVEN

Darien



Nothing ever remained peaceful in the life of a Brion. Darien was fine with that. Who needed the world to be in the same place every morning? It was so much more fun to wake up from a very pleasant dream – of the impossible woman who he desperately wanted to share his bed with – and find everyone running around with their hair on fire. Well, not literally, although that would have been amusing too. Especially from his, currently rather morbid viewing spot.

Darien wasn't afraid of many things, as befit a Brion warrior. In fact, there were only two distinct things that instilled him with dread. First and foremost - Deliya showing up at his door, telling him she belonged to someone else. If gods were good, that would never happen. If they weren't, Darien was willing to make them answer for their transgressions holding them at his spear point.

was And secondly - disappointing his commander. Given that the Triumphant was clearly on warpath meant he probably shouldn't have slept in. His com link was beeping, silenced. Darien had been adopting Deliya's method of trying to cope with the fact that fate had lost them in whatever ethereal paperwork they had going on and decided to make their lives rather more like eternal damnation rather than lifelong bliss.#p#分页标题#e#

It meant training until he bled and then sleeping until the next workout, only to do it all over again. It had worked fine for them for months now. Deliya had her duties, very important ones as she gained the commander's trust as she deserved. And he had his.

He'd silenced his com link, hoping to get some rest for the thorough beating he intended to take the next day. Of course, his commander could have overridden the program very easily, but it was rare that he exercise that possibility. There were other warriors on the ship who didn't exactly drop their spears on their foot either, so it wasn't like Darien was an essential part to untangling whatever mess they were in. Though of course Darien himself liked to think, and hope, that the opposite was true.

That meant, however, that there were 11 messages calling him to board the drop pods when he finally deemed it time to open his eyes. Diego Grothan had a horribly morbid sense of humor, Darien knew. He was in so much trouble.

He caught the next drop pod to the surface of Exolar. The emptiness of the bay and the looks he drew as the commander's chosen still aboard the Triumphant was punishment enough. The commander rarely needed to exercise any true form of discipline. Showing up late to a battle was a mortifying experience no one ever repeated.

Gods. What is that woman doing to me.

Darien felt he wasn't completely at fault. When he'd gone to sleep, they were in deep space with nothing anywhere near them that wanted to draw the attention of their commander. Apparently Exolar had outdone itself somehow. Darien promised he'd find out later, although in reality it didn't take much to piss off a Brion warship.

He sneaked out of the drop pod, thinking of joining the battle where it was fiercest and working as hard as he could to redeem himself. But naturally, with the eerie gift he had of always being where someone was trying to actively avoid him, Diego Grothan stood right in Darien’s way. Covered with blood that was already drying, signaling the time he'd already spent in battle. His spear looked ragged too, as if it had had a decent workout.

"General," Darien began, knowing it was futile.

His commander graced him with the kind of smile one usually saw on predators right before their next meal.

"Darien," he said. "It's good of you to join us, at your leisure. I hope it's not too much to ask that you join us in the last hours of this campaign."

Ah, well. Darien wasn't one of Diego Grothan's chosen by chance or by not knowing how to deal with his general. Backing down wasn't a Brion trait.

"You could have woken me, general," he said defiantly. "And yes, of course I will do as you command."

"I could have," the commander admitted with a feral grin. "But I thought this was much more fun."

And they say I have a terrible sense of humor.

"Not to mention you might find it hard to believe, but I manage to wage war without you," his commander went on, making Darien groan.

"Alright, alright," he said. "You made your point. Can I go kill something now? You can punish me later."

Diego Grothan just laughed.

"I will punish you when I feel like it. For example, right now. Go and find Deliya, all clean and rested as you are, after she's been fighting for hours now."

Darien went, reveling in the fresh piece of eternal damnation that had just been afforded to him.



At least he'd quickly read up on Exolar on his way down to the planet. The Exolar were stubborn bastards, not unlike the Brions. They were having some petty dispute with the Galactic union  , one they didn't apparently mind taking up weapons for. If they were willing to go against Brions, the issue might not have been so petty after all.

They looked like the Brions did too, mostly. The blueish tone of their skin was the only difference that was visible, though there were also rumors of telepathy. Darien was fine with either. They spoke one of the main languages, which meant he could shout threats at them, or they could pick them from his head. Just as well. Insults would be hurled one way or the other.

He was still thinking of what else the commander might have in store for him, stalking through the remnants of a gruesome battleground, when he found Deliya. She was driving a group of Exolar out of their hiding behind a crooked, crumbling building, when one of them managed to trip her on the rubble. His distraction almost cost him her life.

How very foolish of him. A warrior never dropped his guard, even if the battle seemed to be mostly done. Weapons didn't get less deadly as the battle progressed. On the contrary, the closer the end, the more desperate the enemy was bound to be.#p#分页标题#e#