Page 13 of Silver Slayer

The beast shuddered once, twice, then collapsed at my feet in a twitching heap of limbs and oozing fluid. I barely registered the kill. My attention had already shifted to the broken viewport where she watched.

"Vennox." Truxxet's voice cut through my fixation. He stood several paces away, his spear dripping with phosphorescent fluid, his scales bearing the streaks of combat. "You're injured."

"I'm fine," I answered automatically, though blood trickled down my leg and arm in sticky rivulets. The pain registered as nothing more than distant pressure, eclipsed by the need to reach the ship.

To reach her.

"The threat is neutralized for now," Vala said, his luminous eyes scanning the carnage around us. "But more creatures will come when they scent the blood."

"Then we move," Ruze rumbled, "before the scavengers arrive."

I was already striding toward the crashed vessel, blade still unsheathed, pulled forward by an urgency I didn't try to name. The others followed, their footfalls heavy in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the blood-soaked ridge.

I reached the ship first. I slid my blade into its sheath as I ducked beneath a twisted piece of hull plating and stepped through the broken viewport in a single, fluid motion. The hammering in my chest grew harder with every inch the distance between us shrank.

Just inside stood my female. Her scent reached me immediately, unmistakably human yet unlike anything I had ever encountered. A sweetness lingered beneath it, soft and intoxicating, sharpened by the metallic edge of fear. The combination hit me with startling force.

I went still, suddenly aware of how I must look. Blood slicked my scales; some mine and some the slain creatures. My chest heaved. My eyes burned with the intensity of my awakening.

"I won't hurt you," I said, taking a careful step toward her.

"Good to know." Her feet stayed planted as she tipped her head back to meet my eyes, the graceful curve of her neck drawing my attention as she peered up at me. The corners of her full lips lifted slightly, the beginnings of a hesitant smile softening her features.

My gaze lingered on the soft curve of her mouth, and a powerful urge rose inside me to trace the fullness of her lower lip with my thumb. I curled my fingers into a fist at my side, forcing the impulse down, though it did nothing to lessen the desire beneath it. The females of Valose had perished when I was still a youngling. Never had I touched one with intimacy, never known the press of lips against another’s.

"You're not injured?" I asked, searching her face with desperate thoroughness. No blood. No obvious wounds. Just a streak of dirt across one cheek and her dark waves fallen loose around features every instinct inside me ached to protect. Mud stained the fabric covering her legs, and one side had torn along her thigh, exposing glimpses of pale skin beneath.

She blinked, as if surprised by the question. "Me? No. Just some scrapes from the run." Her eyes dropped to my shoulder, then my thigh. "But you're bleeding."

"It's nothing," I said.

"Your wounds need cleaning." She looked past me. "Vala, we need medical supplies."

"Right here." Tyrk raised a white square package and crossed toward us. "Take this," he said, handing the compact medikit to Quin. "The silver canister contains an antiseptic mist. That blue wand is a derma sealer. It passes a synthray over the epidermis, releasing a tissue-mend sealant that binds the deeper layers until natural healing is complete."

"Thanks, Tyrk." Quin accepted the medikit and turned back to me. "Come over here. Those wounds look deep. After eight weeks on this hellscape, we still don't understand all the biological contaminants on this planet. I've seen what infections can do in the field, and that was back on Earth, where we actually understood the bacteria."

As she turned to lead me deeper into the ship, I caught Truxxet watching us. His expression was unreadable, but his keen ears had already caught the frantic thunder of my ancillary heart. There was no mistaking that sound. Every Valosian knew what it meant when a male had been awakened.

I had found my spirit mate.

My body was suddenly heavy as the adrenalyne surge ebbed as I sank onto a seat at the rear of the command deck. The emergency lighting had dimmed to a soft white, throwing long shadows across the ruined interior and what remained of the command deck around me. Torn paneling hung like flayed fleshfrom the walls. Exposed circuitry sparked and hissed. Scattered debris marked a jagged path all the way to the shattered viewport at the far end.

I forgot the wreckage the moment she stepped between my spread knees to examine my shoulder wound. My spirit lurched against my ribs like a caged beast seeking freedom.

She took the silver canister from the medikit, turned it once in her palm to examine the lettering, then uncapped it. "If this stuff is anything like the antiseptic on our ship, it might sting," she warned, her breath warm against my scales as she leaned closer, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Then her gaze shifted higher. Her brow furrowed.

"There's a laceration near your temple," she murmured. "How did you get this one? It doesn't look as fresh as the others."

Her fingers slid into the loose strands of my mane near my temple, gently brushing them from my face. The soft drag of her fingertips across my scales sent a violent shiver through me. My eyes closed briefly as that small touch unraveled me.

"During the crash," I said, forcing my eyes open, painfully aware of how close she stood. "Brunnex's wound was severe. We were more concerned with him than with minor injuries." I shrugged. "I forgot about it."

Her pale eyes widened. "You forgot you split your head open?"

"There were more pressing concerns."