Page 14 of Border Control
“In a… what the hell, not more aliens!” Her spiky blue blends with an angry red core, making it purple in places. “You let one group stay and they think they can all move in!”
I chuckle. “This one knows he can stay.” I ride the bond with Nevare now, reporting what he senses as he sees it.
On board stands a bright blue-red shape, and beside him, her energies winding close to his, is his mate.
I announce, “It’s Ilia and El-len, they've returned.”
“About fracking time.” Law-rah’s energy burns hot yellow with happiness. I haven’t sampled someone’s aura like this before; it’s only been this clear when Nevare rides in my mind, not when I’m split between my physical body and my Apex’s far-reaching powers.
Nevare’s attention turns to strobe across the craft, searching for more intelligence. Two blinding bright lights of pure white glow from the cockpit.
I interpret, “They bring with them starhounds, explorers from the far reaches of the galaxy.”
“So, even more aliens after all,” Law-rah gripes, but her aura still shines a yellow as rich as the flowers springing up around the farmhouse despite the expletives in her voice. She’s truly happy.
The craft glides away over the roof of the farm house to hover over the garden. The shelter under the shuttle’s wings shifts as well, exposing us to the driving rain again. Law-rah lets out a small choking sob and I pull her close to maintain cover with my body as much as I can, but I suspect she's not upset over getting wet. More overwhelmed, her energy massing in pinks, purples, and yellows.
“Nevare sees that Ilia plans to land over there,” I reassure her. “They aren't leaving again.”
“They'd better not,” Law-rah says fiercely. She wriggles against me a little to get a hand free to wipe her eyes, but she doesn't ask me to let go.
Despite many of my senses riding with Nevare, I'm acutely aware of her body pressing against mine. The generous curves of her hips rest against the top of my thighs, and I ease my legs apart slightly to help her fit closer. Her form is softer than I’d ever expected, and her sodden coverings are cold where they stick to my upper abdominal scales.
I heat my core for her, and she instantly spreads her fingers over my stomach with a soft sigh of contentment. The sound and her touch zip straight in an arc directly to my cock andcrinis,both straining against my thick carapace. They build the pressure inside me to a peak of acute pain as they quickly get too big to be contained.
I tip my head back, biting my lip hard to stop myself from following my instincts; to take and touch and taste this female. These aren’t Parthiastock impulses! What is this?
‘Dom’s panicking,’Nevare sends across our connection, his attention swinging to me.Drok na, I was broadcasting all over my wave brothers!
‘Is that what a female feels like?’Arik’s voice is curious but not overly interested, and he starts cataloging my feelings.‘Arousal pain denial frustration want longing?—’
‘Stop!’I order. This is too personal, too private, as if Law-rah’s closeness belongs to me alone somehow.
But it doesn’t, and it shouldn’t. I can’t risk distracting Nevare while he’s using his powers. I nearly groan with loss as Law-rah moves back, breaking contact with me. Her colors fade from my awareness, leaving a lingering impression of endless blue I will treasure forever.
“Come on, let's go see them, and then we'll find Arabella,” she orders, and I follow close behind her to the rear of the farmhouse where the stealth craft lands.
Arik and Nevare fall into synchronized step with me. Arture trails behind us, likely hesitant to expose his mechanics to the downpour. I want to press myself as close to Law-rah’s aura as I can, staying in her wake. She opens her deadly instrument into a half-globe over her head, raising it above our heads. When I freeze, she shrugs and walks away, the rain bouncing off the plasteek fabric and small spikes at my chest level. I scale up to reduce the chance of damage.
In the back garden, the stealth shuttle decloaks, revealing a sleek black spaceship for transporting females on medium range galaxy expeditions as well as short interplanetary hops. I haven’t seen this model before, and judging from the impressions collected from my wave brothers, neither have Nevare or Arik.
“What craft is that?” I ask Arture as he catches up.
His eyes go round as betrillium manacles staring at the ship, but he doesn’t volunteer a make or model. He remains utterly still, as if suddenly drenched in plascrete and immobilized in place.
“Arture?”
“Nothing.” The pilot scowls at me, scales a flat dark matt I’d never seen before. “What do you want?”
I don’t know how to deal with the sudden change in demeanor from our quiet, precise pilot, but then again I’dbroken down due to the loss of our leader. “Nevermind.” Ilia will tell me, and the information doesn’t really matter.
The craft turns in place, thrusters pushing out puffs to stabilize it before it starts to descends with quiet hisses. We stay outside of the landing zone, watching.
It finally touches the earth of El-len’s garden with a creak. Within seconds, a hairline crack opens up in the side, flickering into a new configuration as the tiny blocks rearrange. It flows into a bridge, and El-len runs out.
Law-rah lets out a wild squeal and sprints toward her. “Ellen!”
“Laura!”
