Page 25 of Betrothed to the Alien Mercenary

Even sick and possibly dying, I knew the value of those chemicals. With blistered feet, I scrambled over the mat and managed to roll the container closer. I almost had it. If I could just break the lid and tip it over behind my back, I could burn through my ties. But Imala was back with help before I managed, and a guard roughly kicked my ankle to stop me from knocking it over. “What do we do?” the female asked, and her cultured, posh accent confirmed what I had already suspected: a sister of Evadne, another Xurtal princess.

I was freed from the bindings, but, sadly, too weak to fight free of the pair of strong warriors Imala had fetched. I could tell her what I needed, but would that save me or doom me? At this point, it was becoming harder to think and harder to know what I should do. Imala was Evadne’s sister; shouldn’t she be an ally, my friend? Or did she hate me because I survived and her sister died?

When everyone just stood around me, staring, I opened my mouth and croaked, “Heatstroke. Damn it. Cool me. Water.” It seemed like the last thing I wanted—to cool my body when I was shivering badly—but I knew it was the only way to live. The Xurtal knew how to treat this condition because even the most seasoned of their warriors and hunters could be struck by it out in the Xurtal deserts. They had just never seen its symptoms in a human.

My words jerked one of the guards into motion, and he raced out of the tent, returning what seemed like the blink of an eye later. With him came a flood of ice and water. It felt like it rained down on me, but when I surfaced, I discovered that they’d thrown me into a tank of it—wasting their precious water supplies on lowly me. I was trembling, aching, and sick as I hung onto the edge of the open tank, but clarity came back with each slow breath I took.

I had nearly died because of their carelessness, their cold disregard for my well-being. This was the final straw; I was done giving a crap about their people. Closing my eyes, I ignored everyone around me—even the princess as she started fussing with my wet hair so she could dye it green once more.

Aramon had to find me; I was too weak to escape now. Heat had caused this, it was the worst enemy. I wasn’t out yet though—I still had breath, and now I had things that weremine.Like Aramon’s love, the mate bond, and a future with him aboard the Varakartoom. I was given a chance to see parts of the quadrant, make friends with the women on the ship, and carve out my own place. I could be something other than Evadne’s double, the fake princess.

Drawing in a deep breath, I focused on all those feelings, all those wants, and desires. Aramon was a psychic being, forever entwined with the mind of his twin. When he was in desperate need, that’s what he’d drawn strength from. Humans had no hope of ever matching that, but maybe, if I thought hard enough, he’d sense something.Feelsomething. It was a last, desperate effort, but since it was all I had, I gave it my best. There was no one here to tell me it was impossible, except me, and I wasn’t going to.

Aramon, I’m here. Find me.

Chapter 22

Aramon

Solear was vibrating in the navigational seat next to me, his feet jiggling against the deck with tension. I felt oddly calm in comparison, but maybe that was because he was drawing all that anxiety from me, taking it as his own. I wouldn’t put it past him, but I was too wrung out, too worried to sense it.

Asmoded placed his hand on my shoulder. “Almost there. We’ll find your human. Don’t you worry.” His low, sibilant voice was soothing, but his words made me twist in my seat in surprise. I thought Evie and I had kept her status as a body double and a human a secret, but it was clear now that Asmoded knew. I hadn’t told him, which left… I twisted to the side and gave Solear a glare, but my brother hunched his shoulders and kept his focus on the readings in front of him, the cable that plugged him into the navigational computer pinched between his shoulder and the side of his head.

“Don’t look at Solear like that, you hothead,” Asmoded said, and his hand held me a little tighter, squeezing to grab my attention. “I knew right away. Her scent. Besides, the illegal illusion device is clever, but it’s not good enough to fool Dravion’s machines.” So the ship’s doctor had known too, but neither my captain nor the doctor had decided to act on this information. They’d kept Evie’s secret. I knew they were good males, and that sealed it in my mind.

“Evie had no choice,” I growled defensively, though I saw no judgment on my captain’s face. He smiled—a tilt of his lips that revealed the sharp points of his fangs. It wasn’t a friendly smile; it was satisfied, victorious. I didn’t understand why he would look like that, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that we found my mate as soon as possible.

“We will,” Asmoded agreed, and I realized I must have spoken those thoughts out loud. “Look, it’s there.” Solear drew my attention through our bond at the same time, and I forced myself to focus on the shuttle. It looked like any other stretch of the desert: dismally empty and barren—sand dunes and rock outcroppings, but not so much as a hint of vegetation, nor a hint of my mate.

Urgency pounded in my veins, drawing on my slow-beating heart and crackling along my skin like electricity. Something was wrong. Something was happening to Evie right now. It felt like she was dying, slipping from my grasp like grains of sand. My lip throbbed dully, as if I’d bitten it, but I couldn’t recall doing that. I hadn’t been struck in the face by the disguised Krektar either, so it could only have one source: Evie was hurt.

Despite seeing nothing at the location our tracker had led us to, we had no choice but to land and look for clues. I was thirsty as I stepped out of the ship, but that thirst rapidly transformed into a pounding headache as I followed my captain onto the sands. The Asrai were not desert dwellers like the majority of the Xurtal; we preferred temperate climates. Still, my armor kept my body at the perfect temperature, designed to work in space as well as protect me from fire. A little desert should have been nothing, but I was sweating and panting as I trudged after Asmoded.

His long, serpentine body had no issue with the loose sand. He slithered along it, eyes peeled to a handheld scanner, and in seconds, he’d located the right spot. With a few flicks of his tail, sand shifted and slid, and there it was: Evie’s suit. Even her boots lay in a pile that had been covered by the ever-shifting sand. The bastard that stole her had stripped her of every protection and any ability we had to track her.

I picked everything up, especially the boots, which I knew she treasured deeply. Pressing them tightly against my heaving, sweaty chest, I locked eyes with Asmoded and ignored how worried my captain looked. “We have to find her now. She’s dying. I can feel it.” I tapped my fist against the toe of the boot pressed to my heart, the sound echoing hollowly. “Heatstroke.”

Asmoded never questioned how I knew, neither did Solear. My brother was always silent, but he’d followed us down the ramp of the shuttle. Now he curled an arm around my shoulders, his hand tight as a vice. “Wewillfind her,” he said with a snarl, his sharp teeth bared to the fierce glare of the sun. “Close your eyes. You know what to do.”

Ah, Solear, where would I be without you? I thought and of course, he was right there to catch that thought.Nowhere, bro, nowhere.It felt like my laugh was stuck in my chest, and my brain ached when I did as he suggested and closed my eyes to everything around me. The immense heat from before had faded, and now I was shivering with cold. I hooked into that cold, grabbed hold of it with my mind, and then I chased that vein of ice back to the source.

I had never done this before; it was an experience truly new to me, maybe even new to the Asrai as a whole. That could not stop me from doing it, from chasing that path with all my might, blazing through it with heat to combat the ice. I’d sensed her before and thought it was wishful thinking. Now I could not let any doubts hold me back: there was a bond, and I would find it, open it as wide as it would go. And then I’d findher.

***

Evie

The dye would not take. I thought that was hilarious and kept laughing like a maniac, much to the frustration of the guards and the poor, confused Princess Imala. She was a small, delicate woman with the face of a baby, no older than sixteen. I was starting to think that she had no power here and might be as scared as I was about her future. Okay, maybe she didn’t fear imminent death the way I did, but she was definitely not the one calling the shots, as she would have been back home.

“Please help me figure this out,” she hissed under her breath, her eyes darting fearfully to the pair of guards who remained. After my ice bath, they had not left. They’d dragged me from the cold water at some point, and I remained huddled on the mats like a drowned little Batan. My blouse clung to my skin, making the pale green fabric see-through and treating them to a view of my breasts. They kept staring, but I did not have it in me to care. All I could do was keep that light burning in my mind—the one that focused on all my feelings for Aramon. All my love for him, and hope that it called to him—hope that it was enough.

“Sorry, princess,” I drawled, flicking a still-wet hunk of hair out of my face. The green dye had stained my fingers, but it ran from my copper strands without affecting the color. Whatever the stuff was that had stripped the original dye from my hair, it was preventing new dye from taking. That was such a surprise, and I loved it—a fuck you to Pelarios and his nefarious plans. “Can’t help you. I have zero reason to even try.” When that made one of the guards glare, I stuck my tongue out at him, doing my very best to channel all of Aramon’s chaotic energy.

She sighed, her red eyes wide and fearful, but she seemed to conclude that there was no point in continuing to try. With resignation, she washed her latest attempt from my hair and skin. When she rose to her feet, her own demure white shift was splattered with green, but none of that green remained on me. She ignored the guards as she leaned forward and held out a hand, and I took it awkwardly with my still-bound ones, now tied at the front. With surprising strength for her small frame, she hauled me to my feet, then kicked off her slippers and nudged them at me. “Put those on, or you’ll slow us down.”

Nobody believed that, but the guards did not protest when I stepped into the slightly-too-small shoes. They would prevent further burns on my feet when we went outside; the young princess was very gracious in offering me that mercy. Her skin was tougher, more heat-resistant. She would not suffer burns from the sand the way I did. But for a princess to go barefoot? Pelarios and any of these Xurtal warriors would have a fit about it.

She must still have some respect and power here—more than I thought she did—because one of my guards ducked aside to halt a warrior for a few quickly whispered words. By the time we’d trekked from that smaller tent back toward Pelarios’s big central one, two things had happened: one, the young princess had been brought new shoes; and two, my see-through shirt had dried in the sun.

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