“You’re staring,” he said, voice gruff even when pitched soft and intimate. I shrugged, enjoying all the twinges in the right places, down to the hint of stubble burn on the insidesof my thighs. So what? According to Ulinial custom, he was my mate now, or husband as the humans would call it. I still had to mark him with my family sigil, but that could come later. Normally, the female would receive the sigil of her male, but Thatcher didn’t have one. It kind of pleased me to mark him mine, to adopt him intomyfamily. Thatcher had no one else, no family, and no male should live that way.
“So?” I said when he arched one eyebrow and slowly opened his eyes to stare at me. I liked how dark and deep they were, a brown like velvet and gold combined. Very unique, very exotic. He did that half-smile thing that always drove me crazy, and nerves—a spark of pleasure—it all fluttered in my belly. We should have done this ages ago, and now I wondered why I’d been resisting his company so much. Nothing but a misplaced need for independence. This was exactly the kind of bond a Ulinial searched for all their life. The core of family, of home.
The moment shifted suddenly from peaceful to frantic. I wasn’t ready for that kind of change. “Damn it, I’m being called to the ready room. It appears we’re approaching a Rummicaron outpost, and our targets have been sighted.” I blinked at Thatcher as he sat up and rose from the bed, gloriously naked. How did he know all that when his comm device was on the floor with the rest of his clothes? It was a mystery, and I was, unfortunately, not getting any answers right now.
He was rapidly getting dressed, leaving me scrambling to follow suit. I was pretty sure he would have just stalked from the room without a backward glance, but I caught him by the arm and halted him in his tracks at the last moment. “I made a better suit of armor for you,” I breathed. “Messageme when you’re done with the briefing, and I’ll bring it.” His eyes flashed, warmed, and something that could almost be described as tenderness filled them.
“You made new armor?” he asked. His hand went to his left shoulder, almost thoughtlessly—a reminder that, during his encounter with the entity, its acid attack had eaten clear through the black metal carapace. He wore a spare suit now, and he had not asked me for a new one at all, as if he didn’t even expect that kind of resupply. Perhaps it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he’d need a new one—a better one—than the much more standard suit he was wearing now.
“Yes, of course I did. Thatch, be careful, okay? I heard all about this Shadow Unit gladiator guy, but he’s nothing like you. Remember that, okay? You are not him.” I was really certain I had to say that to him, even if he did not speak of it himself. He didn’t think he was good enough, or safe enough, to be my mate. It was no leap to realize he might think he could turn into just such a killer as the male they were chasing now.
Thatcher didn’t respond, not in words. He did dip his head, cupped my neck with a big fist, and kissed me. Then he was gone, jogging from my quarters in an easy lope despite the fact that his left foot and lower leg were a robotic prosthesis. That reminded me, I should look at those specs again, too, see if I couldn’t improve on them. He’d fidgeted with the leg throughout the night, as if it grew stiff when resting.
Ducking back into my quarters, I showered in a rush, then dressed even faster. My braid was still wet when I left, my fingers flying through the strands as I walked to redo it. My mind spun as I contemplated what Ihad to do to fine-tune my upgrades to the new armor I’d created for him. Not much, I was pretty certain I had the right composition of alloys now to resist the entity’s acid. Did I still need to tweak the left leg of the suit to better accommodate his prosthetic?
“Hello, Ysa,” Ivo greeted me as soon as I stepped into the engine room. He wore a shit-eating grin on his red face, his short black hair a spiky mess. Even though I knew he’d outgun me with his four hands, I flicked him a rude finger gesture.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, you bastard,” I warned him. “Where’s Grunn? Is he on the mission with Thatcher?” It was possible; both Grunn and Ivo were excellent fighters as well as engineers. They were often called for missions, but rarely both at the same time. Ivo nodded, giving me the sourest expression. I would not be surprised if they’d wrestled for the task, and he’d lost this time.
“Grunn is at the briefing, but I’m going too. It’s all hands on deck for this one. Are you going to be okay, alone in here?” I scowled, channeling my best impression of Thatcher’s grumpiness. It just made Ivo laugh, far from impressed. “Fine, just… be careful, okay? I know that entity is gone, but you’re not exactly a fighter, and I don’t trust things yet.”
I hated that he echoed the same sentiment that slumbered at the back of my mind. It did not feel like we could stop being vigilant just because it appeared we had defeated our hostile stowaway. Which meant I liked it even less that Thatcher was leaving to be on this mission. I knew he had to go; he was the expert, the only one with a true understanding of what they were up against. If both Ivo and Grunn weregone, that meant I was all alone in here, and even without a threat, I hated being alone.
The armor I’d been working on for Thatcher was on my workbench, exactly where I’d left it. I rushed to finalize the upgrades, ran a few more simulations and tests, but ultimately, only an actual attack would prove whether it worked. There wasn’t time for more, and when Ivo came to say goodbye, I hurried to grab the suit and follow him to the shuttle bay. Damn it, why hadn’t Thatcher messaged me?
Except he did, as promised, when Ivo and I were halfway there. Relief flooded me, and a bit of happiness buzzed through my veins, too. For the first time, it truly felt like he and I were in sync, working together as a team. That message proved he could be thoughtful, that he didn’t just blatantly ignore what I said. He just didn’t listen when I told him to go away. I smiled, and then my smile grew because he came around the corner and our eyes locked.
Sure, practically every grunt and officer aboard the ship was filing into the hangar bay. We were far from alone, but I only had eyes for him. Normally, this was when I prepped the shuttles and oversaw the loading of the weaponry Jaxin had prepared. This morning, I waved at Ivo, and he scurried off to do it in my stead with a grin and a nod.
Breathlessly, I waited for Thatcher to reach me, then held out the new set of armor for him. “I’ll make it even better when you get back, but this should already be an improvement on what you’re wearing,” I told him. His eyes gleamed; he did not even glance at the armor I was holding out, and then he had me by the back of my neck. His mouth crushed mine, his kiss much like the first one,a claim, a dare. A reminder not just to me but to anyone looking that I had claimed him and he had claimed me.
As quickly as the kiss had begun, it ended. A sense of urgency filled the hangar bay, making it impossible to linger. Unlike last time, during my bold claim in the gym, hardly anyone paid attention to us. I didn’t kid myself into thinking they’d already gotten used to it; the males all just had better things to do than stare and gossip. Even Thatcher had a task. He rudely told Tass it was going to have to wait a moment, then ducked behind some crates to switch from his old armor to the new set I’d brought. Barely concerned about privacy at all, but I stoically didn’t look, because the last thing I wanted was to get caught ogling my male by a dozen mercenaries.
Flack came to stand next to me a few moments later. Not close, definitely not even within touching range of his thick, fluffy white tail. I’d been told, on numerous occasions, that Sune like Flack were like the foxes on Earth. Except Flack could choose to look almost human, entirely like a fox, or take a hybrid form somewhere in between. Currently, he was in his hybrid shape, which made him taller, with a pointed snout full of sharp teeth. He also had big, pointed ears he could rotate to help locate sound. Thick, white fur covered him, while black edged his ears and threaded through his plumed tail.
“Isn’t it an Ulinial custom for the male to do the braid-lassoing?” he remarked. He wore the specialized black armor I’d created for him, its expanding properties allowing the suit to accommodate any shape he chose to take, whether on four legs or two. His glacial blue eyes seemed extra dramatic linedwith black, but his expression was all teasing, his grin mischievous.
I shrugged. “He doesn’t have one, and he didn’t know. I improvised.” Then an idea sparked in my head, one I was certain had already crossed the far-too-clever quartermaster’s mind. This was why he was here. Not to tease, not to congratulate me, or poke at the way I’d gender-bent a ritual as old as time. No, he knew I would need something, and he was just the male to get it for me.
“Can you get hold of a traditional Ulinial family book?” I asked him breathlessly. It was a leather-bound, priest-blessed, blank little booklet handed to a newly mated pair. In it, the couple could write down their family ties, their children, and all the places they’d been. A history of the nuclear family they were about to create; and to a Ulinial, family was everything. That booklet was traditionally given by the father of the male, but Thatcher had no family, and my only living family wasn’t Ulinial at this point.
“Of course I can,” Flack responded, chortling as if I’d said something hilarious. His snout dipped in my direction. “I have a bead on one right now. How much are you willing to pay?” Nothing was ever without a price with Flack, of course. I was not surprised by this; he didn’t even offer a friendly discount, happy to fleece every mercenary on this ship out of their hard-earned credits. Not just when trading, either—he played an extremely mean game of Keflo too. He bluffed better than anyone I knew; I was never sitting down at a Keflo game with him again. Once was enough. Hewasextremely reliable when it came to getting you something, though, the best. His word was his bond, so if he said he could get me a traditional Ulinial familybook, he could.
“Name your price,” I said to him. He grinned even wider, and then, for what had to be the first time in the entire history of theVarakartoom, he shrugged. Like he wasn’t looking to get paid after all, but I seriously doubted that. “I’ll figure out some nifty upgrades for your armor,” I suggested, because I really didn’t want to owe him down the line.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Oops, gotta run,” he added, and he jogged off with uncanny precision, timing it so that he was gone just before Thatcher reappeared wearing his new armor. Flack was no dummy; he knew Thatcher would give him trouble if he saw him whispering with me. Once we had this thing figured out between us, and my family mark was solidly on his skin, we’d have to talk about that.
Thatcher glared in the direction Flack had disappeared, but he did not say anything. I fussed over his armor for several moments, checking the fit and testing his range of motion. He let me do it with a patient look on his face, kind of like he was indulging me, but not. Maybe he was just enjoying the moment, but I couldn’t quite tell from his expression.
All too soon, both of us were called to do our jobs, and I was forced to say goodbye. I kissed his jaw quickly, because Aramon saw and began hooting. I was very glad I hadn’t been to the mess hall that morning, because I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have survived the stares. Pacifist Ysa had caught herself a mercenary to take home. I could just imagine all the things they’d been saying, and I really wished I couldn’t. Unfortunately, I had good ears, and Grunn and Ivo were far too frank half the time when they thought I couldn’t hear.
Thatcher caught me by my braid as I tried to jog away, his big fist closing around it just at the base of my skull. “Not sofast, my little engineer,” he drawled. “You’re the one who did the public claiming; the least you can do is give me a proper send-off now. For good luck, of course.” Sure, good luck. Like he needed luck to come safely home to me. He didn’t believe that either, he just wanted an excuse to kiss me. Kissing me in front of our crewmates was just an added bonus to him.
When he covered my mouth with his, I felt the wildness, the adrenaline already surging through his veins. He was pumped for the coming fight, excited, eager for it. That would have made my mother shudder and turn away in horror, but she’d grown up in the safety of a never-before-breached colony ship. She had neverseentrue violence and been unable to defend herself against it. I had, and I’d lost my entire family to that kind of madness.
The mercenaries of theVarakartoomwalked far past a line most people would never cross. They dealt in blood and violence and mayhem, but if there was one thing I knew about them, it was that they were loyal. Loyal, and protective. Here, on this ship, I was safe. Thatcher had only proven that fact even more with his dogged insistence on following me around. So yeah, I did not do violence myself, but I could because these malesdid.TheVarakartoomwas not a ship that could ever be breached by an invading force like the colony ship I’d grown up on had been.
So I clung to Thatcher and let the heat of battle, already thrumming through him, sink into me. Let it assure me that it would keep him safe, fulfill the mission, and keep the ship secure. When he let me up, his hand unwinding from my braid, he grinned, and for the first time it was almost a full smile. “Behave while I’m gone. Don’t goanywhere alone.” Then he turned and jogged away, stomping onto the gangplank of the shuttle Aramon was flying, and disappearing inside.
