Page 25 of Shielded in the Shadows

The sharp pressure in my chest became acute pain. Was the wound in my back more serious than I’d thought?

A strange, warm sensation rose in my upper chest and throat, replacing the pain with a deep vibration as if I were humming. It reverberated in my chest in a similar but distinctly different way than my growl. My chest twinged and my throat spasmed like the sound was trying to escape.

Understanding dawned like a sunrise, and my breath caught.

This sensation was my body trying to release the sound I would make only for my mate to comfort her. Like the healing power of my blood, the physiological changes in my body to create it were proof of what we were to each other—or what I very much wanted us to be to each other, if Keela would accept it.

Filled with wonder, I opened my mouth and let the sound emerge. My coo was low and sweet and unlike any sound I had made before.

Its effect on Keela was instantaneous and miraculous. My mate exhaled and relaxed into my arms. Her groans of pain quieted. And her heart, which had been pounding since we’d come under fire near her ship, finally slowed.

I smoothed my hand over her hair, attempting to soothe her with my touch as well as my coo as the ship lurched and rocked. She seemed to be breathing better, at least. Hopefully the bleeding had slowed too. I used a clean edge of her cloak to wipe some of the blood off her face.

“Keela,” I murmured, my lips on her hair. Gods above, she smelled so good. “I’m here. I have you.”

“Ship will go…into hyperspace…soon,” she rasped, craning her head to look up at me. Her pupils were blown so wide that only a tiny ring of brown iris remained. Up close, I could see the lenses that altered her eye color. “Put me...in the medpod. Don’t touch…anything…or I’ll have…the ship…space you.”

I chuckled and clasped her hand in my much-larger one, marveling at how different her small fingers and their blunt pink nails were to my longer digits and black claws. “I am a trained ship’s medic. You have my word I will touch nothing but what I must to heal your injuries and my own.”

She gazed up at me. For the first time since I’d knelt for her in the maintenance shaft, her expression when she looked at me was cautious and thoughtful rather than full of mistrust, disdain, and the obvious desire to see me lying unconscious at her feet.

“Your coo,” she whispered. “I know…that means…”

“Yes.” I couldn’t help but nuzzle her hair. “Save your strength. We’ll talk about everything when you’re recovered. I will keep you safe.”

She frowned at me. “Never safe.”

Before I could reply, the ship finally stopped lurching and settled into a smooth flight. All the ship’s interior lighting dimmed.

“Activating shadow mode,” the AI’s voice stated. “Hyperdrive engaging. Destination, pre-selected coordinates beta two-eight-six.”

The vessel vibrated and surged as it slipped into hyperspace, following whatever route Keela had already ordered the ship to take.

I exhaled for what felt like the first time since the Fleeting Fancy had docked at the station—possibly for the first time since Sjer had sent me Keela’s photo and dossier.

“Captain, scanners have detected an unknown life form aboard the vessel,” the AI said, and now its voice sounded ominous. “Biological signature appears to be Fortusian. Do you wish the intruder to be incapacitated for disposal?”

I stiffened.

“No,” Keela rasped, her bloody lips quirking at my expression. “The Fortusian is…my guest.”

“Understood. Your Fortusian guest is granted limited access to ship’s functions.” The AI paused. “Captain Wren, your vital signs indicate a life-threatening injury. Please proceed immediately to the medpod for treatment.”

I released the emergency harness and rose with Keela in my arms, leaving the bloody cloak on the floor to clean up later. “I am taking Captain Wren to the medpod now,” I said.

“Understood, Fortusian guest,” the AI replied.

By the time I reached the ship’s tiny medbay, the medpod had already activated. I laid Keela carefully on the medbay’s exam table and removed her boots, bracer, and her weapons—all seven of them—plus the band hidden in her hair that controlled her biomask.

Before I could pick her up again, she made a spinning motion with her right index finger. “Let me see your back,” she rasped.

Obediently, I turned.

“It’s not so bad,” she murmured. “Bit bloody, but you’ll live.”

“I will.” I scooped her up as gently as I could. “As will you, Captain Wren.”

Predictably, she frowned. “Don’t get comfortable on my ship,” she warned as I lowered her into the medpod. “You still have to convince me not to drop you at the next station.”