Jaro tried to keep her tucked behind him when they emerged from her abode, but of course, his warrior princess would have none of it and she stayed by his side. By all the stars in the galaxy, how he loved her courage.
It appeared, however, that their stealthy movement was for naught, though, as the clearing outside her home lit up, and he bit back a groan when he saw the thick ring of Zonians spread out in front of him. Talk about frukxed. If he killed them, Aylia would get mad. Yet, if he didn’t, they’d probably pulverize him.
A particularly nasty-looking Zonian with a pendulous breast and ferocious-looking yellow eyes stepped forward.
“Who are you, and what do you here?”
Jaro stood tall, and baring his teeth in a smile that scared more than one race, replied, “I am Jarokaluan, scourge of the galaxy, and first class warrior of Aressotle, and in the time honored tradition of my people, I’ve come to steal Aylia as my mate.”
An excited murmur arose. “That is not the Zonian way,” the birdlike speaker said.
“Only because your males are weak.” Jaro puffed up his chest and flexed. “I am not like them, and I have bested the warrior known as Aylia, and will fight any who think to take her from me.”
“Bested?”
He quickly regretted his choice of words when his fiery princess turned her glare onto him, and even more when her fist hit his diaphragm, making him almost gasp aloud.
“Are you so sure, Jarokaluan, that you are the victor?” smirked the Zonian.
“Fine. We are equals. Almost. But it doesn’t matter who is stronger, because I love Aylia, temper and all.”
Aylia’s face melted into a smile that would have seen him face a thousand Zonian warriors.
The beady eyed one narrowed her gaze. “Truly?”
“For now and ever.”
Disgusted snorts filled the clearing, and weapons shifted in restless claws. Jaro wondered how long before he’d die. He drew Aylia into his arms, determined to hug her one last time, though, before death.
A rope suddenly dropped from the sky in front of him along with a hollered, “Hold on tight, cousin. We’ve come to rescue you!”
Jaro wound the cord around his forearm while his other arm snaked around Aylia’s waist. But she’d already wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed a hold of the rope as well. They lifted in the sky while spears and knives whistled through the air around them.
“Nice family,” he said sarcastically.
His princess giggled, not at all concerned it seemed. “Oh please. They obviously approve or we’d have never left the ground.”
As if to reinforce that claim, Jaro heard the Zonian who’d addressed them yell, “If it’s a daughter, bring her back and I will train her myself. And take care of her, warrior, lest I hunt you down and rip your organs out one by one.”
“I love you too, Pantariste,” Aylia cried. “Say goodbye to my sisters.”
The air around them grew chill and the rain of weapons slowed, then stopped. The rope in his grip jerked as it got reeled in. Moments later, he and Aylia found themselves aboard the small lander from his ship.
The purple idiots grinned, quite pleased with themselves, and for once, Jaro couldn’t find fault, not with Aylia at his side for the rest of eternity.
As if sensing his regard, she turned to smile at him, and he hard Xarn groan. “Oh for frukx’s sake, they’re about to go at it again.”
They did, a quick bout where he held her up against the lander’s wall. Then again when they reached his quarters. And despite his claim he’d tie her up, he let her go first. Ah, the pleasurable sacrifices he made for love.