Alien Soulmate (Paranormal Romance Aliens) (8 page)

"Thrin'dak!" Ithril swore in Sitheri as he burst into the Meeting Hall. Six raiding parties, destroyed. Six. They'd been armed to the teeth and sent out under the cover of darkness. Now all of them were dead except for the two males who had managed to make it back and were in the infirmary with several broken bones and wounds that needed closing.

Seventy-two Sitheri had been sent out and only two made it back. And none of them, not one, had taken out a single member of the Des'kos.

It was maddening.

How was it that they managed to be so strong? Ithril didn't understand. Of course, if he confronted their leader about it, he would likely be told that they were dealing with rebels and not the main force, but he didn't buy it for a second. And he couldn't do that anyway. The last thing he needed was to bring the entire might of the Des'kos down on his head when it was this hard to go up against the fringes.

No, he needed a better plan. He needed to think.

Things had not been going according to plan at all. The Council was backing him in his decisions, but he could see that their hearts weren't in it. They nodded to his face, murmured ‘yes, Leader', and did as he told them to, but there was dissent in their eyes. They didn't want to carry out his orders, and he knew it.

On top of that, the other clans were refusing to help him. Many of them had already suffered heavy losses from the Des'kos and their might, and they were reluctant to open themselves up to that again. Even with the promise of Sitheri protection.

So they were no better off than they had been when Angen was alive and in charge.

In fact, they were almost worse off considering how many of their kind had died in the last few days.

He didn't understand it. It shouldn't be this hard. Surely someone had defeated the Des'kos before. They'd rule the entire quadrant otherwise, and that wasn't the case. Maybe he was just going about this in the wrong way. Maybe he needed to be more subtle?

It was so frustrating, and not for the first time, he wished that he had help.

Ithril wished that his brother hadn't been such a peace loving idiot. Carver had a head for these kinds of things. He would have been able to see a plan through this mess and launch some organized force better than Ithril could.

But no. Carver wanted to follow the old ways. He wanted to be just like their father and keep giving things up to the Des'kos until they had nothing left. It infuriated Ithril like nothing else, and he slammed his hand down on the polished surface of the table.

It didn't help that the people were clearly wanting Carver back.

Ithril had heard the mumblings. He'd heard them talking about how Carver would never have allowed this to happen. How he would have kept their sons and daughters safe and prevented this needless death. He'd heard it in the eating rooms and in the infirmary. He'd seen members of the Council exchanging looks. It was clear to see that no one respected his leadership, and that made him angrier than almost anything else about this.

He needed to calm down. Being upset wasn't going to help anything, and if there was one thing he had learned from his father and older brother's examples it was that going into planning with a clear head made everything easier.

And he just hated it that things kept coming around to those two.

Just as he was about to collapse into one of the chairs and maybe think about getting some much needed rest, the door to the hall opened and E'lira stuck her head in.

"Ithril, may I speak to you?"

Ithril hated how quiet she'd become since their father's death and Carver's ‘disappearance', but he couldn't very well tell her that he knew exactly where their older brother was and that he was fine more than likely. He didn't know much about Earth aside from what he had been taught about the planet, but knowing Carver, it was unlikely that he would get killed by mere humans, even if they were a warmongering people.

"Of course, E'lira," he said, gesturing for her to come in. "You don't have to ask."

She smiled at him, and he was pleased to see it. Someday she was going to make a lovely wife for someone. Maybe the first Sitheri male to bring him the head of one of the Des'kos. It would be quite the prize, definitely incentive for them to try harder. Maybe that was what they needed. A little incentive…

He shook that thought from his head and turned his attention back to his sister. "Was there something you needed?"

She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then let out a sigh. "I… I'm worried about you. It seems like you have a lot on your plate that you have to deal with right now, and… and things aren't exactly going according to plan, or so it appears."

Ithril frowned. "And?"

"And I was thinking that perhaps you need some help, Ithril. Father named you can Carver both leaders for a reason. He seemed to think that it was necessary and perhaps he was right. I don't want to see you make yourself ill. And the people have been talking…"

"Oh, I know exactly what the people have been saying. I've heard them, muttering under their breath about how I don't know what I'm doing. Is that what you think, E'lira? You think I don't know what I'm doing? You think I can't handle this? Let me tell you why Father made both of us leader. It was because he didn't want to hurt poor Carver's feelings. Carver's the eldest, so it should have been his, but he knew. Father knew that I would do better. That I would be what this clan needs."

No one else was trying to do anything to help them rise to power and defeat the Des'kos. Everyone else was content to sit back and let the old ways be the only ways. But not him. They needed him.

E'lira set her hand on his shoulder and met his eyes. "I know you think that, Ithril, but what if you're wrong. How much strain can you take? How many more losses can our people take? Perhaps… perhaps you should consider going to find Carver."

And there it was.

Even his sister had betrayed him. Sweet, pretty E'lira was no better than the rest of the Sitheri, probably joining in the whispers, telling people that Carver would have been better at this than him.

"No," he snapped, jerking away from her. "Carver is gone, E'lira. He left and renounced this family when he thought the thing to do was run away. I refuse to look to him for help I don't need. And furthermore? If he comes back here, I'll have him killed. Do you understand me?"

Her eyes were wide with horror, and she backed away from him. "You're losing yourself to your hate, Ithril," she murmured.

"Get out!" Ithril shouted. "Get out right now!"

E'lira fled.

She hadn't anticipated him yelling at her or the conversation going quite that way, but it had done what it needed to do. For one, proved to her that her brother definitely did need Carver's intervention and soon. With the way Ithril's temper was running, it wouldn't be surprising if he ended up angering the Des'kos enough to have them declare war on the Sitheri. They would not survive that.

For another, it had given her enough time to get one of the people she had convinced over to her side into the ship bay. With any luck, a ship would be heading for Carver's location in a matter of minutes.

She closed her eyes and hoped that luck was on her side at the moment because they needed it. "Father, if only…" But no. That wasn't fair. Angen had been suffering, and he deserved his place in the stars. His children would have to figure this out on their own, and she was confident that they could if they could get Carver back. He had always been the voice of wisdom, and she didn't truly believe that Ithril had it in him to kill his brother, no matter what he said.

Either way, she would warn him. Warn him what he was coming back to and what could possibly happen. Other than that, she was going to have to hope for the best.

The woman she had sent to send the transporter walked past her, but she inclined her head slowly. The signal for the deed being done.

At least something had gone right that day. E'lira mused and went to go call Carver and let him know.

"E'lira, you're a wonder," Carver said, sighing with relief. He'd been worried about his sister doing something like this, but he should have known that she could handle it. E'lira was smart and accomplished, and she had a very good head on her shoulders. Though Sitheri females were prized, not many of them had ever been leaders, and Carver understood that. Being a leader was a dangerous job, and most Sitheri didn't want their daughters put into such a position. But Carver couldn't help but think that E'lira would have been a very good leader.

She smiled at him, pushing hair out of her face. "We need you here," she said. "I've been talking to the people, and you're the one they want. I think… I think Ithril has caught on to that, actually. He said…"

Carver was sure that he didn't actually need her to finish that sentence. "Don't worry about it, E'lira. I can handle Ithril, and hopefully things with the Des'kos won't come to a head before I get back."

E'lira worried her lower lip between her teeth. "I'm not sure how much longer we have before they retaliate in truth," she said. "They've been content to just kill the raiding parties so far, and Ithril's been trying to come up with some way to make it seem like the raiders are acting without his orders, but I don't think that's going to work."

"He's blaming the people for this?" Carver demanded. How could he? When he was the one who was sending them to their deaths senselessly to start a war they couldn't win. It made him livid to think that not long after the death of their father who had worked so hard to make sure that the people would be safe, this was where they were. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

"Yes," E'lira replied. "The Council is losing their faith in him and they all think that you've just abandoned your post as leader, and…" she shook her head. "I'm not sure how much longer we can continue like this."

"Well, the ship should be here soon, and I will leave as soon as I've refueled it," Carver assured her. "Just hold on until then. Try to do some damage control if you can. The people love you, and if anyone can do it, it's you."

She smiled at him, and it made Carver happy to see it. "I'll do what I can. I sent you some files and notes that I found when we were going through Father's things recently. They seemed important, so I thought you should have them."

She didn't say that she thought he should have them and not Ithril, but Carver already knew that was what she meant.

"I'll take a look at them. Thank you, E'lira. Be well."

"And you, brother."

Carver disconnected the call and leaned back in his chair. It was troubling news to be sure, but he couldn't say that he had expected anything different. Ithril wasn't level headed enough to be a leader, and Carver cursed himself for not seeing that this would be a problem sooner. He had always given his younger brother the benefit of the doubt, and clearly that had been a mistake.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. There was nothing to be done about that now. Looking backwards did nothing but prevent you from seeing what was coming ahead, as his father had always said to him. Now he had to put his energy into fixing the problems this inattention and his brother's zealous hate for the Des'kos had caused as soon as possible.

His head was buzzing with the need to act, and sitting around on Earth while his people were dying and suffering did not sit well with him, but there was nothing he could do about that, either.

Until the transporter arrived with fuel, he was stuck.

If Vivian had been around, she would have provided a good distraction. More than that, she would have told him that he was already doing all he could. In the time they had spent together, she'd become valuable to him, keeping him from giving in to his anxieties and getting worked up. Her presence was calming and he found himself missing her greatly when she had to go attend to things in her life.

And of course, it wasn't fair for him to expect her to always be there. She had a life of her own, and she'd been going along perfectly fine before he'd shown up, but he couldn't help the way he always wanted to have her near him or to be near her. It was perplexing because he'd never felt anything like it, and he didn't understand where it was coming from.

Needing something to take his mind off of how ridiculous he had become, he pulled up the notes that E'lira had sent him.

Even though they were typed in the same precise characters used for all Sitheri writing, Carver could almost hear his father's voice as he read them over. At first he wasn't sure what he was looking at, but the more he read, the more it seemed like it was some kind of personal journal that his father had kept for years.

There were accounts of attacks on the Sitheri by the Des'kos, notes about casualties and losses, and Angen's own suspicions over who was really leading the rebels who constantly assaulted them.

Carver became absorbed in his reading. According to the notes, his father had been giving the Des'kos the minimum amounts of resources and land that he could get away with and keeping careful notes of everything.

"In case they tried to pull anything," he murmured. There were certain laws that had been in existence longer than either the Sitheri or the Des'kos. Laws that governed every clan that called Khaosali home, and even the Des'kos couldn't break them without expecting punishment from a much higher galactic power.

Scrolling back to a page near the beginning of the journal, Carver settled in to read. It was a pleasant distraction, and knowing what the Des'kos had been up to could only benefit his people in the long run.

But the beginning of the journal wasn't dedicated to the Des'kos.

Carver's brow furrowed as he found himself reading an account of Sitheri mating practices. He'd heard that in the past, it wasn't unheard of for a Sitheri to have a mate, but it hadn't happened in his lifetime, so he'd assumed it was something they'd abandoned.

What he read changed his outlook on that completely. According to his father, Sitheri mating practices went beyond compatibility and desire and moved into the territory of actual, true soul mates. He described the way he'd felt when he'd met his wife, the mother of Carver and his siblings, and how their bond had grown. He talked about his grief when she had been killed, and how it felt like there was a piece of his soul that had been taken from him.

Included were excerpts from accounts that had been written by other Sitheri who had come before Angen and found their own mates. Carver paid close attention to these, noting the pull towards the other person that they all documented feeling.

It was a lot to take in at once. Both the fact that a practice he had considered outdated and irrelevant was clearly still alive and well in some cases and the fact that he seemed to be experiencing some of the same feelings for Vivian that his father had written about feeling for his mother.

Carver remembered how in love his parents had been and how natural things had seemed between them. They could communicate an entire conversation in one look, and no one else had ever seemed to have a relationship like that.

On the one hand, it frightened him that he could feel this way about someone he barely even knew, but on the other hand…

On the other hand, it felt like something was clicking into place.

Before he had too much time to think on it, the door was opening, and Vivian was sticking her head in. "Hey," she said, grinning at him. "I knocked, but I don't think you were paying attention. Any news?"

She had taken to asking that every day when she showed up, eyes alight with wanting to know when he'd be able to go home.

Carver had to shake himself in order to get his head back on straight and answer the question. "Yes, actually. I just spoke with my sister. She sent the transporter, and it should be here sometime tomorrow."

Vivian's smile was amazingly bright, and she practically threw herself across the room to hug him around the neck. "That's wonderful! I'm glad it's working out. I'm glad E'lira didn't get caught. I'll miss you, though. When you're off saving your people."

Just as quickly as she was hugging him, she was backing away, cheeks pink. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all up in your personal space there. I just got excited." 

He was on her in a matter of seconds. In the back of his head, it occurred to him to slow down, to ask her permission before he kissed her as thoroughly as he wanted to, but he couldn't seem to make his hands stop moving. They slid over her waist and down to her hips, and he pulled her against him, marveling at how tiny she was. She was over a foot shorter than he was, and since Sitheri females were so tall in general, Carver had expected her height to put him off.

It didn't.

Instead, it ignited a fierce desire to claim her and protect her. It was almost primal now that they were touching, and he thought about his father's notes and the way he had described himself as being helplessly pulled towards Carver's mother. Almost as if he'd never had a choice. And never wanted one.

"W-what are you doing?" Vivian murmured, but she was going onto her toes, her hands warm through his shirt where the pressed against his chest. She didn't seem to be trying to push him away, though. Instead she was pulling herself more towards him, and Carver took that as a good sign.

"You are so beautiful he murmured," head dipping down to meet hers. "I… I think of you often."

A smile flashed across her lips at that, and it was breathtaking. He couldn't resist anymore, and he leaned the rest of the way down, capturing her lips with his own.

The noise she made into his mouth was hardly one of protest, and Carver took that as encouragement, one hand moving to the small of her back as he pulled her even closer and laid claim to her mouth.

He kissed her like he had never kissed any other woman before her.

He kissed her like he wanted to pour his soul, his heart into her and take hers in return. Like he wanted to meld them together so tightly that no force in the universe would be able to separate them.

It was a dizzying, unexpected feeling, but he couldn't deny how right it felt all the same.

Their mouths moved together for seconds that felt like hours, and when Vivian parted her lips, Carver was there to press his tongue inside, learning the contours and crevices of her mouth. He knew that realistically speaking, they weren't going to have much time. It took about thirty eight hours for a transport to reach Earth with the current fuel and light speed travel systems in place, and some of that time had already passed. But he wanted to make the best of this, in case it never happened again.

"Do you want this?" he whispered, breath harsh against her lips. "Do you want me?"

"Yes," Vivian said back, nodding fervently. Her eyes were wide and dark with want, and he could practically taste it when her lips moved against his. "I want it. I want you. I don't… I don't usually do this, so I don't understand, but I want you so much."

"There is a reason," Carver replied. "My people believe in mates. Soul mates that were born to be together."

Her eyes were incredulous. "You think we're soul mates?"

Clearly this was not a thing they had on Earth. "What do you feel for me?" he asked instead.

"I… I want to be with you. I feel like. Like I always want to be around you, and when we're together, it's like…" She struggled for a word, but Carver already knew.

"It's like you're whole," he murmured.

She nodded.

"That is what it means to find one's mate. Let me show you?"

There was hesitation still clear on her face, but Vivian nodded. At least she was willing to trust him, willing to believe that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. In truth, she could probably feel his intention. His father hadn't gone into detail about the levels of connection between mates, but Carver was sure that what he wanted was written all over his face. And judging from how tight his pants currently were, Vivian could probably feel what he wanted from her.

And she was willing.

He led her back into the bedroom, taking his time as his hands worked over her clothes and then under them, touching her warm, soft skin and relishing the opportunity to do so. She was beautiful, and she was giving herself to him in this moment.

Carver undressed her slowly, each piece of clothing falling to the floor as he removed it. Her underthings were lovely, but he barely took time to admire them, instead peeling them off with the rest and leaving them in a pile.

She undressed him next. Unhooking and undoing clasps and letting his clothes fall with hers. There was none of the nervousness that usually came with having a new partner, instead it was all eager fingers and questing mouths.

They made it onto the cot with relative ease, and Carver rolled them so that he was on top of her, pinning her down and letting his mouth taste what his hands had already thoroughly explored.

Her hands reached for his cock, stroking it to full hardness, and she groaned when his mouth closed around one dusky nipple.

Carver was losing himself to this.

To the sensations that threatened to pull him under. He didn't even want to fight it, and as he finally, finally sank into her body, a low groan pulled from him at the complete feeling of rightness that he was left with, he realized that he didn't want to let this go.