Lord of Capra (23 page)

“I won’t let him
kill this warrior.”

“He’ll want to die
as a warrior!” Jarrok countered.

Attor trembled
involuntarily and a harsh painful moan escaped his lips as he gasped for air.

“I won’t let him
die!” She growled at Jarrok, baring her fangs. “He’s too young! If he wants to
die tomorrow, then fine, but he won’t die today, not when I can heal him.”

“Jarrok, she’s
determined to help him.”

The warrior looked
back and forth between them. He seemed to come to a decision and once again
withdrew his arm blades, although he didn’t return his dagger to its sheath.

He focused on
Evana. “How can you help him when his neck is broken?”

“He must drink a
small amount of my blood, but he’s stubborn.”

“We don’t exchange
blood oaths with females.”

Drake thought
Jarrok’s voice matched the younger warrior’s visible outrage at such a
suggestion. It was no wonder Attor had refused. Taking a female’s blood must be
very taboo for them.

“I wasn’t offering
to exchange oaths!” his mate shot back.

“Evana!” Drake had
to get her attention. He hoped to diffuse the situation before Attor drew his
last breath.

Now that his lovely
mate glared at him instead of the warrior, he looked away and offered Jarrok a
compromise. “Could Attor accept my consort’s blood as a gift, freely given with
no oaths or vows attached?”

“Not with females.
It’s a custom for males only.” Jarrok shook his head in exasperation. “What
does it matter? How can your blood help him? Our own physicians can’t cure
this.”

Drake began to
think the situation was hopeless, but to convince Evana to back down was
certainly going to be a problem. He’d never seen her so determined.

And he also
couldn’t believe it was possible for him to love her any more than he did right
then, but he did. Something about seeing this protective side of her perhaps,
or how she stood up to the warrior like a mother bear defending her cubs. His
mate was exquisite, and he loved her more than life itself.

To his amazement,
Evana sank onto the ground beside Attor. A small sigh of resignation sprang
from her lips, surprising him that she’d given in to the warrior’s refusal. She
stroked a hand over Attor’s brow, and the dying male opened his eyes. His pain-filled
gaze seemed to implore her to allow Jarrok to help him. Evana nodded,
increasing Drake’s amazement. Was she really giving up?

She looked at
Jarrok, “We have a custom also. When the strongest warrior falls in battle, he’s
always given a gift. It’s a great honor, and if he’s truly brave, he’ll
survive.”

“What is this gift?”
Jarrok asked before Drake could.

Her eyes glowed a
brilliant green as she explained. “Through me, the goddess can bestow the Breath
of Life
.
If you won’t allow me to give Attor my blood, then let me give
him this gift. Perhaps he’ll live.”

Drake bit his
tongue, drawing his own blood as he choked back a curse. He could just imagine
what this Breath of Life really was. His jealousy surged within him,
threatening to consume him. Attor was most likely doomed. If Jarrok didn’t stab
him to death, then he would immediately after Evana cured him with her gift.

Jarrok snorted in
disbelief, but he nodded indulgently. He waved his hand toward the prone
warrior. “Then let your deity heal him.”

“Evana.” Drake
managed to speak her name softly when all he really wanted to do was shout an
angry curse and grab her away from the wounded male. “Not the Breath of Life,” he
whispered, desperate to change her mind. “I don’t think I can withstand that
and not kill—”

His mate gazed at
him with tear-filled eyes, silently pleading for his understanding. “He’s
defenseless and dying. If you can allow that, then tell me to stop or help me.”

Caught between his
desire to help her and his raging jealousy toward the fallen warrior, Drake
stared at her. Feeling more helpless than ever, he sighed in defeat. “What can
I do?”

“I’d prefer that
Attor doesn’t wrap his sharp arms around me. Restrain him if he begins to heal
before I’m done delivering my gift.” She winked at him.

“You’re wicked.”
Drake growled between clenched teeth.

Evana cupped the
warrior’s face with her palms and bent over, pressing her lips against his
lightly. She whispered, “Give me your breath, Attor.”

The tight-lipped
warrior’s mouth opened a fraction. His eyes opened wider in surprise as she
kissed him. Her lips slid over his, slowly luring him.

Attor closed his
eyes, and Evana deepened her kiss. A howl of protest rose within Drake’s chest
at the sight. He fought the burning desire to rip her away from the male who
enjoyed her.
Mine.
The urge to claim her was almost more than he could
endure.

He tried to
distract himself by watching the warrior’s body for any hint of movement. All
the while, he wondered if Nemesis might remove him from the planet. He decided
it’d be a good idea for her to take him, immediately.

It took only a few
fleeting seconds for her to pass along her gift, but they seemed like hours of
pure agony for him. After she pulled away from the warrior and he saw the look
of pure lust in Attor’s expression, Drake prayed for Nemesis to rescue him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Breathe warrior
and live,” Evana whispered to Attor.

The look of wonder
on his face was almost comical, but the obvious desire in his gaze amused her
the most. Attor wanted more of her gift. If it weren’t for the fact her mate
seemed ready to explode, she would’ve laughed out loud.

Attor blinked once,
drew in a deep breath and then another. Just when she thought he might try to
speak, his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. At least he breathed
easier now.

Just as well. She
was a little exasperated with the young warrior, but couldn’t really blame him.
His mouth wasn’t as untrained as his partner had indicated. The oversized ass
had slipped her his tongue while she’d delivered her gift.
Oaf.

Secretly, she’d
slit hers with a fang tip just deeply enough to deliver several drops of blood
to him. After he recovered, he might suspect what she’d done, but he’d never
know for sure.

Evana noticed
Jarrok’s presence. The warrior knelt beside Attor. She was relieved to see his
dagger safely tucked inside its sheath. He muttered something about demons and
magic.

She leaned closer
to her mate and settled against his solid form. His body was still stiff with
rage. In an effort to diffuse his anger, she wrapped her arm around his waist
and clung to him.

“He’ll live,” she
said softly, lifting her face in an effort to catch Drake’s attention.

Her mate ignored
her and kept his focus on Jarrok. “Perhaps you won’t dine on your liver, after
all,” Drake told him.

Jarrok grunted. “Only
if he recovers. Attor’s mother is one of the royals.” The giant nodded his head
a few times. “She’s…protective. Like your female.”

Drake grunted. He relaxed,
releasing some of his rage.

“When our bred
females act the way yours does,” Jarrok continued, “they always carry a
warrior. Your son will be a strong one.”

Evana ignored
Jarrok while she tightened her grip on her mate’s waist. Still gazing at him,
she said, “A son!” He glanced at her and gave her a halfhearted grin before
returning his attention to the warrior.

“Your chest
markings are different. What do they signify?”

She sensed her mate
was overcoming his jealous anger when he asked questions of Jarrok. Drake’s curiosity
knew no bounds.

The warrior
laughed. Evana thought it was a likeable sound, even though it came from a
fierce fighter.

Pilot, we must leave.
The wraith travels to Capra.

Evana was about to
speak to Drake when Jarrok explained. “The outer circle is the symbol for our
mother’s bloodline. The central design represents our father’s.”

“And the similar
one on your back shoulder?”

Still smiling,
Jarrok said, “The outer circle is our warrior clan’s symbol. The center
contains our name and identification.”

Drake nodded in
understanding. “The soldiers of my kind wear a chain with tags that contain
that information.”

“Ours are more
permanent,” Jarrok told him. He laughed outright, and said, “We’d just break
the chains, lose our ‘tags,’ I think.”

Pilot.

Evana jerked
against her mate, getting his attention. “We must leave—now!” she urged. “Our
enemy is on his way to,” she almost said Capra, but changed to, “our home.”

*

Drake took a last
look at the young warrior, memorizing his chest tattoo, before rising. He
brought Evana beside him as he rose. He noticed Jarrok studying them, his brows
drawn together in concern after what she’d said.

“Is your home
nearby?” Jarrok’s face lit with eagerness, his desire to help them fight
against their enemy evident in his hopeful expression.

“A far distance,”
Drake told him. “We must hurry. It was an honor to fight at your side.”

Jarrok stood and
responded formally. “We’re grateful for your assistance, Drake, and we won’t
forget how you helped us this day.” His words sounded sincere. To Evana, he
said, “Thank your goddess for saving Young Attor. My mate, Tallya, will tend
his wounds while he heals.”

Evana tilted her
head slightly before she looked down at the unconscious younger warrior. “He’ll
recover, Jarrok. And he’ll be stronger than any warrior you’ve ever known.
Attor will make his mother proud.”

Drake led her a few
steps away. Before he could bid Jarrok a final farewell, the surface
disappeared and they stood in the middle of the control room on Nemesis.

*

Evana was swept up
in a crushing embrace, her frame molded to her mate’s rock hard body. He
captured her mouth in a brutal, needy kiss.

“I hate that Breath
of Life crap.” He growled against her lips before his tongue invaded her mouth,
exploring deeply while his arms grew tighter around her, lifting her off the
floor.

If she weren’t a
pilot, he would’ve broken most of the bones in her upper body. She sensed his
purpose, relaxed and threw her arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him
back with equal enthusiasm. His erect shaft pressed against her slightly
swollen abdomen.

“Pilot!”

Drake stiffened in
reaction to the ghost ship’s voice. Gradually, he ended the kiss, but didn’t
release her from his embrace. “I smell him on you, Evana, on your lips and
taste him in your mouth.” He brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. “You’re
mine. I won’t tolerate another male’s scent on you, just mine.”

“I’m yours alone,
my love. In every way—always.” As if to disagree, the small unborn life within
her struck out in protest.

Drake jerked
slightly before his embrace relaxed. “I think our son has a different opinion.
He knows exactly where to kick.” Her mate growled, indicating his frustration.

“Our son should go
back to sleep and keep his opinions to himself,” Evana retorted and stood on
tiptoe to nuzzle her mate. “The battle has made you hungry?”

“Very hungry.”

“Pilot, please take
care of your mate quickly. The elixir is ready for you. We have left this
system and can go to light speed.”

Evana looked
longingly into her mate’s eyes. His gaze mirrored her own desire. They were
running out of time. “You detected the wraith?”

“As soon as the
creatures came out of the city, my scans located the wraith
jumping to
light speed. He is within Free Space borders and on course to Capra. I
calculate if we leave immediately, we can make up some time, but he will reach
Capra three hours before us. Please do not delay any longer, Evana.”

Nemesis was as
close to frantic as Evana had ever known. She nodded at Drake and exposed her
neck. “Quickly, love.”

His disappointed
groan reached her ears a second before his fangs slipped into her throat. She
clung desperately to him as he fed. The sensation of her blood leaving at such
a fast rate due to his voracious draw was exquisitely sensual. Instantly bathed
in wetness, the core of her sex throbbed for release.

He must have sensed
her need, because he dipped his hand between her legs. He ripped off her thong,
letting the pieces fall to the floor while he palmed her pussy. His fingers
stroked across her sensitive clit, coaxing it to stiffen and twitch in anticipation.
Her orgasm shattered through her, and he groaned as the taste of her pleasure
passed to him in her blood. He slowly withdrew his fangs and they held each
other for support.

His giant body
shuddered against hers, his breathing heavy from arousal. Normally, they’d
continue their lovemaking, but not this time. She found the strength to release
him and they parted.

“To be continued,”
he rasped. His voice rumbled with unspent passion.

“Yes, on Capra.”

Shakily, she
crossed to the alcove to retrieve her own nourishment. She grabbed the goblet
and downed the entire contents in one long gulp. Strength renewed, she rushed
to the pilot bed and jumped inside. Before reclining, she gave her mate a last
look, capturing his image in her mind to sustain her during their journey. He
gave her a wink along with a sexy smile.

She relaxed onto
the bed and the cover slid closed. Nemesis immediately filled her with energy,
which sent them surging toward home and the next battle. She prayed it was the
final one.

*

After the pod
closed, Drake stalked toward it and placed his hand on top the cover, gently
stroking his palm across the smooth black surface. Soft vibrations emanated
from the coffin-like bed. They were ridiculously mild, considering the enormous
power exchange.

“Do not be jealous,
beloved mate.”

“I wanted to kill
him, Nemesis. I still do.”

He knew without a
doubt he would’ve killed young Attor if Evana hadn’t played the guilt card. His
loyalty to her just barely overcame his instinct to protect her.

The vampire in him
raged at the thought of her touching another male or another male touching her.
She was his alone, no other’s. However, the more civilized human part of him
knew she was his and that she loved him alone. It was a constant struggle
between his two identities.

“Evana is
experiencing very strong protective feelings right now. She carries your
child,
Drake.”

“
Humph!
” he
grunted. “So you think it’s a hormonal thing, Nemesis?”

“Yes, but never
doubt one thing. Evana loves you. She would give her life first before allowing
any harm to come to you.”

Drake shook his
head and growled softly. “I won’t let her do that—ever.”

His fear for her
safety rose to high alert. He worried about their upcoming confrontation with
the wraith. The infestation on the Tauran world had been nothing more than a
diversion. It was obvious to him that Bayal had wanted them to leave Capra and
had purposefully drawn them away.

The next fight was
the real battle. Nemesis would go up against the wraith. The ghost ship had
always assured him she could destroy the smaller entity with ease. No problem,
he thought silently while trying his best to believe what Nemesis had told both
he and Evana. In all honesty, he still didn’t trust the wraith.

A nagging thought
kept screaming at him that something just wasn’t quite right. Bayal had to have
a plan, something that gave him the confidence to confront a more powerful
ghost ship, face-to-face so to speak, and win.

“Nemesis?” Drake
checked to see if she was in the mood for a chat.

“Yes, beloved mate.”
Her response came immediately.

“How long before we
reach Capra?”

“Ten hours, if we
maintain our present speed.” In “Nemesis language” that translated to ten hours
as long as Evana didn’t need to stop to renew her strength.

“How much damage
can the wraith do before we arrive?”

“He will reach
Capra three hours ahead of us. It would be foolish of him to attack the planet
outright. Such action would deplete him of his power, leaving him extremely
weak and vulnerable, and an easy kill for me. I do not expect him to create any
abominations either. To do so would be a waste of time. We would arrive before
any of them could awaken. I suspect the wraith will attack Evana or me. We are
the target, not Capra.”

“He’s insane if he
thinks he can defeat you in a head-to-head confrontation. He must have a plan.”

“All will be
revealed when we are close enough for my scans to sweep the system and probe
the planet’s surface. Right now, the wraith maintains a straight course to
Capra.”

“I’ve got a bad
feeling about this,” Drake complained. His voice sounded deeper and grumblier
than usual as it echoed within the quiet control room. It startled him. He
shook off the feeling of dread that accompanied his outburst.

“Take this time to
prepare. You still wear the evidence of the last battle. Refresh yourself and
rest. We must fight again soon.”

Nemesis was right.
Smelly creature splatter decorated his body, a result of fighting alongside
arm-bladed wielding Tauran warriors. The power swords sliced through flesh and
bone with neat precision, no blood spray or mess slung around as a result. The
warriors were just plain gory. And for some odd reason, the leftover creature
goop he and Evana wore after the battle didn’t want to turn to powdery dust
like the decapitated creature’s bodies. Knowing his mate would emerge from the
pod completely cleansed and radiant, he decided to take Nemesis’ advice.

Drake looked over
his shoulder and longingly eyed the doorway to Evana’s quarters. He could
shower and rest for a while, enjoy the lounge and the sounds of the lively
stream splashing nearby
. Or not
. He sighed heavily and turned toward his
own quarters. He lumbered to the door. He pressed his hand against the wall,
and when the doorway appeared, he entered without hesitation.