Rescued By Tordin: Olodian Alien Warrior Romance (6 page)

It took a moment for her to comprehend what he said. She tilted her head down and back a few times and smiled. She said, “I knew a miracle would show up!” Then her entire being perked up as she spoke. “I’m fine. Please, please, you have to find and rescue my friend, Phoebe. She’s trapped under fallen debris, and we don’t have much time. Please find her,” she pleaded, grasping at the material of Malm’s protective suit.

He still hadn’t removed his helmet, because the air quality was almost unbreathable. She began to look drowsy again, like she would pass out once more. He then realized she’d taken off her breathing mask. Before she lost consciousness again, he placed it back over her ears and waited for her to regain enough awareness to give him more information.

Within a moment her eyes opened, and he proceeded to get more information from her.

“What is your designator?” he asked, not sure that was the right word.

“Oh, you mean my name? My name is Kyra Simmons, and yours?” she asked, appearing to have regained some of her energy.

“I am Malm. My team is here to help you. Would you like to leave this vessel? It’s failing. If so, please follow my warrior to the Jump transport. We cannot stay here too much longer.”

He attempted to pass her off to the nearest team member when she stood her ground and said, “Yes, please help me. It’s my friend. You have to find her. Her name—um, designator—is Phoebe, Doctor Phoebe Brown. Please find her. I’m not going anywhere until you find her.”

He watched in fascination as the little Terrain spoke with strength and purpose. She was unique, even from his experience of interacting with countless beings from different galaxies. He would locate her friend and get them safely to the ship. They were both female and fell under the protocol. She had asked for help, and they were now within the mandate of the Alliance to bring them on board the mother ship. His Sire would not have to stand trial for breaking any laws.

“Malm, can you hear me?” Tordin’s voice came through his vo-link loud and clear.

Malm subvocalized his reply as not to scare the tiny Terrain in front of him. “Yes, Sire, I can. We have found one female in fairly good health and a rapidly expiring male so far. She has asked for help for her and her companion female, who we will search for now.”

“Thank you for knowing why I called. And thank you, Malm, for following protocol. She asked for help, and you have the documentation of that?”

“Yes, Sire. She is right here and will board the Jump once we locate her female… friend.”

“Ah yes, a friend is a companion who is close, like you and me,” Tordin said, helping Malm with the term, as he spoke more languages fluently than all of them put together. “I’ll release the line for you to carry on, but understand you have only minutes to find and clear the vessel. We have run a scan. There are only two more beings with vital signs. One is in the area where you are now, and the other is one and a half levels above you in a passage way. There are no other vital signs in the entire vessel.”

Malm felt the pain of what his Lord spoke. Other Terrain had died on this vessel. He had to hurry if the other female was in danger. The air quality was almost unbreathable. He responded to Tordin, continuing to subvocalize his reply. “Yes, the other one here is expiring rapidly.”

“No, there is another still. Vitals are as strong as the female with you. That one appears to be hiding close by. Use the portable scanner to locate it, and be careful.”

“Yes, Sire. Will make haste to get these three on board now.”

“I’ll meet you when you return for a debriefing, Malm,” Tordin said before he broke the communication link.

Malm wasted no time putting the team into action.

“Jalek, I have an assignment for you. There is a female located one and a half levels up. She is most likely injured and covered with debris. You will need to give her the breathing mask as soon as you locate her. Take Surt with you to retrieve her and bring her to the Jump. Make haste, as the vessel is very unstable. You have…” he checked the environmental conditions to be as accurate as possible, “six clicks to return with her. Move!”

Malm watched Jalek and Surt hurry to find the other female. Then he gave similar orders to another team member to locate the other being hiding in this area. He and his second waited with the female who was fighting bouts of unconsciousness.

K
yra was ecstatic
. Help had come, albeit most likely athletic Russian cosmonauts, but help nonetheless. The events of the day had taken their toll, and she was tired, struggling to stay awake. She didn’t try to speak as she stood there with these two very big and tall men, waiting for Phoebe to be found.

The oxygen mask was a welcome relief. She hadn’t realized how much the air had deteriorated until this large man had placed the mask on her. Then she remembered Mark. He needed a mask, as well. When she turned to find him, her heart sank. She could tell from where she stood that his soul had left his body. He lay in a crumpled mass against the same wall he’d been thrown against before these men showed up. There was no condensation forming in the mask from his breathing. She wanted to cry and hit something.

The commander was dead. He was so close to being rescued like she’d told him. She’d failed to help him stay with her just a few minutes longer. What if she hadn’t turned her back to leave? This was so unfair, and she wanted to take it out on something or someone. The thought of Brantley crossed her mind again. It was all his fault. That one little, sniveling idiot managed to take out an entire space station. Kyra wasn’t sure whether he’d made it off the station or not, but she hoped he got his just deserts for this.

“No, don’t let her see me. She’ll try to kill me! You have to help me. Keep her away from me, please!”

Kyra spun around to see the object of her murderous rage. “Brantley! I’m going to kill you!” She lunged at him before the tall one named Malm had a chance to catch her.

Kyra managed to land four or five good punches before the men pulled her off him. Brantley cowered and hid himself behind one of the men.

“Keep her away from me. I told you she would try to kill me.”

“You bet I will. You did this! It’s all because of you. You killed the commander! Brantley, you need to pay for what you’ve done.” She ran toward him again only to go airborne in the arms of the strong Malm. She had the quick thought that these men must be body-builders, but at the moment she had Brantley to kill.

“What has this male done that has upset you so, Kyra?” Malm asked.

Since she still could not see his face, she had to gather from his tone that he wanted to stay impartial. She wasn’t having it. Brantley didn’t deserve to be rescued. He didn’t deserve to breathe the air they were giving him. She looked at him in utter disgust as he took in huge gulps of oxygen and attempted to hide behind one of the giants.

She directed her response to Malm. “This one is responsible for all this,” she said waving a hand around the engine room. “He’s the reason we’re in this mess. He killed our commander. Look at him, Brantley. He’s dead!” she screamed, pointing to the commander’s still form against the wall. “How does it feel to know you killed him and who knows how many others? Do you feel powerful enough now? Huh?” Her skin felt white-hot with emotion.

The commander died, but Brantley lived to be rescued? That was the epitome of tragedy.

Before she could launch further into the tirade she felt bubbling up into her chest on how she was going to do everything in her power to have him prosecuted for this, heavy footsteps drew closer.

Kyra turned to see two more of the big men running back; one of them carried Phoebe in his arms. She broke away from Malm, managing to kick Brantley hard in the shin, and dashed over to her friend before anyone could stop her. Phoebe wasn’t conscious, but Kyra could see the condensation from her breath within the oxygen mask.

“Is she all right?” Kyra asked the one holding her.

He hesitated and then with very short words that seemed disjointed and fragmented, he said, “Her deep sleep. Healing have to be.”

Kyra felt a large hand on her shoulder and guessed Malm was standing there. When he spoke, her suspicions proved correct.

“It’s time, Kyra. Follow me, and we will make sure you are seen by our healers.”

“I don’t need that, I’m fine. Just do me a favor. Make sure you help my friend Phoebe and…” she swiveled to lock eyes with Brantley again, “keep him far away from me, lest I kill him where he stands.”

Malm took a moment, as if subvocalizing with someone. He made a gesture with his head and said, “As you wish. We will keep the male away from you. Now follow us. This station is about to fail completely.”

She took a few steps following behind Malm when the Station tilted again, and she fell head-first into his back. She was so tired, but they had been rescued. This day was over, and she and Phoebe had lived. She finally gave in to the dark pull of sleep and let it wash over her.

H
e moved slowly
, taking his time climbing up the length of the bed to capture her body. She lay there watching and marveling at the ripple and play of muscle across the broad expanse of his large chest and arms. He was huge in a muscular, athletic way.

Breath begged to enter her oxygen-starved lungs as she waited to be taken by this beautiful man. When he drew close enough to cover her with his massive body, in an act of complete surrender she opened her arms and beckoned to him. She knew she trusted him completely.

His astounding strength was evident when he bent down in a seductive half push-up over her. His full, warm lips brushed feather-light kisses across her forehead and down to her eyelids, nose and cheeks. He was playing with her in a slow, torturous tease.

Flashes raced through the neurotransmitters firing messages of excitement and passion through her body. She was connected to him through his kisses and his essence in this intimate exchange, and she never wanted to let go.

He was so close, maybe even inside her soul with his penetrating presence. Even though he barely touched her, she was completely his for the taking. His addictively fragrant scent wrought havoc with her ability to process anything but want, need and passion. Every slight move he made caused tremors of excitement to run through her entire being. Her hand reached up of its own accord, seeking out his flesh to touch, investigating its wonderful composition. The firm, smooth skin and hardened muscle of his bicep greeted her as her hand caressed his arm.

This was her freedom. He knew and understood her like no other had before. Without her usual fear of touching another, she ran fingertips along the ridge of his collarbone. To her great delight, vibrations rippled through his body and into her touch as he let out a deep, throaty growl of pleasure.

Heat from his body lapped against her own, teasing a gentle moan from her in answer. His assault of kisses marched down her cheeks and onward to settle upon her waiting lips. She was hungry for his kiss and moaned at the sweet torture he inflicted on her. How was she going to survive it?

The press of warm, full, masculine lips to her own sent fire through her body. On instinct, she arched up to meet him, and her arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to her supine position. In welcome answer, his large body blanketed hers as he lay on top of her, still holding back his full weight. She felt small in comparison to him, yet womanly and appreciated as his piercing gray eyes took in every inch of her face. She relished the feel of his weight, at least that which he allowed to press against her, pinning her in a sweet take-down. Yes, finally Kyra felt safe, protected and wanted.

A wayward lock of raven hair, so dark it looked blue, fell from his hairline to tickle her forehead as he continued to explore and tease her lips with the sweetest kisses she’d ever experienced. What was he doing to her? She never knew a kiss to be this emotionally binding and sexually satisfying. His alluring scent enveloped her, eliciting sighs and moans of pleasure, taking her to heights she’d never known. Was it possible for passion to be so good it was painful?

She wanted to weep, laugh, cry and scream in this moment. It felt like he touched her soul and spirit with his kiss. Kyra meshed with him as one being when he gathered her into his arms to hold her closer. They lay together in that embrace. Could this amalgamation of feelings last forever? She sure hoped so.

Please let this never end. It feels so good and right
, her heart sang as she fell deeper into him.

Her breasts were crushed against his massive, strong chest. Together they beat out a symphony of heartbeats in answer to one another as he intensified the kiss. He was her dominant, take-charge sex god. She wanted nothing more than to give him her all in response. She was ready. Kyra wanted him to fill her with himself. She wanted him inside her.

She felt his deep intake of breath as he rose ever so slightly to capture her gaze again with his amazing eyes. They sparkled like many-faceted diamonds. She could see something beyond want in them. It was too powerful to articulate, as if he asked something of her that was more than she could comprehend.

This—whatever it was—and the purity of it scared her the longer he held her gaze. It sought to convey something to her that was bigger than the both of them, so brilliant and intense. Kyra was alive, as if ruled by a bolt of lightning. A vast electric life force coursed between them. It weaved some kind of eternal bond through them, in and out of them. She fought the urge to look away, but his gaze bore light and examination into her. His essence probed her to her depths, where nothing could be hidden.

Would she be able to withstand the scrutiny? Would he still want her if he saw all of her? All the flaws and ugly parts were there, ready to be laid bare. Shivers of fear shook her to the core. He would see her.

She dared to look back at him and felt a range of true emotions all at once. Love, insecurity, trust, shame, excitement, guilt, loyalty, desperation, joy and longing—all juxtapositions warring with one another, caught in the swirling vortex of intensity they shared. The power of it threatened to make her heart leap out of her chest as her heartbeat accelerated.

In tune with her, he placed a hand on her heart and leaned down again to capture her mouth with his once more. This time she felt a transfer of something akin to a quick electrical shock. She startled and jumped at the sensation. What was he doing to her?

K
yra woke
with a sharp intake of breath. This time the dream felt too real. It was a dream, right? The way her body had writhed and moved in response to her dream lover was more intense. She swore she could still feel the touch of his hands and mouth. And the moisture between her thighs was undeniable.

Kyra squeezed her eyes shut again, hoping it would clear up her sleep-fogged, passionate state. After a few more minutes, she knew it was no use. Her body still hummed with passion and wanted release—release that could only come from him. The dream was too real, and it almost frightened her how strong the effect was.

Once her eyes opened again and decided to play nice by focusing, she chanced a look around. Nothing looked right. And what was she lying on? Nothing felt right, either. She felt sore and disjointed, and her orientation was off. These surroundings didn’t add up. Where was she? Kyra continued to lie there, allowing herself to emerge from the haze of what felt like an exceptionally deep sleep. As if her brain was attempting to reboot and come back online, the events leading up to now replayed across a screen in her mind’s eye.

Brantley, the space station, the commander, death and rescue were the prevalent thoughts that came to the forefront. The room’s warm, dim lighting was not enough to soften the emotional blow when all the memories came rushing back.

Oh God, where was Phoebe?

She had to find out if the Russian cosmonauts were taking them home or to their own country. She started planning her tasks. She had to locate Phoebe, find out their current location, make contact with the surface to give a report, have Brantley arrested for causing the deaths of so many on board the station and… locate some clothes.

At that moment she became keenly aware of two things. One, she wasn’t wearing her own clothes. It felt more like a light sheet or weirdly shaped gown. And two, she wasn’t alone. The sensation of being watched edged into her consciousness. Instead of giving in to the panic that wanted to take over, she practiced the deep breathing patterns that had helped her remain calm in stressful situations all her life. Were they friend or foe?

She attempted to sit up, and the sore stiffness of every muscle in her body wrenched a painful yelp from deep in her throat. Before she could try again, two very large men were at either side of the massive, soft form she lay upon. They must have sensed the overload of fear she gave off at seeing them rushing toward her, because as if on cue, both stopped and waited.

Kyra dared to look at the one to her right and gasped when her eyes met his face. He was huge and… almost too handsome to be real, except for the white line of a scar that traveled from just above the start of his very pronounced left cheekbone to his jawline. Perhaps it needed to be there to make him appear real.

With softening eyes so green they looked like emeralds, he smiled down at her. Did he know her? Why was this hunk of a man in here with her? The old, familiar shyness that came on her when she was in the presence of a hot, attractive man rushed over her. She pulled the material up to her chin as if it could aid her in speaking up. After taking another breath for courage and hoping her voice wouldn’t fail her, she attempted to speak.

“Where am I?” she asked, noting the roughness of her timid voice. She hated that. It was time to be confident and strong, not timid. She didn’t know where she was, and she needed answers.

The emerald-eyed stranger spoke with a slightly familiar yet almost inhumanly deep voice. “You are aboard the mother ship of the Olodian fleet led by his highness, the Warrior Lord Tordin. I am Malm. We met onboard your failed vessel.”

Okay, so this was Malm, and he was sexy as hell! Then she took a longer look at him and decided he didn’t look Russian, either. Maybe Greek? His features were almost ethereal like the portrayals of the ancient Greek gods. Who knew? Malm was a total stud!

Get your mind right, girl. You are on a space craft going God knows where, and you’re checking out your rescuer—all while you’re practically naked under this sheet thing
. She scolded herself as a way to break the trance his presence induced.

“Malm, did you say an Oolong or Oolongian fleet? I’ve never heard of that place, just the tea.”

His chuckle managed to put her at ease. She then looked to her left to see another stud muffin. This one looked younger but had the weirdest colored eyes. They were purple against his olive tan complexion, and long, medium-brown hair framed his face like a rock star.

She didn’t know Greeks could look this hot up close… or that they had a space program. Maybe they’d rebounded more than anyone thought from their twenty-first century financial chaos. The younger one gave her a breath-snatchingly gorgeous smile, and she blushed in return.

She was such a spaz!

Malm’s deep voice drew her attention back to him. He spoke with a hint of laughter in his tone. “No, Kyra, I said Olodia from the galaxy of the same name.” He paused, and she noted the change back to all seriousness. After a breath’s beat he added, “Kyra, we are not of your world or galaxy. Our fleet was near the outer fringes of your galaxy when we intercepted your distress call and came to assist you. When your vessel failed, you and two other Terrains were brought on board our mother ship by order of Lord Tordin himself. You are safe under his and his father’s, the Emperor’s, protection. It is my truthful pledge, nothing harmful will befall you.”

Aliens. That was the only word floating around her mind now. Aliens! She had managed to get herself beamed up to a freaking alien spacecraft of movie star supermen. Great! Dorothy and Toto had nothing on this wrap.

She spoke, more to herself than anyone. “Now you’ve really done it. Olodian from the Olodian galaxy? I don’t even know how to begin to find that on any star map. This is going to be a good dream when I finally wake up.” As if to test the theory that she was still in a dream, she attempted to sit up more.

Strong hands from either side gently helped her up as a cushion was placed against her back. On a whim, she reached out and pinched Malm’s forearm.

“Yes? That gesture is a little painful, Kyra. What does it mean?” he asked, and she yelped in spite of herself.

“Oh no! This isn’t a dream? I’m really here? You…and you, too,” she said, motioning to the amethyst-eyed hottie, “you’re both real? Say something. What is the capital of the United States?”

The other one answered this time. “It is the District of Columbia, more commonly known as Washington, D. C.”

“Ha! Got you. You are human,” she said and eyed him suspiciously. He was surreal in his beauty, but he looked like he could be a huge human. Nah, they weren’t aliens, couldn’t be. Aliens don’t exist. Then she wondered if this was for some crazy video segment for the surface’s entertainment pleasure. She wouldn’t put it past the space council as a way to continue to garner support for the expensive space program they ran.

Kyra looked around, searching for hidden cameras and said to the air, “I’m onto you. I’m not some puppet you can string along. Was that bastard Brantley part of this sick experiment? Where is everyone? The gig is up. Bring out the crew and stop playing around.”

Malm and the other man exchanged looks of concern and then looked back to her.

“Jalek, get one of the healers in here to check her for fever. She seems to be in some sort of mental torment.”

“Hey, I can hear and understand you. That’s not going to scare me. Stop playing around, Malm, or whatever your real name is. I’m not feverish—feel my forehead.”

He obeyed and placed the back of an enormous hand up to her forehead. After a moment he removed it and spoke to the other man in a language she couldn’t make out. The other one,
Jay-lick
was what she thought she heard Malm call him, left the room.