The Vilka's Mate: Scifi Alien Romance (Shifters of Kladuu Book 2) Page 5

  He spoke the last word sourly, his expression darkening. If they had no radios with them—and Jude believed they didn’t, because if they did, they surely would have radioed for help by now—she would have to stick with them until they returned to wherever they were based, wherever these Vilkas called home.

  She would radio the station from there and arrange for extraction.

  Until then, she just had to stay alive.

  Swanson returned to the camp at nightfall.

  “How is he?” he asked Gerrit.

  “He hasn’t woken up.”

  Swanson nodded as if he’d expected as much. His eyes did a slow examination of Gerrit’s shoulder, but he didn’t ask his Alpha about it.

  Jude thought that wise, judging by Gerrit’s tight-jawed expression.

  “What’s the plan? We sneak out at night?”

  “Yes,” Gerrit said. “You will.”

  Swanson frowned. So did Jude. She sat up straighter.

  “What?” Swanson asked. “Where are you going? If you’re thinking about drawing them away—”

  “You’re going alone. Back through the pass and straight to my brother. I’ll stay here. The Draqons will stay with my scent. They won’t follow you. You’ll make it back, and Caj will send help.”

  “But you can’t stay here alone.” Swanson sat up straighter, fire in his eyes, and whisper-hissed at his Alpha, “They’ll be flying out for reinforcements as we speak. They know you’re here. By daybreak, they’ll have thirty warriors up there.”

  “I’m not staying. I’ll head back to the Hylan base to get the medicines we need. It’s the only way to make this trip not be a complete waste.” His eyes landed on Ivers. “It’s the only way to make any of this worth it.”

  “Wait,” Jude said, holding up her hand. “If you two are doing that, what am I doing? I’m not lizard bait, am I?”

  “You can choose who you want to go with: Swanson or me.” Gerrit lifted a shoulder like he really didn’t care who she picked. “If you stay with me, we’ll be fighting Draqons again. Swanson will be safer, and when you get to our home, you will be given food and a bed to sleep in and any other medicine you require. You should go with him.”

  Jude fought back the rush of panic his words brought on. She did not want to fight one of those things again if she could avoid it. Swanson was the obvious choice with the promise of comfort and maybe even some new clothes, but … “Do the Hylas have radios?”

  “No,” Gerrit answered flatly.

  “Ships?”

  “No.”

  Jude scowled. What the hell kind of planet is this?

  As she fumed, Swanson lowered his voice and said, “I should stay with you. We have a chance to get back to the Hylan base if we go tonight. We can make decent time if we stick together.”

  “Or we might not. But if we split up, you’ll certainly make it back to the mountain, and Caj will send all the help I could possibly need to make it back home. That’s the plan, Swanson. No arguing. All we have left to settle is who’s taking the girl.”

  “I’m not a girl. And I’m deciding, asshole.”

  Gerrit’s brows raised. “If you were Vilkan, I could have you sequestered for speaking to your Alpha like that.”

  “Then good thing I’m not, right?”

  Swanson grimaced. “Maybe you should come with me, Jude.”

  Jude leaned back against a tree trunk and crossed her arms. “Your base would have a radio for me to use?” she asked Gerrit. From the corner of her eye, she saw Swanson’s gaze dart toward his Alpha, his face too carefully blank. Jude’s eyes narrowed. “You do have radios on this planet, right?”

  “We’ll get you home.” But Gerrit had waited too long to answer, and his voice sounded too stiff for Jude’s liking.

  What a lying, wolf-freak, piece of shit. They were going to keep her here on this insane planet, and if she went with Swanson back to their home, who knew what would happen to her. He said they’d feed her and treat her well but how could she possibly believe him? She’d probably never get out again.

  Her ship—and its locator—was in the opposite direction from the mountain pass Swanson would take tonight. If she stuck with Gerrit, she’d at least be going in the general direction of the crash site. She could run away from him and check to make sure the locator worked and was sending out a signal for the Falconers to use to find her. Then all she had to do was stay by her ship until Commander Gideon sent help. That was it.

  Except for the fact that the man—alien—across from her was a wolf and could most likely track her far easier than Jude could slip away.

  She would have to work on that. But the promise of her ship’s locator was more than she could resist.

  “No offense, Swanson,” she said. She lifted her chin toward Gerrit. “I’ll take my chances with him.”

  Gerrit’s brows rose, but he didn’t look up from Ivers. Swanson didn’t seem surprised she’d chosen the larger Alpha Vilka. “No offense taken.” He hesitated then lowered his voice to say, “Watch after him, okay? Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

  Across their camp, Gerrit’s expression darkened, and he leaned further into the lengthening shadows. He was impossible to read, but the tenderness in Swanson’s voice shocked Jude.

  Swanson waited for her to answer, the earnestness in his gaze coaxing her. “I will.”

  He offered her a brief smile. “Thanks.”

  They didn’t speak much after that. The shadows stretched and grew as the temperature dipped far too quickly for Jude’s liking. She drew her knees up beneath her chin and huddled into her ragged flight suit, which was constructed to keep a pilot from burning, not freezing.

  Falconers don’t shiver. Falconers don’t shiver. Falconers don’t shiver.

  But the mantra didn’t help. Neither did the reminder that Falconers didn’t cry. She might have executed the test almost flawlessly, but she’d killed the only other person who’d witnessed it. Warren wasn’t around to pass her. To sign the document that would make her the first ever female Falconer Elite.

  And she felt like shit for caring about that when Warren was dead, but she’d fought so hard for the chance to fly and wanted it so badly it was like the taste of ash in her mouth to have lost it.

  Just as her teeth began to chatter, Gerrit and Swanson stirred in the darkness. Beneath Gerrit’s watchful eye, Swanson checked his knives and packed up their few belongings. Most of their supplies were scattered on the ground in the mountain pass, beside the dead bodies of the aliens who’d carried them.

  Swanson looked up when he finished, all too soon.

  Gerrit squinted as if he couldn’t look squarely at his friend when he said, “Be safe. Get back to your mate.”

  As if he’d been forcing himself not to think about her, Swanson’s face crumpled. Maybe it was the darkening night around them or the fact she couldn’t feel her fingers thanks to the freezing cold, but Jude’s throat tightened. For a horrible second, she thought she might cry.

  She wasn’t the only person who had lost someone today.

  The two Vilkas stood and clasped arms. Gerrit clapped Swanson’s shoulder. They exchanged other quieter words not meant for Jude to hear.

  The men crouched beside Ivers. As best as they could, they checked his bandages and listened, smelling and not saying anything.

  “Get him to his family,” Gerrit said.

  With a nod, Swanson gathered Ivers into his arms and lifted the man easily before positioning him over his shoulder. Ivers didn’t stir. “Sir,” Swanson started, his face falling into shadow. “Gerrit …”

  “It’s fine, Swanson. Go home.”

  “How should I handle Caj? Do you want me to go straight to him or…?”

  Gerrit’s jaw flexed. “Find Rayner first. He’ll know what to do, and Caj will listen to him.”

  Swanson let loose a shaky breath. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

  “Soon,” Gerrit echoed.

  Swanson met Jude’s eyes. For som
e inexplicable reason, she found herself giving him a nod, as if they had something to share, but then they had run from arrows and acid and talons together. It counted for something.

  Swanson returned the gesture before slipping into the jungle’s moist clutches.

  For a long while, Gerrit stood in the camp, his eyes trained on the darkness where Swanson had vanished. His head tilted at an angle that suggested he was listening too. Occasionally, he’d glance skyward, his nostrils flaring.

  Tracking the Draqons, Jude guessed. She found it easy to watch him, with his muscular back puckered with scars and dried blood. He was hot, even if he was mean as could be. Besides, looking at him distracted her from the cold and the darkening night around them.

  His back was ramrod straight, his fists clenched.

  It must hurt, she thought, to stand so still.

  Finally, after what felt like an hour but could have been only five minutes, Gerrit turned back to the camp. He crouched beside the small fire. Without looking through the flames at her, he said, “If you think you can escape back to your ship, you’re wrong. You’ll just get yourself killed.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  He added another log to the fire. “I won’t stop you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. He would just let her leave? It seemed like a trap. “If you thought we were going to make it, Swanson would be here.”

  “He has a baby.” Gerrit nudged the logs, sending a spray of sparks into the air. “Besides, we’ll make it.”

  “So, a kid’s life is more valuable than an Alpha’s?”

  He looked up and met her eyes. She saw the unfailing belief in his words as he said, “Of course.”

  8

  Jude

  Jude had never been this cold in her entire life.

  To take her mind off her shivering, she focused on Gerrit and his unrelenting silence. “Are we leaving soon?”

  “You asked me that ten minutes ago.”

  “Yeah, and you refused to answer me, so I’m asking again. Are we?”

  “As I’ve already told you, we’re leaving at dawn.”

  Jude wrinkled her nose. She didn’t understand the difference between leaving now and leaving at dawn, but she didn’t press the point. Occasionally, when the night sounds of wind and animals and the gnats buzzing near her ears went quiet enough, she caught the sound of rustling wings far above her head. She shuddered.

  “Why are they just flying around up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “Why not come down here and finish us off?”

  “They’re waiting for reinforcements.”

  Jude frowned. “For what? If you’re right about them not caring that Swanson left, then they know we only have two fighters left.”

  The muscle along Gerrit’s jaw twitched. “But they know I’m alive.”

  Jude snorted out a laugh. She clamped a hand over her mouth to hold the rest back. Maybe it was the ache from the bite on her shoulder or the Draqons circling above or the fact she’d crash-landed on an alien planet and nearly died countless times already, but she choked on another laugh.

  Across the fire, Gerrit scowled deeply at her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she managed. “You think that highly of yourself?”

  “I’m Alpha of the largest, most diverse, and most advanced clan on Kladuu. They’ll need the fucking reinforcements. Trust me.”

  Jude’s laughter died off. Something in his voice sent goose bumps prickling across her skin. In the absence of her laughter, she began to feel gutted, emptied, tired, and her shoulder hurt.

  More quietly than necessary, she asked, “Are they attacking because I killed that man?”

  Across the fire, Gerrit raked a hand through his hair. It was the first sign, tiny though it was, that he was uncomfortable. “He’s not a man. At least, not in the sense you mean. He was an outcast. The other Draqons won’t care about his fate. Your crash probably drew in more patrols, but that’s not your fault. They would have come as soon as they picked up my scent anyway.”

  “Feels like my fault,” Jude muttered. She blinked and saw the man fighting for his life while hanging in the talons of the Draqon, his screams fading. She saw Ivers’s distended belly. She saw Swanson’s face as he left behind his Alpha.

  “It shouldn’t,” Gerrit said, rather unhelpfully.

  Jude blew at a loose piece of hair that had fallen across her eyes. “Anyways, I’m sorry about your men.”

  He was silent for so long Jude thought he wouldn’t answer. The silence stretched to a maddening point, such that she considered jumping to her feet and screaming at him just to see what would happen. But finally, Gerrit asked, “Do you have a family?”

  The question threw Jude off guard. She hadn’t expected anything personal from Gerrit. He hadn’t seemed the type. At the thought of Linnea, Jude’s throat tightened. What must her sister be thinking now that everyone knew Jude had gone missing during her flight test? Would Linnea believe she was dead?

  “A sister,” Jude whispered. “We’re all we’ve got.”

  Her throat pinched unbearably tight. A breath hiccupped out of her mouth. Those damn tears threatened again, and this time, Jude wasn’t strong enough to hold them back.

  Linnea would think she was dead. Her heart would break, and she would be all alone in the world. More than crashing on a strange planet, more than Warren, more than the Draqons, more than getting Gerrit’s men killed, the weight of thinking she’d broken her sister’s heart crushed Jude. It was her job to protect Linnea, not cause her pain, and certainly not to leave her alone.

  She turned her face into her knees and let the tears fall. Finally, she gave herself permission to cry over the horrid, unbelievable day she’d had. She sniffed as quietly as she could, not wanting Gerrit’s pity.

  Across the fire, she caught the faint sound of mutterings and possibly curses under his breath. He probably thought her stupid and weak to be crying like this after his entire squadron had been murdered. Then a damp twig snapped, and she looked up to see Gerrit rounding the flames. She buried her face deeper as he sat beside her.

  He put a reluctant arm around her shoulders, and she lost it.

  Her body shook with tremors and sobs. She cried in that uncontrollable way that made a person feel like they might die from the pain of it, her breath locking in her chest and her mouth gasping. She clenched her lips closed and half suffocated herself to keep from making too much noise. But her chest hurt like someone was crushing her heart in a vise, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Without a word, Gerrit pulled her against his uninjured side. His long arm wrapped completely around her, consuming her into a force field of male warmth and salty smell. Too weak to fight off his comfort, she turned her face into his shoulder and cried all the harder.

  With his other hand, he stroked her hair. The gesture was stiff and mechanical; he clearly didn’t have a whole lot of experience comforting anyone. Jude appreciated it anyway.

  She cried for a while, and he held her throughout. Eventually, his grip relaxed, and he settled into the rhythm of consoling her. Her sobs quieted, but she stayed against him, warm for the first time all night. Eventually, her eyes drifted closed, succumbing to her exhaustion.

  Jude woke alone. Moisture had turned her skin sticky, and a small bug droned around her face.

  She swatted at it and glanced around, her mind two steps behind. It took her a moment to recognize the doused fire, covered by a slab of wet moss, and understand what it meant. She jerked to her feet.

  Gerrit was gone.

  Blind panic made the ground tilt beneath her feet, and she stumbled into the trunk behind her. Streams of morning sun filtered down through the canopy. It was well past dawn. Past their time to sneak away from the camp.

  Had Gerrit left her?

  She was stranded on an unknown planet. Alone. With shape-shifting aliens who liked to kill each other for no apparent reason. She hated herself for it, but she
hadn’t realized how safe Gerrit made her feel until he’d left and she was on her own again.

  Fear bloomed in her chest, and her breathing sped up. She was going to have a panic attack if she didn’t get control of herself. The idea of being alone again, of facing another one of those Draqons by herself, of even trying to get back to her ship, was too overwhelming to consider.

  Her eyes caught on a pile of material beside the fire. She pushed away from the trunk and nudged the pile with the toe of her boot. She recognized Gerrit’s pants. At the bottom, to keep the densely woven material dry, were his boots.

  “What the hell?” Jude glanced around, spinning in a circle. She spotted nothing but trees and dripping ferns.

  A twig snapped across the camp. Jude whirled around.

  A wolf stood on the other side of the covered fire.

  The massive creature tilted its head as it looked at her with the same irritated aura Gerrit exuded. Its fur gleamed silver with traces of black winding through the strands. Ebonite eyes stared at her, waiting. The creature stood too still. Too unmoving. She barely saw it breathe. It didn’t look natural.

  “Gerrit?” she asked in a whisper as a touch of fear coursed from her heart.

  The wolf cocked its head toward the pile of clothes. Jude narrowed her eyes. “You want me to carry your stuff? Really?”

  The wolf huffed out a breath and turned back into the jungle.

  Definitely Gerrit.

  Jude rolled her eyes toward the canopy before grabbing his clothes and stuffing them under her arm. She followed behind him.

  She quickly realized keeping up with him was a harder task than she’d imagined. With his glinting fur, he glided through the canopy’s shadows like smoke, and he moved just as ephemerally. On silent paws, he slunk through the foliage without rustling even one leaf.

  Jude’s harried movements were far less quiet. Cursing under her breath, she kept having to stop and glance around to look for some kind of sign of where he’d gone. He seemed to be spiraling around her, disappearing into the ferns in front of her only to reappear a moment later from the trees behind. He’d drift by with a brush of fur and lead the way into another part of the jungle.