Terran (Breeder) (20 page)

Qalin would retaliate. Sooner rather than later.

Marlix’s people relied on him for protection, and he’d endangered their lives. For the regard of a female not even of his world. Because a Terran whom he had claimed had disobeyed.

An unconscious Urazi took a shuddering breath.

Rage demanded an outlet. Marlix leaped to his feet, grabbed his chair, and threw it at the wall with such force, it broke through to the outside. A cold and pale daylight slanted through the hole. A beta, a med-tech’s aide, rushed in. His eyes widened. “What hap—” His gaze shot to Marlix, and he snapped his mouth shut and fled.

Marlix blinked to clear the red haze. Destroying the medical treatment room would not serve Urazi. Taking several deep breaths, Marlix forced back his pain. With a final glance at his friend, he strode from the infirmary. Damage had been done, but he would prevent a recurrence by addressing the source of the problem.

He marched to the blacksmith, the one person who would have the tool he needed.

* * * *

Tara paced the cottage, despair and anguish writhing like snakes in her gut. She’d washed off the blood and changed into a single-breast-baring Parseon shift, but the stain of guilt could not be erased. Tara had wanted to comfort a distraught Anika, but Marlix had confined her to the hut.

How could she have comforted her anyway when she was responsible?

If Urazi died too, she did not think she could live with herself.

After she’d killed Qalin’s guard, she’d contacted Marlix with Urazi’s PCD, then did her best to stanch the bleeding. Blood flowed from Urazi as if the dagger had opened a vein. That he lived at all testified to the strength of Parseon physiology. Marlix had arrived with a regiment of guards and a medical team and had transported them all to the Enclave.

Reaction had set in then, and she’d stuttered out what had happened, omitting nothing, especially not her culpability. Marlix had said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes.

He blamed
her.

She did not fault him.

Tara could not imagine what form her punishment would take. Flogging, perhaps? Even the severest spanking with a sudon could not expunge her guilt, undo the damage she’d caused. Whatever Marlix meted out, she deserved it and more. She wished she knew what was happening with Urazi. Perhaps no news was favorable? If he had died, wouldn’t Marlix have informed her? Tara hugged herself and then dropped her arms. She did not deserve comfort, not even self-soothing.

She jumped when the hut door opened. Marlix’s silhouette filled the entrance, blocked the light. A mental fabrication, she was sure, but his form seemed to have
grown
, expanded. But she did not imagine the very real rage. It flowed from him in waves.

Her knees shook while remorse paralyzed her throat.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

He stepped inside. The door clicked shut with a quiet finality. Not since he’d first kidnapped her had he frightened her so. Should she drop to her knees and beg for mercy? She slowly brought her gaze to his face. His expression appeared chiseled from stone, but in the depths of his eyes, she spied the anguish he could not conceal.

“Urazi… Is he…”
Dead
. She could not bring herself to say the word. “Is he going to be all right?” Blood pounded in her ears.

“The physician cannot predict.” Marlix’s monotone revealed more than an overt expression of sorrow would have.
He
did not expect Urazi to survive.

Tears flooded Tara’s eyes.

Marlix averted his gaze as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her. He stared at the wall over her head. He squeezed his left hand into a fist, drawing her attention, and for the first time, she noticed he held some sort of a tool in his right hand.

His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell. Time seemed to slow with his breathing. At last he spoke. “Come here.”

Her wobbly legs refused to move.

“Do not make me come for you.”

“Marlix…Alpha…” Shame and cowardice tasted sour in her mouth. “Please…don’t…please…”

He lunged. She screamed when she was hoisted off her feet. In terror she struck at him, her fists bouncing off his shoulders. He didn’t so much as grunt to indicate he registered the blows. With controlled force, he threw her onto the bed. She landed on her back. He subdued her flailing limbs by capturing both wrists in one hand over her head and pressing his knee across her legs. Her breath came in ragged pants as she tried to buck him off.

Marlix raised the tool—a cutter of some sort—and slipped the cold metal blade under her insignia ring. She flinched when it crunched through the metal.

Cringed again when Marlix yanked off the insignia and threw it across the room.

He released her and wiped his hands on his uniform pants. “Go,” he said, his voice as dead as his eyes. “Go back to the Bazaar. Go back to Terra. I do not care. I do not want you.”

At the door, he paused but did not look back. “When I return, I will deliver you to the tram. Be ready.” He departed as quietly as he’d entered.

Tara curled into a fetal position and wept.

Chapter Eighteen

Tara bagged a length of brown gabardine, and, forcing a smile, she handed the sack to the customer. She slumped with relief as the beta left the shop. A week had passed since Marlix had thrown her out, and it had become harder with every passing day to fake normalcy. In her absence, Ramon had managed the shop well, and her business had prospered. Since her return, he’d managed her too, his concern and caring the only tether that kept her from being swallowed by a fog of despair. He coaxed her to eat, escorted her to and from her quarters, dealt with customers when she couldn’t, and did not ask questions she couldn’t answer.

He’d attempted to comfort her with a hug, but that she wouldn’t allow. Marlix’s prohibition against Ramon touching her haunted her, and she shied away from all physical contact. Every time Ramon came near, with every accidental brush or bump that occurred during the work day, she would think, Marlix would not like that.

Nothing could be further from the truth now. Marlix did not care what happened to her. He had told her so. And he did not say things he did not mean.
“I cannot afford the luxury of inconsistency.”
His words played and replayed in her brain.
“I do not want you.”

She’d hoped to lose her sorrow in hard work, but it dogged her instead. The bolts of the composite fabric reminded her how she’d met Marlix and Urazi, and the panels of green brought to mind the Enclave shift he’d brought her so she could work in the fields. When he’d freed her.

Well, she was
free
now. Bitterly free. Guiltily free.

She’d heard no news—had no way to find out—but assumed Urazi had succumbed to his critical injuries.

Perched on a stool, Ramon squinted at the inventory-control screen. “We are running low on some of our best-selling fabrics. It could take a month to get them. We should reorder.”

“There is a shuttle leaving for Terra next week,” she said.

“I’m not suggesting we go get them,” he said in a gentle tone. “Our fabrics—”

“I understood you.” Tara rubbed her sweaty palms down her slacks and remembered how Marlix had wiped his hands of her after he’d cut off the ring. After the looseness of the shifts, Terran clothing seemed too constrictive, uncomfortable. She remembered the
rriiiipp
of her shifts. How many had he ruined in passion and punishment? Tara choked on a sob.

Ramon’s voice filtered through, and Tara realized she’d drifted off. Again. Too often she had tried to work only to end up mentally wandering in misery.
Focus, Tara, focus.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” he said gently, as if he was the boss and she the employee. Ramon. Such a good friend he’d turned out to be. What would she have done this week without him?

Tell him. Tell him now
. She had reached a decision but had delayed breaking the news, unwilling to upend Ramon’s life as hers had been.
Coward
. Tara took a breath. “I am going home,” she said.

“Good. I can handle things here. Let me lock up, and I’ll walk you.”

“No, I mean home to Terra.” She couldn’t remain with the memories, with the chance she might encounter Marlix—with the greater likelihood that she would
never
again encounter Marlix. At least if she were hundreds of millions of kilometers away, she could stop scanning the crowds for a glimpse of his tall form.

Ramon slid off the stool and approached the desk. At the concern in his eyes, she had to clamp her lips together to prevent herself from dissolving into a fit of weeping. She did not deserve sympathy. Ramon did not have all the facts. All he knew was that she had fallen for the Alpha who’d kidnapped her, had been held and released from the Enclave, and she now pined for her captor.

Ramon covered her hand. She endured it for a moment before easing her hand away. Stupid. Would she live the rest of her life without a man’s touch? And Ramon was gay! His intention had been to comfort her. He had, in fact, met a beta with whom he’d formed a relationship. Which complicated her decision.

“Tara, are you sure? You’re hurting now, but with time the pain
will
fade. Do you want to give up everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve? You have one of the most successful booths in the Bazaar.”

“You’re a good friend, Ramon.” Tara twisted her hands. “You’re a wonderful employee; you kept everything going in my absence. Because of you, I still
have
a business.”

Ramon studied his feet. “I’m not a friend, I’m a coward. I should have done more to help—”

“Don’t say that. You did everything you could.”

When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up her hand to silence him. “No, I won’t allow you to blame yourself. You had nothing to do with what happened. What I wanted to tell you is that my leaving doesn’t need to affect you. You can continue to run the shop. You’ll be the manager. You can continue to work here.”

He tsked. “I’m not worried about that. I care about
you
.”

“That’s why you’re such a good friend.” She inhaled. “I reserved a seat on the shuttle to Terra. I leave—” Tara broke off as a female entered the shop.

She turned to greet her customer. Her eyes widened, and she felt the first little twinge of joy in a week. “Omra!”

“Tara, how are you?” asked the hugely pregnant breeder of Alpha Commander Dak.

“I’m fine,” she answered automatically. “Here, sit down. Ramon, get a stool.” Tara pointed, but Ramon was already dragging it forward.

“I do not need to sit,” Omra denied but sank onto the chair with obvious relief. She smoothed her hands over her abdomen. “One month of gestation remains, but I believe Berik will be arriving sooner.”

“Berik? You are having a son?”

“I have not been tested, but I sense it.” Her happy smile contorted into a grimace, and she massaged her side. “The way he kicks, he has to be Alpha. Already he attempts to assume command.” She giggled. “He is like his
seppa
.”

“Where is Commander Dak? You did not come alone?”

“No, Dak brought me.” Omra waved her hand at the Bazaar. “He is with Miri. He is buying her another toy she does not need.” Omra rolled her eyes. “She is quite fond of your stuffed animals, but I swear, they are alive and can reproduce. I do not know how we could have acquired so many.”

Tara forced a smile. “They do multiply,” she said.

Omra’s eyes grew serious. “I had heard you were with Commander Marlix.”

At the sound of his name Tara nearly doubled over in pain.
This
was why she needed to leave Parseon. She closed her eyes, felt the scrutiny of Omra and Ramon both. She would never heal if every casual mention, every offhand inquiry, returned her to the moment when she’d killed his feelings for her and he’d banished her from his life.

Tara opened her eyes and swallowed. “I was. But no more.”

“Could I speak to you alone?” Omra asked in a low voice. “I have a proposition for you.”

Despite her misery, Tara was curious. She raised her eyebrows at Ramon. “Would you mind?”

He looked like he was about to protest, but then sighed. “I’ll grab some lunch,” he said. “Bring you back something?”

“Please, and thank you,” Tara answered. She could not have asked for a better friend.

On his way out, Ramon flipped the sign to CLOSED.

Tara twisted to face Omra. She wet her lips. “What is it?”

“I know about the deaths of Jergan and Qalin’s guards.”

Hope soared by the absence of one name. “Urazi? He’s alive?” Tara pressed a hand to her thumping heart.

“He is still unconscious at the Enclave. But yes, he still lives.”

After a week, he had not regained consciousness? Relief drained away. “How do you know all this?”

“Dak has been in frequent contact with Commander Marlix. They, along with Alpha Ilian, have united against Qalin and Artom. Which is why I am here. I do not wish to alarm you, but you should come stay at our abode.”

Tara blinked. “Why? What has happened?”

Omra glanced out into the Bazaar, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Dak believes Commander Qalin may retaliate against you.”

Tara sucked in a breath. “Qalin knows…that…that…I killed one of his men?”

Omra nodded.

Tara gulped, but she threw back her shoulders. She’d gotten to know Omra through her visits to her shop, but it wasn’t like they were close friends. She did not want to impose upon her and Dak—especially when she would not be the best company. Before long, she’d be leaving anyway. “I’ll be fine. I am going home to Terra.”

“When?” Omra asked.

“Next week,” she answered. Then came a small burst of elation. “Did Marlix ask Dak to take me in?” She looked at Omra.

Even before she spoke, the pity on Omra’s face dashed Tara’s hopes. “I do not wish to mislead you. Commander Marlix has forbidden anyone to speak your name.” Omra grabbed her hand with a gentle but firm grip and squeezed. “Please. Come stay with us, with me. The domicile is very secure, and I would love to have some female company while Dak attends to his province.”