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SYNGE GLANCED AT THE late-afternoon sky and the dwindling sunlight. Darkness would descend soon, making visibility nearly impossible. His trip to the city had taken a lot longer than he’d expected. Guilt ate at him, and he regretted his decision to lock Ricka in the bedroom. He had hoped to make it up to her by giving her a tour of the property and helping her feel more comfortable with her new surroundings. Now the outing would have to wait until tomorrow.
The possibility of Molock tracking her down also weighed heavy on his mind. On occasion, creatures from the jungle ran into the perimeter barrier and caused issues with the field. Sometimes the interruption went unnoticed for several days. He needed to check the outlying security system and make sure everything was secure.
Anxious to check on Ricka, Synge left the transport and hurried into the dwelling. He intended to apologize for his irrational behavior and share the meager and less than hopeful news about her friend. He’d barely set his foot on the first step of the staircase when his aunt and uncle appeared in the foyer. “Nephew, we need to talk.”
He desperately wanted to see Ricka. “Can it wait?”
Teah crossed her arms. “No.”
She had never been one for conceding an argument. He’d known she’d be resistant to having a human staying in their home. She’d shocked him with how quickly she’d agreed to his demands and had planned to seek her out later to discuss it. Judging by her determined stance, the time had arrived. Exasperated, he groaned and followed Arno and Teah into the room his uncle now used to store his literary collection. As soon as he closed the door, Teah spun around and glared at him. “What really happened with the Klorthon?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your possessive nature with the human is not natural. You could have taken her with you today and left the responsibility for her care with the commander.” Teah placed a hand on his arm. “You have never shown enough interest in any woman to bring them to our home. Yet with this female, you choose to risk your welfare and ours to keep her safe. So, again I ask, what happened?”
Synge cringed, knowing it wasn’t fair to hide the truth any longer. “I invoked the rite of challenge.”
“You did what?” Astonishment crossed Arno’s features.
“I feared it might be the case.” Teah shook her head. “What you started with Molock has to be finished.”
“I am aware.” It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to bring Ricka here in the first place. His familiarity with the surrounding area was an advantage. He’d spent a large portion of his youth hunting on these lands and in the adjoining jungle. He rubbed the nearly healed wound beneath his shirt. Besides, he owed the warrior and longed for the opportunity to repay him.
“I am afraid it is only a small part of the ritual.” Her jaw tightened. “There is a reason our people no longer practice the rite. For the Klorthons, it is a way of life for dominance and status. It does not affect them the same way. For our males, it is much worse. If there is a woman involved, it stirs a fever to possess, to claim, to join.”
“As in taking a mate?” Fuck, how could I not have known?
“It is not so simple. This is not about sex. She must willingly offer you her body and her heart. It must be a true joining.”
Now I have a problem. Even though he’d begun to have feelings for Ricka, he doubted she would ever return them. She was angry about the deceitful way he’d gotten her here, and keeping her a prisoner had only made it worse. He didn’t think she’d be forgiving him anytime soon. There was no way she would trust him enough to allow herself to care about him. “What happens if she doesn’t?”
“Then the fever will consume you, and you will...” A tear trickled down Teah’s cheek, and she sobbed.
“Go insane, or die,” Arno said and pressed a comforting hand against the small of her back.
Synge pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the beginnings of a headache. “Is there no way to break the invocation?”
“I don’t think so,” Teah muttered.
“Wait, there might be.” Arno rushed over to one of the shelves. He ran his finger along the spine of several books, then slid out a thick volume with a worn leather covering. He set it on the desk and began sifting through the pages. “Yes. Here it is.”
For many years, Arno had been a professor at the city’s educational center. He had a penchant for obtaining information on the various animal species and alien races living in their quadrant. An impressive collection filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves on three of the room’s walls.
Synge hovered over his uncle’s shoulder, staring at the words printed in a language he couldn’t understand. “Can you read this?” What good would it do to find a solution and not know what it meant?
Arno ran his finger along the page. “It appears to be an old Tarron dialect. It is a little difficult, but I should be able to translate.”
Silent tension filled the room, and Teah impatiently tapped the desk.
“Not helping, my love,” Arno said, his concentration never leaving the book.
She removed her hand. “Sorry.”
Minutes passed before Arno spoke again. “It says here once blood has been spilled, the fever begins in both the male and female. For the man, it is more noticeable, with excessive protective urges and the need to keep other males away from her.”
Arno stopped reading, his expression serious. “It is in our nature to dominate and take control, especially if the female involved is a true mate. If the fever becomes unbearable, the male will do anything to claim or bond with the female.” His uncle sounded as if he were speaking from experience.
Is Ricka my destined mate? Was it the reason no other woman had enticed him so completely before?
“Since Molock still lives, is it possible the rite has not been fully invoked?” Synge asked.
“Was there any blood drawn during your altercation?”
“Yes.” Synge rubbed his side again.
“Then I am afraid the answer is no. By the vigilant way you refuse to be separated from her, I had already assumed as much.”
“Ricka is human. Does this mean she will also be affected by the fever?” By trying to save her, had he inadvertently doomed her to a similar fate?
Arno peered at the page. “It does not clarify. It is possible she will be free from the effects, though I would not want to risk it.”
“What if I claim a future joining? Would it fulfill the demands of the ritual?” He wouldn’t need Ricka’s permission for a proclamation, and it would prevent the colony’s interference. It would also give him more time to persuade her to stay.
Arno flipped the page and continued reading. Finally, he lifted his head, furrowing his brow.
“What does it say?”
“No, but there is a way to reverse the process.”
“How?” Synge and Teah asked at the same time.
Arno ran a finger over the page and recited the words. “If a male and female are devoted to each other, share the bond of love, then they must share in the physical act of joining, each speaking the words of belonging to one another. Afterward, they must enter one of the sacred pools together, thus performing the final part of a true joining, which also cures the fever brought on by the invocation.”
Synge was already aware of the process for bonding. It was the way of his people. Before his parents were taken from him, his father had taken him hunting and showed him the location of the pools. He’d shared the tale of his relentless pursuit of his mother, and how he’d finally been able to get her to enter the water and profess her love. As a child, it had been one of Synge’s favorite stories.
When his father had been killed during a mission, it had torn his mother apart. Three years later, she’d literally died from a broken heart. It was the reason he avoided relationships and never pursued finding a partner.
“The ritual is common knowledge. How do we reverse it?” Teah asked.
Arno frowned at his wife’s impatience. “If the couple shares physical pleasures and no words of binding are spoken, then the rite can be broken. The couple must willingly enter the sacred pool, then both speak the words to renounce the other. This is the only way to break the invocation and cause the special elixirs in the water to cure their fever.”
“Have you shared sex with the female yet?” Arno asked.
Synge flinched. “That is none of your business.” Definitely not a topic for discussion.
His uncle cleared his throat. “Do not take offense, nephew. I only ask because it is also a way of keeping the fever from becoming all-consuming.”
“How do you know?” Synge snarled.
Arno averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “It is mentioned in the passage, and you do not appear to be losing control yet.”
His uncle had no idea the restraint he was exerting not to go upstairs and take Ricka to his bed again.
“You have not claimed her, then?” Teah asked.
“No.”
“Then you must go immediately and discuss this with your human female. Take her to the waters as soon as possible so you can both renounce the joining and be freed from the fever,” Teah insisted.
There was a pool in the jungle not far from the landing area on the southern part of the property. He’d passed by the sacred waters many times, though he’d never thought he’d have to use it for anything other than a joining.
Ricka wanted to return to the colony, so Synge was certain convincing her to participate in breaking the invocation would take little effort. He swallowed against the tightness constricting his throat. Would she gladly rush to the pool to sever their tie? The idea of her rejection left a heavy lump in his gut.
#
SYNGE WALKED OUT OF the room and heard loud thumping and bellows coming from the upper level. Over the years, he’d learned to distinguish between the different noises his pet made. Mogran was definitely upset about something. Had something happened to Ricka? A heavy weight settled in his chest as he took the stairs two at a time. He unlocked the door and shoved it open, then was nearly knocked down when Mogran rushed from the bedroom. There was no sign of Ricka anywhere, not even in the adjacent bathroom.
Panic ripped through him. Where was she? Long claw marks scoring the wall near the window frame drew his attention. Had the Klorthons managed to breach the property’s perimeter security? It wasn’t possible, not without sounding alarms and alerting his aunt and uncle. He examined the window. None of the glass was broken and the lock had been released from the inside. He noticed the large tree outside and immediately knew what had happened. Ricka had found a way to escape. “Damn stubborn woman.”
Teah shouted, “Synge, get down here. Something is wrong with Mogran. He is upset and scratching the front door.”
He hurried to the lower level and found the cat pacing back and forth in the foyer. Its agitated state combined with loud hisses and snorts had Arno and Teah backing away from the animal.
Synge eased forward slowly. “Easy, boy.” Mogran stopped moving and whimpered, then pawed at the front door.
“What is the matter with him?” Teah asked.
He glanced at his aunt. “I think he is trying to find Ricka. She is not in her room. I believe she climbed down the tree.”
“What? How can that be?” Teah asked. “She was there earlier when I brought her clothing.”
“How long ago did you see her?”
She glanced at Arno. “Shortly after you left. She said she was tired and wanted to sleep, so we chose not to disturb her.”
Synge had underestimated Ricka’s determination and cursed his own stupidity. He should have known she would find a way to leave and gone with his original plan to cuff her to the bed. The jungle areas were dangerous, especially for someone who knew nothing about his planet. There were many poisonous plants and smaller creatures that could pose a threat. Thankfully, she couldn’t get outside the perimeter of his property, where the larger beasts roamed. Deadly beasts ready to make her their next meal.
He slammed his hand to the sensor, and the door opened. Mogran rushed outside, heading toward the side of the house. Synge raced after him with his aunt and uncle trailing behind him. The cat frantically sniffed the ground around the tree. He stopped to hover over a specific area, then threw back his head and howled.
“What is it boy?” Synge stroked his fur and knelt next to him to study the ground. There were splotches of red on several of the gray border stones. He lowered his head and inhaled. Ricka’s scent was everywhere, mingled with the smell of blood. “She injured herself.”
“I am so sorry.” Teah twisted her hands together. “When you called to say you were running late, I should have checked on her again.”
He pulled the older woman into a hug. “The fault belongs to me, not you. I am the one who brought her here. She was my responsibility, and I should never have left her alone.” He took a step back and placed a comforting hand against his aunt’s cheek. “Do not worry. I will find her.”
The other conveyor was still sitting in front of their home, which meant Ricka had taken off on foot and was probably heading for his ship. Her injury would make it easier to track her, though he feared he would not be the only one following her. Some of the smaller creatures living on his property would also scent her blood.
“Do you want us to help with the search?” Arno asked.
“No. Stay here and watch over Teah. I will take Mogran with me.”
“Understood.”
Synge patted the cat’s head. “Find Ricka.”
The animal growled and took off running.
“Please be careful,” Teah said.
“I will.” He nodded at Arno and headed for his transport.
#
ONCE SYNGE RETURNED from the city, she was certain it wouldn’t take him long to figure out where she was going. Ricka should have stayed on the main road leading to the landing pad and taken her chances. A mistake she’d realized too late. As the day progressed, the wooded area had grown thicker, blocking out some of the sunlight and preventing her from seeing clearly. Now with the growing darkness, she was turned around and completely lost.
Coming from a planet with limited plant life hadn’t prepared her for traipsing through a jungle. Many of the trees had long vines circling their trunks and snaking along the ground. She was pretty sure some of the long rope things weren’t vines. Vines didn’t move by themselves, did they? The air grew chillier, and she wished for something to cover her partially bare arms.
She tripped for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What was I thinking?” she muttered out loud. Her decision to leave the bedroom had been a huge mistake, one she deeply regretted. She should have trusted Synge. He’d locked her up to protect her and was doing everything he could to find Libby. Too bad she’d let her anger cloud her judgment.
Snorting noises startled her. What was that? She jerked her head to the left. Her foot caught on a root, and she plummeted forward, hitting the ground on her hands and knees. Pain shot across her injured palm and radiated along her wrist. “Shit.” She rolled to sit on her ass and examine her hand. The material she’d used to cover the cut was now wet and blotched with red.
Scrambling to her feet, she scanned the area, trying to get her bearings again. The sounds turned into a loud shrill. Standing several feet away was a large creature resembling an Earth buffalo. Tufts matted its white fur, and beady black eyes ringed with dark crimson stared at her. Sharp teeth filled the thing’s wide, gaping mouth and two really large incisors rested along the outside of a pointed jaw.
Ricka froze, unable to stop staring at the strange creature. The thing could easily overtake her if she ran. Thoughts of being ravaged by those long teeth sprang through her mind. She was going to die if she didn’t think of something, and quick. Glimpsing the tall tree standing a few feet beside her, she noted the thick orange vines entangled around its trunk. If she made it to the tree before the beast pounced, she might be able to get up high enough to avoid its reach—provided the vines held out and the damned thing couldn’t climb.
She’d get only one chance at this, so she needed to make her movements count. Surveying the area near her feet, she checked to make sure there wasn’t anything to trip her. The beast snorted. It pawed the ground with its front hoof and lowered its head as if it planned to charge. Ricka screamed and lunged for the tree. Her fingers curled around the vine. It moved a little but held her weight. She hoisted herself off the ground seconds before the creature’s head slammed into the base of the smooth trunk.
The thing snarled, its jaw snapping shut inches from her feet. Move. Reaching higher, she gripped another vine. This one was coated with moisture, and her hand slipped. She reached for a branch and lost her foothold. She slid along the tree, the front of her chest and the undersides of her arms badly scraped before she landed in the dirt.
Groaning, she flipped around and landed on her already bruised ass. The creature had backed away, ready to rush at her again. Something sailed through the shadows and landed in front of her. Mogran raised his head and roared so loud, it hurt her ears. The thing squealed, spun around, and ran. The cat didn’t hesitate to give chase. He sprang through the air and landed on the creature’s back.
Mogran sank his teeth into the beast’s neck, forcing it to its knees. The creature bucked and thrashed, trying to dislodge the cat. Its pained wail sounded like a high-pitched whistle. The cat clawed at the thing’s back and clamped his teeth tighter. Cracking bone, Mogran snapped the creature’s neck, and it collapsed.
Mogran released his hold and walked over to her. He ran his nose along the length of her body, then nuzzled her chest with his head. Tears of relief slid down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and scratched the fur behind his long ears. “Thanks, big boy. You saved my life.” She released his head. “How did you get out of the room?”
His chest rumbled, and he sprawled on the ground next to her, then used his tongue to clean the blood from his giant paws. Synge burst through the trees a few seconds later, armed with his repeater, prepared for battle. He came for me. He still wore his uniform, and it warmed her to know he hadn’t taken time to change before coming to find her.
His gaze landed on the beast’s body first, then turned to her. She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life, even if his scowl told her he was madder than hell. She forced her trembling legs to move, using the tree to help her stand.
Synge holstered the repeater and pulled her into his arms, hugging her so tight, she could hardly breathe. “Dammit, you could have been killed.”
The shock of nearly being torn to shreds was still too strong, and she refused to let him go. He was here. She was alive. Nothing else mattered. “I’m fine.” Thanks to Mogran.
He stepped back and ran his hands over her, inspecting her body. “You are not fine. You are injured. I found blood earlier, and I can smell it on you now. It is how the bimmaton found you.”
He can smell my blood too? She’d forgotten his earlier remark about being able to scent her arousal. “The what?” Her parched throat made talking more difficult, and she squeaked out the words.
He tipped his head in the direction of the carcass. “It is a bimmaton. Very deadly.”
His concerned expression stopped her from making a sarcastic comment about pointing out the obvious. He took her hand and turned it over to inspect her palm, noting the bloodied condition of her makeshift bandage. “We need to get this cleaned up and cannot stay here.” He bent forward and scooped her into his arms.
Surprised, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can walk.”
He ignored her by tightening his grip. “Mogran, come.”
Thankful to be alive and too tired to argue, she snuggled her head against his chest.
