Page 11 of Rogue: Planet Athion
My stomach dropped at the sound of my name even though I’d known it was coming.
“Put me in,” Marlon demanded. “You want the best team, then why are you putting in the newbie?”
Marick ignored him. “Eat up, and then get oiled up. The buzzer will sound in two hours, and you’ll be expected back in your cells. The team will be extracted and escorted, and the rest of you will be collected fifteen minutes later to be taken to the viewing pit. You can watch your comrades from there.”
The intercom cut out, but he wasn’t done. He walked closer to my cell, blocking off my view of Xavier.
“Enjoy your final hours in the bosom of your final family, Rogue.”
“Oh, I’ll enjoy it, about as much as you enjoyed having two testicles once.”
His face paled, and his eyes hardened to chips. “And you’ll be paying for that soon enough, and I’ll make sure I have a front row seat.” He hissed the words in my face, spittle flying, and then he was gone, leaving me stunned.
My gaze focused on Xavier. His jaw was tight, his eyes bright. I took a shuddering breath.
“It will be all right,” he said. “We’ll win this.”
“We’d better. Because if we don’t, then I’m as good as dead.”
The buzzer sounded, and we made our way out of our cells. I didn’t wait for the others this time. Instead, I headed for the training room and straight for the treadmill, where I ran as if the hounds of hell were at my back. Several minutes at a sprint had my heart pumping, had the blood hot in my veins, and had my throat closing up with panic and an excess of a cocktail of emotions that I needed to shut down, because if I didn’t, I’d fall apart, and there was no room for that. Not today. Not in this place. Not ever.
“Rogue. Rogue! Enough.” Marlon jabbed at the speed button on the machine until I was forced into a jog.
“Damn it, Marlon.” I batted at his hand, but Anton scooped me off the machine.
As soon as his arms closed around me, as soon as his chest pressed to my side, my body curled into him, allowing him to cradle me and carry me from the room.
He held me tight as he padded down the corridor back toward the cells, but it wasn’t my cell he took me to, it was his. He sat on his bunk with me in his lap and then began to rock me.
My eyes grew hot. “Damn it, Anton …”
My wall was crumbling, and the panic was seeping through. The fear of what was to come and the very real possibility that I might not make it back was surging up to flood my system. My grasp on control was loosening.
“Let it out.” Anton’s tone was coaxing and calm. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
He was giving me permission, and my body reacted instinctively, eager to let go. Anton rested his chin on my head and just held me while I allowed the terror to wash over me, while I trembled with it. Long minutes passed as the fear squeezed my chest so hard I thought my breath would stop completely.
“Breathe,” he said. “In through your nose and out through your mouth.”
I did as he instructed and slowly, slowly, the tightness ebbed.
His grip tightened. “Good, Rogue, rein it in now.” He made circles on my back. “We have less than an hour to go. You need to be ready.”
I inhaled him, fisting his shirt in my hand as awareness trickled through me. Awareness of his scent and the hardness of his body against mine. Awareness of the heat of him. A liquid warmth unfurled inside me, and I raised my head so my lips skimmed up his neck to press against his jaw. His stubble was deliciously abrasive, and I resisted the urge to flick out my tongue and taste him.
He tensed. “Rogue …”
I needed this, this one moment. I needed to know what his lips felt like, just in case … In case I didn’t get to come back.
He pulled away to look into my eyes, and his expression softened, his fingers grazed my cheek, and then he claimed my mouth in a tentative kiss that graduated into something deeper, something hungry and lingering that pushed away the fear and teased to life a sweet ache at the apex of my thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed myself up against him, straddling him to deepen the kiss. His chest rumbled, and his hands slid down to cup my arse. He tasted zesty and fresh and delicious, and oh, God, I wanted more. Every fiber of my being seemed to be on fire for him. His hand flexed on my hips and pulled me close. A low moan filled the air—mine or his, I wasn’t so sure—and then he was breaking the kiss to stare up into my face.
Our chests were heaving, and the air was still charged, but the terror was gone and in its place was determination, because I was damned if I was going out without more of this.
Anton smiled. “That’s my girl.”
I climbed off his lap and straightened my clothes. “We can do this.”
“Yes,” Anton said. “We can. I got your back, Rogue. Always.”
