Page 57 of Alien Desire
“Emma, no!” Tor calls from the distance.
But I have no time to seek him out as I twist around. The guard is back on his feet too, turning towards me.
He jabs his spear at me and I duck, the blade skimming straight past my ear. I can hear the Gryton’s ragged breath and smell his virulent Alpha scent. In his dark eyes sparks a violent glint that chills me to the bone.
Lunging forward, his blade swipes towards my hip and I spin away. Fluffy whines and growls around us, leaping towards the guard, snapping at his feet and then scurrying away. He kicks at the dog and I seize my opportunity.
Before he has a chance to make his next move, I swing the rifle straight into his side, squeezing the trigger as I do. The weapon hits his ribs with a thwack and then an almighty crack. He stumbles to his knees, topples for a moment before crumpling down.
The stench of burning flesh lingers in the air, burning my nostril. I wretch and stagger away.
My breath rattles in my chest. My blood pounds hot in my veins.
I take a deep breath and run towards Tor. He’s fighting two of them at once, his skin suit ripped and his braid loose, hair falling over his face. A deep gash arcs across his shoulder and another down his cheek. But he’s still fighting, ducking the swerves and blows of the other two Gryton. They are coming at him so fast, all he can do is dodge. He has no chance to get a strike of his own.
I lunge at the smaller one, knocking him around the head with the weapon. It takes him by surprise and Tor uses it to upper cut his jaw, kicking him to the floor and Fluffy is on him, his teeth ripping at his throat.
And then it’s just Tor and the final guard, an older Gryton who fights like someone with years’ of experience. He’s not foolish enough to leave himself exposed, or tempted by Tor’s taunts. There’s intelligence and skill in his manner, and confidence on his lips.
“Who sent you,” Tor shouts at him. “Tell me who issued the order and I might spare your life.”
The Guard’s eyes flit to me. “You have an Omega,” he says, and I don’t like the greed in his eyes.
“Stay back,” Tor growls at me, his arms extended as he tries to shield me. “I’ve got this.”
And maybe he has but I’m not taking that risk. I see my chance as the two of them circle each other and I motion my head at Fluffy who darts forward and nips at the guard’s tail. The guard halts, swiping at the ball of hair with his weapon. Fluffy lets out a whimper of pain that strikes me all the way down to my bones.
No one hurts Fluffy.
No one hurts my Alpha.
Quick as a flash my rifle is lined up and firing. The guard blasts across the ice in a cloud of light and smoke. And it’s over.
I stagger backwards and then I sink to my knees, panting. Despite the cold, sweat streams down my face and bathes my neck, and a sudden nausea crashes through me.
And then Tor’s there, crouched down beside me. His arms come around me, hard and strained, and he squeezes me tight against him. I swivel around in his arms and my mouth is on his, hot and desperate, needing to feel him, to feel his breath and his heartbeat, to know he is safe and here and never ever leaving me.
They tried to kill him. They tried to take him from me. My Alpha. Mine.
And then it breaks, a flood of everything pouring out of me as I grip the back of his neck and press my lips hard against his. Sobs rack my body, tears flowing from my eyes and he tries to tilt away, but I hang on to him tightly, biting his lips and pulling him back into my mouth.
And he groans, kissing me in return with a passion and a ferocity that has to be real, that has to mean something.
Then he picks me up and hurries me into the home that’s been just ours for the last few weeks. I steady my rattling breaths and peer up at him through wet lashes. His eyes glimmer with more emotion than I knew existed inside him. It is so strong, so powerful, I can hardly look. It makes my very soul quake.
When he looks at me like that I could almost believe he loves me, but I know I am nothing more than an Omega to him. Something to own.
He drops me on the bed and we tear at each other’s clothes. I still need to feel his skin, his heart beat, his breath. I need that grounding, a reassurance that he is here with me, safe, alive.
I’ve missed his touch. It has been too long.
I need this. I need him. Even if it’s temporary. Even if he cannot give me what he promised.
His kisses are desperate and feverish down my neck, across my shoulders, over my breasts. His hands are too, gripping and groping at my waist and my arse, my thighs and my stomach.
My body responds to him immediately, a powerful ache forming deep in my gut and between my legs; my own kisses and hands racing to keep up with his.
Our scents grow thick and heavy in the air between us, mixing together to create that aroma I love. A mix of feminine and masculine, heavy and light, hard and soft. Like us. Him all hard planes and sharp edges, me all soft surfaces and sweeping curves. We are opposites. Not meant to be together. And yet we fit so perfectly. No one has ever made me feel like he does.
