Owned by Luna Voss

29

Melyta

I grit my teeth in the back seat of the taxi, trying desperately to hold it together. I’m incredibly relieved the driver is a woman. My heat is coming soon, whether I like it or not.

“Thanks,” I say as I step out onto Barion’s street. She just nods, her eyebrows raised. It’s obvious she knows this is a Vostra area, and it seems like she’s judging me for it. I couldn’t give less of a shit.

Wetness drips down my inner thighs as I walk toward the house, my panties soaked and uncomfortable. I need Barion to knot me. I need him to knot me so bad. Everything else will have to wait until I have his knot inside me and his mark on my neck. Then I can think. Then I can breathe. Then I can exist.

Even still, I’m nervous. I’m disobeying a direct order by coming back. Will he be angry? Will he refuse to mark me because he wants me off the planet?

I plug my key code into the gate with trembling fingers. He’s not going to turn me away now, shivering, scared, and in heat. He can’t. He won’t. We’re in this together.

But as I open the front door, I realize immediately that something is wrong. I hear crashing. And someone yelling.

That’s Barion. And it sounds like he’s in pain.

I rush into the living room just in time to see two grown men crash through the glass coffee table. Pieces go flying everywhere as they snarl and claw and punch.

Barely, I avoid letting out a scream. Both men look up at me, and I see that Barion is on top, with Nullion on bottom. My mate and I make eye contact. His expression turns to one of horror as he realizes that I’ve returned.

And then the larger Voorian reverses the position, rolling over on top of Barion and starting to pummel him with his fists.

“No!” I yell, sprinting over and using all the strength I have to scratch at the scarred vostrat’s face. He gives me a hard shove that sends me sprawling backward, and I struggle to clamber to my feet.

But thankfully, my distraction did what it needed to. In the moment that Nullion’s attention is on me, Barion is able to buck the other man off of him and get up. He extends his claws and takes a fighting stance, blood trickling from a cut above his left eyebrow. Nullion does the same.

I watch in horror as the two unsuppressed Voorians begin to fight with their claws. It’s a spectacle I’ve never seen before, rather like how I imagine a knife fight would play out. They stay at a distance, circling, neither wanting to overcommit and earn a taste of the other’s claws.

Nullion lunges first. Barion dodges to the side, but still receives a minor cut to his arm. The other vostrat grins and attacks again.

This time Barion is ready for it, and counters with a short elbow straight to Nullion’s chin. He stumbles backward, rocked, and Barion is able to leap forward and deliver a slash to his chest that tears his shirt open. To my disappointment, I don’t see red blood trickling out of it.

Barion presses his attack, slicing forward with one set of claws, then the other. The larger Voorian dodges expertly, clearly no stranger to combat, and trips him to the ground. Barion picks himself up, snarling, and attacks again, lunging forward with more anger than grace.

Nullion has no problem avoiding this assault. He sidesteps it easily, slashing Barion’s back with his claws and kicking him to the ground again.

It’s a little harder for Barion to get up this time. I can see it in his body language, and it just ruins me. He’s giving it everything he has, but he’s not winning this fight.

That doesn’t stop him from trying. He attacks again, managing to cut his opponent’s forearm, if not deeply. The two men circle each other, and Nullion licks the blood from his hand.

“I wasn’t planning to kill you in front of your woman,” Nullion growls, eyes narrowing, “but I’ll enjoy it all the same. I guess you’ll just have to die wondering what’s going to happen to her after you’re gone.”

With a roar, Barion charges, leaping in with great, swinging hooks. Nullion avoids it easily and uses Barion’s momentum to throw him forward, straight into the wall. I wince as my mate tumbles into it hard and struggles to right himself.

Nullion advances, eyes gleaming with cruel excitement. He senses blood, and now he’s going in for the kill. I focus my power on him in desperation, trying to push, grab, twist, anything to cause damage. I’m still drained from my last expenditure of energy, but I’ll use whatever I can. Whatever I have left.

The big vostrat stops, as though suddenly arrested by an invisible force. I double my efforts, fingernails digging into my palms as I clench my fists. I want to crumple him up and throw him like a ball of paper.

With an uncomfortable-sounding crunch, Nullion’s spine twists and he lurches to the side. He grunts in pain, a look of confusion on his face. I try to give it more energy, but it’s like failing to lift something heavy, and I can’t. My shoulders slump. I feel dizzy as I try to keep myself upright.

And that’s when Barion rushes at him, capitalizing on the moment I’ve created. Nullion tries to turn to face him, wincing, but his movements are slow from whatever damage I just did to his back. My mate barrels into him, knocking him over, and then starts plunging his claws into his neck over and over again, turning the entire front of his torso red.

I race over to Barion. He stays on top of his enemy for a moment, snarling at him as he gurgles and dies, and then stands up fiercely, his beacon glowing bright red.

“Your arm,” I whisper, taking it and examining the cut.

Barion shakes his head and his beacon dims, like he’s snapping himself out of kill mode. He glances down at his bleeding forearm.

“It’s nothing,” he grunts, shaking his head. He puts his hands on my waist, and his eyes are wide. “Melyta, I… I never thought I would see you again.”

I try to laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

He just stares, as though struggling to find words, and then pulls me into his arms, squeezing me, holding me with everything he has in a tight, clinging embrace.

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave me,” he breathes, his voice a raw, ragged croak. “Melyta, I love you so much. I can’t believe you came back to me.”

“Of course I came back to you,” I whisper through my tears, burying my head in his chest. “I belong to you, Vostra.”

He kisses the top of my head repeatedly, squeezing me like he’s reluctant to let go. Then I take his hand, lead him wordlessly to the bathroom, and bandage the cuts on his forearm and his head.

“I’m okay, really, it’s nothing,” he protests, but I see the gratitude in his eyes.

“There,” I say, sealing the bandage on his head with a kiss. “All better. Or it will be soon.”

“Better than Nullion,” he growls.

I smile, then wince. A twinge of discomfort stemming from my heat. I try to hide it, not wanting to put any pressure on him, but he notices immediately.

“Melyta, are you hurt?” he asks quickly.

“No,” I tell him shyly. “I’m fine.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Hey. If you didn’t let me get away with that, I’m not going to let you get away with it. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just… I’m pretty sure I’m going into heat.”

His mouth hangs open. “So that’s why you smell so fucking good.”

I blush. “It started as I was boarding at the spaceport.”

Barion strokes my face, looking at me with an expression of wonder. He starts to say something, then pulls me into a deep, lingering kiss.

I melt against him as his actions grow fervent and an animal growl rumbles up in his throat.