Alien Warrior's Mate: Sci-fi Alien Military Romance (Brion Brides Book 1) (8 page)

“No,” he said. “But…”

Now Urenya looked up, giving him her entire focus. For some reason, that was eerie. Urenya was famous for almost always knowing something so deep about a person they themselves didn’t even know it yet. Being under her scrutiny was somehow more terrifying than facing a powerful enemy.

“There are usually no ‘but’s with a binding,” the healer said.

“I know,” Darien said.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Deliya and I seem to fit together so perfectly, everything just feels natural. Talking to her, being with her, fighting beside her… And when I’m away from her, I feel empty. Incomplete, somehow. Tell me those aren’t the signs of a fated.”

“They are,” Urenya agreed.

“But I didn’t have the moment. I hoped when we fought together, when I saw her in danger it might provoke the bond to happen.”

Urenya frowned. “Many men have tried that. That’s just wishful thinking.”

“But it has worked, hasn’t it?”

“On occasions. Not a rule,” Urenya said. “Why are you so sure it’s her?”

“I…” Darien hesitated.

“Everything I’ve ever read or heard about the binding. They were all just words to me until I met Deliya. Then I suddenly understood, but the thing itself didn’t happen. I don’t understand.”

Urenya said nothing for a long moment.

“The timing is not always right,” she said at last.

“What do you mean?” Darien asked.

“We think the binding usually happens as soon as the
gerion
sees the
gesha
. That’s not always so. Fate has its plans and they are a mystery to us. Sometimes the people who end up together have to grow a bit as individuals before, or one of them has to do something alone before the bond could work. They aren’t many, but there are occasions where people who’ve known each other for years suddenly bond. That is all I can give you.”

It felt like a weight off his heart. It wasn’t entirely impossible that Deliya was meant for him. It might have been that fate simply hadn’t gotten to them yet.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Be careful,” Urenya said.

“Don’t confuse hope for the real thing.”

He took a deep breath.

“You know these things better than anyone. Do you think I’m wrong to trust this?”

Don’t say yes.

Urenya snorted.

“No,” she said, smiling, “I don’t.”

Darien left breathing anew. It was not in a Brion’s nature to brood and despair. In hindsight, he thought, maybe he wouldn’t have liked an answer to fix everything with a word. Deliya was a proud, strong, irresistibly beautiful warrior. Did he expect to have her served to him on a platter?

No. Like all Brions, he wanted a fight. He would get what fate had in store for him one way or another. In the meanwhile, he could tease, and fight with, and dream of Deliya. Possibly even share her bed again. In his heart, he was certain. If all he had to do was wait, then… well, it would be terrible because he wasn’t patient by character, but he’d do it.

It was the Brion way, after all. Nothing worth having ever came easily. And he was more than ready to go and get his impossible woman.

CHAPTER TEN

Deliya

There
, Deliya thought.

It had happened. She’d had him and he’d left. Just like she’d feared.

Her room still smelled like him. In her distress, that somehow seemed like the worst possible thing. It was her room, her sanctuary, and now it was infested with the thing that was bothering her. On the other hand, she didn’t want the smell to ever leave her room. Wanted it to be there, with him preferably right along with it.

She did what usually helped when something was wrong. Carefully and meticulously, she set about her duties. For now, that included getting her gear back in order. Then she could figure out how to mend her heart after what should have been a nice, easy tryst after a good battle.

She cleaned the blade of her spear and placed it into its place on the wall and fastened her armor beside it, after cleaning and repairing the damage done to the plates. Then she polished the blade again, just so she would have something to do. Whatever she did, wherever she looked, still he seemed to be there in the room, as though he’d never truly left. If that was how it was going to be, it was bound to be a nightmare.

Wherever she looked, she could see an echo of him. Of his hands on her body, of his lips on hers or whispering words she thought would never affect her. Deliya’s hands hurt with the knowledge that she couldn’t hold him like she wanted to. The whole thing made her feel rather silly. Physical attraction was a normal thing in Brion culture, but never had a man gotten quite so thoroughly under her skin as Darien had. And even more worryingly, she didn’t want to get rid of that feeling of wanting him, of
needing
him.

At some point, she had some in-ship duties and those were a small blessing. Overall, it was downtime for them. Antaris was being handed over to the Union as a sign that the Brions weren’t as savage and uncivilized as the Antanaris, and it took time for Briolina’s senators to announce where the
Triumphant
was heading next. So for the time being, they waited, healing their wounds and stocking up. It was the worst, in Deliya’s opinion, when action and tasks were what she desperately needed to keep her mind off of a certain someone.

Ultimately, Brion spirit took over. When in trouble or emotional turmoil, they found the first possible fight or simply looked for something to hack to pieces. Hoping against hope, Deliya put her faith in the fact that punching something would clear her head. It would have to, because nothing else was and she couldn’t just go back to Darien. She had to be bigger than that… didn’t she?

For a lack of ongoing fights, Deliya had to opt for the second option. The
Triumphant
was equipped to the teeth with every imaginable battle simulator the Brions could get their hands on, so all she had to do was pick one. Deliya marched into the training area like she owned the place, her eyes staring steadfastly forward and ignoring any distraction. She could take a breath only when she saw that Darien had not used the same tactic to relieve his troubled mind.

She picked a training dummy and set up the simulation, making sure that the options she chose would be sure to leave her hurting if she got even one move wrong. Deliya wanted to feel it deep in her bones, at her very core. Training was the only thing she could think of that could take her mind off of Darien for more than a few fleeting seconds and she needed every damn moment she could get at this point.

Taking a deep breath, she signaled the simulation to start. Immediately, the floor beneath her wobbled and opened up into a deep shaft, which she only avoided by a fraction of an inch by jumping to the side. Her heart rate rose and she opened her eyes as the first dummy came for her, swinging its heavy mechanical arms and making her duck and weave between punches. She brought it down by crouching low and catching it in its legs before it could react, swiftly spinning around and flipping back out of its range as it fell, arms still flailing.

Deliya grinned to herself as a laser shot whizzed over her head, making her hair billow a little. This was what she needed. More robotic opponents came for her, determined to make her feel even better. Moving between the dummies and dodging laser bullets, the AI measuring the damage she would have taken in actual combat, she felt herself coming alive again. Like her lungs could open again and her heart could beat, though perhaps not as quickly as she would have preferred it.

Being naturally optimistic, nothing brought her down for too long. There was no room for depression or moping about if one was a warrior on the
Triumphant,
but as much as she would have wanted to just shed everything that had happened with Darien like a bad dream, she couldn’t. He had gotten deep and she wasn’t sure if any amount of battle, training or excitement could make her whole again the same way that his touch could. And that had her worried.

The problem with the exertion and the battle hormones running wild in her body again was that all of them dragged her mind back to Darien.

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.

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.