Going Green : Celestial Mates (Science Fiction Alien Romance) (Vialea Book 2) Read online

  Erudan walked among them, utilizing his superior warrior’s skills he had gained in boyhood as one of the royal line. Using his skills was a self-imposed penance for the ruin he had nearly brought upon Vialea. He had conspired to snatch Vrya Jassa Marizen—his birth-brother’s mate—for himself.

  Some might have declared a single turning sufficient. Erudan disagreed.

  As Teon—second to his birth-brother—he should have known better. He should have done better. He was of the royal line and if he did not cling to the honor expected of any warlord, how could he expect it of another?

  Those same thoughts swirled in his mind day after day, crowding him during his peacekeeping patrols. Little else occupied his thoughts. Once he had begun prowling the Ikkim docks, crime had declined, but he still remained ready and alert. His senses continued to be attuned to his surroundings.

  It was the only way to hunt the near-silent shadows that hunted the dark alleys.

  Like the small shadow who approached with increasing speed at his rear. He recognized the quick patter of his visitor’s gait, and Erudan did not draw his weapon.

  A turning among the Vians of Ikkim had taught him a measure of compassion and affection. The emotions once unfamiliar were ever present whenever he encountered the young Entari who closed in on Erudan. The boy burst from the narrow crevice between two buildings and hurled himself into Erudan’s path.

  The young boy bent at the waist, hands on his knees and shaky head low while he panted heavily with exertion.

  “Ahlan?” Erudan crouched.

  Ahlan’s white skin was striped with pale gray that would darken to black as he grew older. Until his natural camouflage manifested, Ahlan garbed himself in black and darkened his forehead, cheeks and chin with warrior’s paint that Erudan had supplied when he realized Ahlan patrolled the night in his own ways.

  “Eru… Erud…” The too small tusks that curled from Ahlan’s mouth dripped saliva as he panted. They caught what scant light penetrated the slithering labyrinth, as did the sweat beading on the boy’s flat, broad black nose.

  Ahlan’s breathing slowed, and Erudan produced a face cloth. He offered the small swath of fabric to the boy so Ahlan would not wipe away the face paint that ensured he remained invisible to the predators that still had not fled Erudan’s reputation.

  “Calm yourself,” he commanded. “What brings you to me like this?”

  “Rargar.” Ahlan clutched the cloth in his fist. His young eyes flashed with a combination of anger and fear. “It has cornered a female. Stalked her and drove her into one of the alleys without an outlet. She is small, Erudan. Strange and pale and weak. She has no weapons. You must go to her before he…”

  Erudan was aware what a Rargar could do.

  “Strange?” Erudan lifted his brow. “Explain further.”

  Vians saw many travelers from many worlds. Strange was not often used as a descriptor because, except for Vialea’s native people, all were strange.

  Ahlan waved the cloth. His lip curled back, showing the root of one tusk. “Strange. Odd pink skin, no fangs or claws. She stinks of fear and foreign things.”

  As the pieces of Ahlan’s account came together, Erudan silently cursed. A strange female, indeed, for she was human. Human like Vrya Jassa, who was the strangest creature Erudan had ever known.

  Straightening abruptly, he drew his weapon. “Lead me to the female. Quickly!”

  Ahlan, who was the closest Erudan might ever come to a son, was fleet of foot and discerning of urgency. A human female at the mercy of a Rargar’s claws and horns—no. He would focus on reaching her, and then there would be no dark possibility to contemplate. The Rargar would not harm a human female, one of the Vrya’s own people, on Erudan’s watch.

  Giving Ahlan the lead, Erudan ran close behind. He was a large male, greater than six feet, and trained to attack with strength and speed. He was not trained for silence like the ghuv, assassins who practically flew through the night, they were so stealthy.

  He was a warrior. As such, his footfalls made far more noise than Ahlan’s. He deliberately dropped his weight loudly to ensure any others who thought to take advantage of the situation would reconsider the unwise choice.

  For this night would end in bloodshed.

  When Ahlan signaled they were approaching the alley, Erudan lightened his footfalls and calmed his breathing. He sought a warrior’s calm as he entered the alley. Silence lent the added advantage of hearing every word the Rargar grunted at the female.

  The very distracting female, whose scent twined around him like a vine. Instantly, he hardened, his male flesh pressing against the front of his pants. The sensation was so unexpected, he reeled for a moment, his steps stuttering.

  Only one other time had he experienced such a reaction to a female he had not fully seen. Then, he had believed he had found his mate. The female destined to bear his young. He had been wrong, of course. Vrya Jassa belonged with Vroe—his birth brother. There could be no other for her.

  Erudan’s response to her had made no sense. In a turning of contemplation, the only conclusion he had reached was that his blood relation to Vroe had created a transference of need from Vroe to himself.

  Now, he wondered whether it was not Vrya Jassa at all he had responded to, but the fact that she was human. If that was true, would he respond in such a way to every human female he encountered?

  He prayed to Vi that it was not the case and then pushed the matter aside. The Rargar was far closer to the female than Erudan liked.

  Far, far too close. Six galaxies too close. So close, in fact, that Erudan would not be able to use his weapon without risking injury to the female.

  The thought of hurting her nearly brought him to his knees. What was happening to him?

  “Mine.”

  Erudan blinked at the guttural word. It was so close to the word that tried to enter his own mind. Had he spoken it aloud?

  No.

  The sound came from the Rargar, like rocks grinding against rocks. It was attached to more sounds. “Pretty human. No protector. No mate.”

  The female gasped and sputtered as she cringed against the wall. Erudan could not see her features past the Rargar’s bulk, but he knew the sound of fear.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Very wrong. I have a mate. He’s just, uh, stuck. In traffic. He’ll be here any minute and you better be history by then, or he’ll kick your ass six ways to Sunday.”

  Erudan’s snarl rippled through the alley. She had a mate?

  If so, she must have chosen poorly. Only a weak, useless male would permit his female to wander the alleys of Ikkim to be cornered by a Rargar.

  Useless male.

  “No mate would leave female to Rargar. I take. Train then you be slave on transport.”

  “No.” That word, Erudan had spoken aloud. Although spoken was perhaps an inadequate word. Snarled. Growled. Roared.

  He was gifted with the Rargar’s attention. That was all that mattered.

  The great, four-armed alien turned, bulk still blocking the female with its body, but now it was focused on Erudan.

  “You.” The Rargar tossed its horns and swung its arms in a classic display meant to intimidate a challenger. “Erudan,” it spat. “All Rargar know of you. Will praise this one greatly for killing you.” It jerked its chin, gesturing with its pointed horns. “Head will bring many credits. Much honor.”

  The Rargar knew him? Not surprising. He had wiped Ikkim with their hides this past turning. Now, he would clean another dark alley with a Rargar’s bristly hairs.

  Behind the snarling male, the human female gasped.

  “Erudan?”

  He winced. Her voice was shrill. When she repeated his name in a higher, even more piercing tone, he had an urge to cover his ears.

  The Rargar stalked forward, still waving his arms, showing claws and moving his head back and forth. His horns were the length of Erudan’s forearms and were used to protect the Rargar from close combat attacks.


  Erudan sighed, having no choice but hand to hand. He tossed his weapon to Ahlan, who had not made a sound since entering the alley. Unlike the whimpering female. He would soothe the female—woman—once he was done with this beast.

  He dropped low and moved in.

  The Rargar was large. Bigger than even Erudan, whose size was rivaled only by his blood-brother. Size, reach, and rage were all the Rargar possessed, though.

  Erudan had superior training. His skills had been honed by the best. And rage—that, he had as well. He ducked under the Rargar’s flailing arms to plow his fist into its side, earning a grunt from his opponent. The move gifted him with something else, as well. Another whiff of the female’s delicate scent.

  With no warning, his annoyance rocketed into overwhelming fury—a rage he had only ever experienced in battle with his blood-brother and other Vian at his side encompassing him. The burning wrath consumed him, pushing him to hit harder, move faster.

  He rained his fists down on the snarling, growling Rargar and with each strike, his fury increased. A feeling like battle lust enveloped him but yet… there was no scent of blood in the air. There were no victorious shouts from other warlords to spur his fight.

  No, this unending need to kill came from somewhere else within him—a place where his soul reached for his mate while he pledged his life in defense of hers.

  He continued to ride the rage-filled high when his fist cracked the Rargar’s jaw. The alien released a ground-shaking roar and stumbled sideways until he struck a wall. He gradually slid down the metal until he struck the littered ground and then slumped to the side—the sudden silence only broken by his ragged breathing.

  Erudan stared down at the alien male, watching and waiting to see if the sentient beast had truly succumbed to unconsciousness or merely pretended. He fought to calm his breathing and slow his heartbeat, saving himself in the event that the Rargar surged. But it did not. He shook out his fists and flexed his fingers as he strode to the alien. He drew his foot back and struck the Rargar’s head, one quick kick to ensure the beast remained insensible.

  “Ahlan, go. Find the other peacekeepers. Warn them of Rargar hunting this night.” Erudan examined his split knuckles and then wiped them on his pants.

  Ahlan darted forward to return his weapon and then dashed away, short legs pumping as he disappeared into the shadows.

  Once alone, Erudan directed his attention to the female. He turned slowly and braced himself for the sight of her tears. And as he did, her scent surrounded him once more. The delicious, delicate notes of her aroma somehow rose above the stench of this part of Ikkim. It nearly knocked him back and he braced his feet apart to remain upright—to stop himself from darting forward and pulling the stranger into his arms.

  He was a Vian peacekeeper. A warrior with royal blood. Dishonored once, he would not allow himself to become so again, no matter the mysterious power human females seemed to hold over him.

  Her wealth of silky hair clung to her flushed, damp face, reminding him of a well-loved female who only recently rose from her mating bed. He fought to deny himself the privilege of tracing her lush curves outlined by her form-fitting pants and tunic. No, not a tunic. It did not cover the sweet triangle at the juncture of her thighs.

  His hardness lengthened and he gritted his teeth, fighting the need to pull her close.

  He would not—could not—lose focus.

  Erudan yanked his gaze from her and growled out his words. “In future, be more careful. If you cannot see danger on your own and your mate cannot protect you, find another male. One strong enough to keep you safe and under control.”

  “You,” she gasped the word.

  Erudan hauled his gaze to her face, meeting her sparkling eyes.

  “You— you—” she sputtered.

  He sighed and shook his head. He did not do well with females. As proven by his past. “You do not have to thank me. I know that you are overcome. Do not attempt to speak. I do not require your thanks. It is my honor,” what shreds remained of it, “to protect you from the Rargar.”

  She heaved a deep breath. Her hands shook as she pushed her hair from her face and then reached into the strangely colored pouch strapped across her curvaceous chest.

  Distracted by the heaving mounds, crowned with stiff points, he did not see what she retrieved at first.

  “You’re right. It should be an honor. My mate should totally be here. In fact—” Her voice rose, approaching the shrill tone he had heard before. “In fact, he should have been here some time ago.”

  A tingle danced across the back of Erudan’s neck, the short hairs rising. He had prepared himself for her fear, her tears. He was not sure what to do with screeching.

  Erudan jerked his gaze from her chest once more, and he noted small droplets of moisture glistening in her eyes. Her bright, furious eyes narrowed as she brandished a flimsy item she had withdrawn from her bag.

  This was not fear. This was anger. No, she was furious. Approval and appreciation surged in response to her fire. His hardness did as well, straining at the confines of his pants.

  Vi, but he needed to remove himself. He had denied himself the comfort of a female since he had lost his honor. He even intended to suffer alone through his coming firez.

  His firez! The thought of it sent heat flashing through him. His annual time for mating was drawing near. Perhaps that was why he reacted to her as he did.

  “Do not come any closer.” He held out a warning hand as she stalked nearer.

  “Oh, I’m coming closer.” Her mutter reached his ears a moment before she batted his hand aside and met him toe to toe. Her curves rose against his chest, delightfully soft with firm tips.

  Erudan took a step back. She followed.

  “I’m perfectly capable of sensing danger, thank you very much. I sensed it the moment I stepped off the ship and found myself alone—abandoned by a jerk-y irresponsible mate. And you know what? He’d vowed to take care of me.” Her furious tone faltered. “Except he didn’t.”

  He had the strangest urge to reach for her, pull her into his arms, and offer comfort at the crack in her voice.

  But instead of dissolving into tears, she seemed to find an inner strength. For some reason, pride surged through him at the sign of her renewed determination. Then that pride turned into overwhelming fury aimed solely at the male who had failed her.

  “He didn’t.” Her voice was firm once more. “He broke that promise and put me in danger. I traveled across six galaxies and stepped off the ship expecting protection, but do you know what I got?”

  Erudan did not believe she wanted an answer to her question so he remained silent.

  The female jabbed him in the chest. “Nothing.” She poked him again. “Nothing! Some lowlife stole my cases and when I tried to chase him, I couldn’t catch him because everyone deliberately blocked me.” She seemed to have endless stores of breath. “I don’t know why. Maybe they thought it’d be funny to watch a human yell and chase a thief she had no chance of catching. Maybe they knew my mate didn’t have the honor God gave a gnat. All I do know is that it shouldn’t have happened.” Her glare turned even more threatening. “But here you stand, blaming me when all I’ve tried to do was survive, dammit.”

  Erudan remained quiet, waiting to see if she was finished. He marveled at her passionate tirade though he was concerned for the rightness of her mind.

  She heaved a deep breath and clutched his tunic with her small fist. She was tiny compared to him, but as she gripped his clothing and used him as leverage to draw herself taller, she was magnificent. She even growled and his hardness throbbed, aching to find relief inside her.

  Those eyes glowing with suppressed anger, the sensual growl still in her throat, she spoke again. “I’ve had a really, really bad night and do you know who’s at fault?”

  “Your mate.”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. My mate.”

  A flash of white whipped across his vision right before she smack
ed him in the face with the object. Punched him, in truth, and crumpled the page against his nose.

  Erudan seized her by the waist and set her back so she could not assault him again. Then he took the paper from her. He scanned the item, squinting as he absorbed the words.

  He was not sure what she expected as a response so he stated the obvious. “This is a legal document.”

  “Yup. Take a nice long look at it.”

  Erudan shook his head, but did as asked. He skimmed the logo and seal that proved the document was an official contract issued by Celestial Mates.

  He swallowed hard as a chill traced his spine. That chill turned into a numbness and buzzing in his ears when he reached the names of the two parties bound by the contract.

  The female was called Rhea Lux. Her name wanted to roll off his tongue in a sensual caress as he found ultimate release, but he swallowed the desire. Along with every hint of moisture in his mouth.

  Because that was when he reached the male’s name…

  His own.

  Three

  Reading about hewo trees and seeing hewo trees in person were two vastly different experiences. The massive trees that housed Vians sounded so beautiful when she’d been doing her research. Standing on the front porch of Erudan’s home, hundreds of feet off the ground? Yeah, way different.

  It was almost enough to distract her from the events of the last hour. Almost.

  But every time she pulled her attention from the world around her, she was met with the sight of Erudan’s back as he led her onward. She watched the shift of his muscles beneath the snug tunic of his peacekeeper uniform, his broad shoulders and back making her fingers tingle with the need to explore his body. He’d used those muscles—that strength—to defeat the Rargar and save her from a future as a slave.

  That fierce male was supposed to be her mate. She’d arrived on Vialea prepared to give her body to Erudan—not her damaged heart. She’d fantasized about finding comfort and pleasure in his arms, anxious to connect with him on a physical level. Celestial Mates had matched her to the massive Vian and she’d been prepared to give everything.