Page 5 of The Arabis Triad

Paxt glanced down at the unconscious face of their mate. If they lost the crystal, retrieving her would be a bittersweet victory. They could not fully mate-sync with her, and their land would remain barren.

They had the best medi-bay. They were the best warriors of their Homeland. And this was a last-ditch chance. They, their Homeland, and their mate needed the crystal and those deplorable creatures had possession of it. Anger simmered in him, along with a bone-clenching determination. How they’d stolen all three crystals was a mystery for another day, but for now, there was no question what they had to do.

“Follow them,” he said.

Coltan’s dark gaze glinted in agreement. He worked the console and their craft sped toward the quickly diminishing clouds. Every muscle in Paxt’s body strained as they fought to reach the shrinking circle of darkness in the middle.

Their craft shook as they skimmed the outskirts. The temperature dipped and his breath condensed. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he glimpsed a horrifying face in the cloud matter before they shot into the hole. The clouds scraped the outer wings. Jagged lightning flashed and a dizzying wormhole spiraled around them.

The craft shuddered, but Coltan adjusted their speed, going faster than they had ever pushed their ship before. Grav-force slammed Paxton into the back of his seat. Every muscle screamed as he fought to hold their mate.

They burst through the wormhole, stars streaking past them. An unknown planet reared ahead of them. In the distance, the scaled ones’ craft descended in a flash of sparks and heated atmosphere. He didn’t have time to think before they were plummeting down the same path.

“Hold her, Paxt. We’re out of control.” Coltan’s white-knuckled grip was on the controls. His lips peeled back, revealing clenched teeth. He did his best to keep an even keel, but their craft was in the gravitational pull of the planet and they were in an out-of-control spiral. The craft shuddered as it skimmed the top of the sparse particles of the upper atmosphere, before tumbling down. “Going down.”

Metal screamed. The air was now sweltering. The pressure inside the craft built, pressing on his skull with an invisible vise. They plummeted through clouds before a green canopy rushed beneath them. The tips of tall trees hit the hull. The engines screamed in a shrill whine.

Huge branches snapped like twigs as they crashed through the forest. Metal shrieked and cracks boomed as their craft hurled through the flora. A low-hanging branch came fast into the viewscreen. It cracked as they slammed into it. Paxt covered their mate’s body as best he could with his own to protect her as they were thrown about. The craft listed to the side. They bounced against massive trunks, slung one way and then the other.

There was an enormous crunch as they hit the ground. The sound of crushed rocks crunching against metal was overwhelming, until finally, they came to a complete, almost gentle stop.

He peered through the cracked viewscreen. Large, vibrant fronds waved over their craft in a languid breeze, the foliage so thick he couldn’t see beyond the immediate flora. He dragged in ragged lungfuls of air, fighting to gain equilibrium. Silence pinged in his ears after the roar of their descent and landing. His body prickled with heat, sticky perspiration covered his skin.

They were alive! Impossibly. Amazingly alive. The only thing was he had no idea where they were and he had no idea how they were going to get back to their Homeland after going through a black hole like that.

Or if it was even possible at all.

Chapter Three

Ashir

The craft finally came to a stop, and he was alive—two things that had seemed doubtful until a few moments ago. His body was a mass of aches and pains, having been thrown about like a ball in a ballista match. He’d ripped out a panel and held onto the cables inside as the craft had started to tilt. He hadn’t a clue what had happened, only that it wasn’t anything good.

He struggled to his feet, heading toward the cabin, heart in throat. His brothers and their mate were in the cockpit—the three most precious people in the known universe to him. Gods knew what had happened to them up there.

“Paxt! Coltan!” His voice was hoarse. Hells, even his throat felt bruised.

He managed a couple of stiff steps before his limbs loosened up a little and he could jog down the narrow corridor, his broad shoulders nearly scraping each side. The ship was—or had been—a luxury craft suitable for royalty, but space was still a premium.

He snorted to himself. He barely thought of himself or his brothers as royalty. Having known thosedrumasheads since birth, he knew them as much as he knew himself. They rejected the pomp and ceremony as much as he did. It was only their parents and the aging royal court in the Arabis Homeland that upheld the old ways.

Since they’d just about given up on finding a mate and having children of their own to carry on the ways of the court, they’d spent most of their time in the training field, belting the hells out of each other and anyone stupid enough to step into the arena. Didn’t seem much point in doing anything else. Not until the Ozar had contacted them with the recent, stupefying news which would change their entire future.

The planet now had hope, which was in the form of a female—ahumanfemale, a species he knew nothing about, and yet he’d known she was their mate as soon as he’d laid eyes on her.

He broke out in a cold sweat as he charged though the doorway into the cockpit. She was in bad shape. He could only hope that she hadn’t suffered more in the crash.

His gaze traveled over the cockpit. The viewscreen was smashed, some of the shards were shattered about the small space. He glimpsed a lush world of vibrant greens in a hole as a humid breeze touched his hair.

Coltan and Paxt were stirring in their seats in the cockpit. His brothers were as tough as old hide. They would be fine. It was the limp female embraced securely in Paxt’s lap that held his immediate attention.

He didn’t know anything about human physiology, but her pale face, smudges of blood, and swollen limbs didn’t look right to him. That, and she was too still, her chest barely moving in slow breaths. Paxt had held her tight, stopping her from any fatal injury she might have otherwise had. He would trust his brother to do that.

Ashir held a shaking hand to her forehead. Her skin was cold and clammy. She needed the medi-bed immediately. At least they were on their own craft, and it had been installed with the best of every modern convenience.

“She isn’t regaining consciousness. We need to get her into the medi-bed at once,” Ashir said, his voice hoarse. He’d never feared anything much in his life. Until now.

“Gods!” Paxt’s hands looked impossibly large on her small body as he held her securely in the protection of his arms.

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