A big hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to find Beauty at his side. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed in reassurance. Skinny nodded, his throat thick as Tal worked on the woman he loved.
“Please, little mouse,” he begged, aching to touch her. To hold her... “You have to fight this and come back to me. Don’t let him win. You’re stronger than this. I know you are.”
He didn’t know how long he sat there, watching and waiting as the former imperial medic worked on the tiny woman on the bed. Then it was done, the bed snapped off and she lay there, barely moving.
“I’ve done all I can do,” the medic said in a low voice. “The rest is up to her. She has to want to come back. To recover.”
The instant the bed’s discs cut off, Skinny moved, dragging his chair closer. At the last moment, before he touched her, he looked up at Tal.
“You can stay with her,” the big medic said, an understanding smile on his face. “Do not move her, but you can stay. If any of these alarms go off, let me know right away. Understand?”
17
The others filed out, but Skinny didn’t hear them. All his attention was focused on the slender figure of his mate on the bed. He hadn’t asked her to be his mate. They hadn’t said the words, but she was his mate in every way that mattered. They were married, in the human tradition, so that made her his mate. He’d kill anyone who claimed otherwise.
“Marika, kelarris,” he whispered, smoothing her hair from her face with a soft touch. “Please, darling, come back to me. I love you.”
She looked like a sleeping angel, her dark hair around her head like a halo. She appeared so peaceful he didn’t want to wake her and bring her back to this. His heart clenched. She’d wanted to end it, had begged him to kill her… would she thank Tal for bringing her back or curse him?
He flicked a glance down to her throat where he saw the thinnest scar—a mark she would have for the rest of her life to remind her that her own father had tried to kill her. His heart clenched as he gathered her tiny hand in his own.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were,” he murmured in the softest voice. He had no idea why he was talking. He didn’t even know if she could hear him, if she’d even want to listen, but he needed to tell her.
“I knew you didn’t realize. Knew you thought we were Edanian. I wanted to tell you, sweetheart… but, humans think we’re monsters.” He shuddered at the memory of the newsfeeds and reports Tank had showed him. “They think we’re just after humans for breeders. We aren’t, my love. At least, I’m not. I just want you. I mean…” he backtracked suddenly, just in case she was the maternal type. “If you want young, I’m happy to put as many of them as you want in your belly. Be happy to—”
The sudden image of a tiny little girl with his blonde curls and her mama’s big amber eyes filled his mind and his heart clenched. He wanted that. Wanted it so draanthing much he ached.
“We’re Lathar,” he admitted, stroking his thumb over the back of her knuckles. She was so tiny and delicate, way too good for a rough heavy-worlder farmer like him. “Well, I am… some of the others aren’t full Lathar… but I am. I’m a heavy-worlder, adapted for life in the reaches. It’s a range of planets out in…” he chuckled a little. “Well, you’d say they were out in the sticks and then some. They’re wild and beautiful. I’d love to take you there someday.”
The idea of taking her home felt right to him.
“I haven’t been there for years. I lost my family. I lied then as well,” he admitted in a low voice, the words pouring from his heart.
“I was young… fourteen. I lied when I said I would patrol the northern edge of the property. We’d been having problems with local gangs. It was just small stuff. A little stock rustling, outbuildings set on fire, that kind of thing. And I’d just discovered what girls were all about,” he admitted, even though telling his mate about youthful indiscretions wasn’t perhaps the best idea. “The ranch next to ours had a daughter, Liiavas. We’d arranged to meet in their barn. And… well,” he cleared his throat. “You can guess the rest.”
He looked up, staring out of the medbay window as he recounted the rest of the sorry tale. It didn’t reflect well on him.
“Only this time the gang wasn’t interested in small stuff. They wanted my sisters, but not for any honorable reason. When I got back, they were all dead. My two sisters, my mother… my father. They’d fought with everything they had but—”
His breathing caught at the memory, still sharp after all this time. His mother and sisters had been brutalized, raped, and his father tortured and then shot through the head.
“But one thing those reports are right about. I am a killer,” he admitted, tracing the delicate lines of her fingers with his thumb. Her bones were so small and delicate. He had to be careful to moderate his strength with her in case he hurt her. “I tracked down the males responsible, but I didn’t just kill them. I made them suffer. I made them suffer for hours before I granted them the release of death.”
He shuddered and bowed his head. If he’d suspected she wouldn’t want anything to do with him before, he was certain of it now. If she survived, he’d let her go and get her settled on a peaceful planet somewhere, safe from her father.
The tiny movement of her fingers against his made him catch his breath, and he looked up. Wide amber eyes watched him but without any of the fear he’d expected. Nor condemnation.
“You…” Her voice was raspy and she coughed a little.
Instantly he was there, holding her in his arms and helping her to sit up as he reached for a glass of water. “Here, drink slowly.”
He helped her drink from the glass, holding it to her lips as she sipped slowly and then winced and rubbed at the front of her throat.
“Careful,” he advised, totally focused on her. “Tal just finished healing you. You’ll be a little sore for a while.”
She nodded, handing him the glass and then resting against him. His heart thrilled at the way she leaned into him so trustingly, even as it raged at the reason she was so tired.
“Healing takes it out of you,” he told her as she rested her head against his shoulder. “You need rest.”
She looked up at him. “You’re not a monster…”
“I mean, I don’t think you’re a monster,” Marika continued in a soft voice, watching Altav carefully. She’d come back around to the sound of his deep voice and heard his heartbreaking confession.
“You were only fourteen… you were a child,” she whispered, aghast at everything he’d been through.
He shook his head. “It would be easy to say that and try to excuse myself. I was physically mature at twelve.”
She didn’t ask what he meant by that. The small look in his eye was more than enough. Obviously Lathar matured faster than humans.
“Physically, yes… but emotionally? Even an adult would struggle with losing their entire family that way.” Eyes wide, she reached up to brush her fingers against his cheek.