Mating Fever(24)

The bodies were gone, Hive drones having recovered them in the night. The ravine was empty as we made our way down the cliff wall and onto the ground. Nyko went first, practically caging me with his body until I told him to give me some damn room. He didn’t relax until we were on the ground. We wore our helmets, weapons raised. Ready. He was in beast mode again and I didn’t argue or ask why. He was huge and I’d given up on conversation with him. He was monosyllabic at best. I worried since his beast should not be out. He was not mating or in combat. He should have been a man, but I’d heard rumors, stories of Atlans with Mating Fever who did not recover. Who stayed in beast mode and lost their minds and control. They were executed, like rabid dogs at the pound, and I did not want that for him.

But I could do nothing to help here other than fucking him, if needed, until his beast was soothed. If he truly did have Mating Fever, he would not be cured until he fucked his true mate, put mating cuffs about both their wrists and gave his beast to her. He needed to claim his true mate to be safe. And that wasn’t me.

Still, for the first time since I’d joined the Coalition Fleet, walking beside Nyko, I felt safe. Even now, walking through enemy territory.

Which was a cruel joke. Because for the first time since my dad died, my heart was breaking into tiny little pieces. I never should have touched him. Never should have let him touch me. It would have been better just to have him drive me crazy with his bossy ways, his disagreeing with everything I said or did. Now, I knew what it felt like to have him inside me, touching me, fucking me. Making me gasp with lust and want and pleasure.

As we used our sensors and discovered the hundreds of Hive that had descended on the battle the night before were now gone, I knew I was in deep emotional shit. I was sore. I wouldn’t be forgetting what we’d done for days. My muscles ached and my clit still tingled and throbbed for more. Despite the stern lecture I gave myself, I couldn’t tear my gaze from his shoulders, his muscled thighs, his ass. I still wanted him. Even worse, I wanted him to take care of me, protect me, turn all that big, bossy aggression toward watching over me, loving me.

God, my mother would be screeching to the heavens about weak-willed sluts and stupidity. Nyko made me stupid. No other man had ever managed that. But no matter how much I tried to ignore the longing coursing through me, it was too late. The cat was out of the bag, people. Now that I’d had a taste, I wanted more. More. More.

I kept leaning forward, trying to draw the scent of his skin into my lungs. We walked for several hours, never stopping, never slowing our pace. I was in good shape, but my head seemed to grow worse with each step. Pain pulsed through my skull with each hard strike of my boots on rock, each beat of my heart. Through it all, I followed him. I didn’t pay attention to our surroundings. I couldn’t. I was in too much pain. But I could follow him. Somehow, I felt like I could follow him anywhere. I let him worry about watching for the enemy, and I focused all of my attention on watching him.

I was turning into a crazy person. This obsession I felt toward him now, the possessive, needy, feminine lust? Total trouble. Since only his mate would be able to save him from his intensifying Mating Fever, one night with Nyko was going to have to last me a lifetime, and I was afraid it wasn’t going to be enough. But it would have to be.

And Nyko? I doubted he’d summoned an Interstellar Bride. If he had, if he was ready to take a mate, he wouldn’t be here with me right now on this shit-hole planet. He wasn’t ready, and I was one simple swipe of Doctor Moor’s finger away from having a mate of my own. An Atlan, from what the doc had said. An Atlan that wasn’t Nyko.

That thought made my eyes ache and burn with unshed tears. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I hormonal? Exhausted? Was this thing in my head going to make me lose my mind before it killed me?

We reached the transport station just as the planet’s brightest star reached its zenith. It was hot, so hot the cooling system in my uniform couldn’t keep up. Sweat streamed down my temples and leaked into my eyes, making them sting beneath the helmet where I couldn’t reach in to wipe them away.

At least two dozen Coalition warriors had set up a defensible perimeter around the transport pad, and Nyko marched us straight up into its center.

He turned to me then, as he’d done many times over the last few miles, making sure I was with him.

With a grunt, he settled his heavy hand on my shoulder and watched me as the transport began. Moving through space this way was harsh, a slicing cold pain twisting my body into a contortionist’s box before putting me back to rights somewhere else.