Page 25 of Captured
Chapter Thirteen
Rakir
I can still taste her on my tongue. Her sweet, tangy flavor, more intoxicating than any drink I’ve ever tasted.
I won’t give her up. Ever. She’s mine and no matter what happens, I will keep her.
For now, what matters is to repair what she’s done. She’s a smart little thing and she destroyed almost all of my fuel cells, rendering the entire ship as useless as a metal shell.
I come to the control room and assess the damages for the first time since she sabotaged my ship. The surfaces are covered in soot and the air stings my nostrils, but this is the extent of the damages to the controls. It’s a good thing I invested a considerable sum of my fortune to buy fireproof controls and commands. As soon as I can repair the fuel cells, I’ll be able to use the computers.
I begin to work, the task absorbing my mind completely. The fluids and gels that make up the fuel cells are complex and it takes all my focus to restore them to the purity level necessary to bring back electricity to the ship.
It won’t be enough to fly, but it will be enough to send a signal and maybe power the universal translator so I can truly speak with Juliet.
Yes, I’d like that.
As I climb back to the upper level, I come face to face with the delicate-limbed creature. I immediately notice that she put on the items of clothing I left for her by the bed. I feel a twinge of regret at not being able to gaze at her naked body, but the temperature inside the ship is too low for her vulnerable skin. Her beautiful body is almost completely hidden under the baggy, too large one-piece suit, but she rolled up the sleeves and ankles enough that it will fit her for the time being.
Her previous human uniform was beyond repair, soiled with her blood and ripped where she had been impaled. I swear to myself that never again will she wear the Human Alliance uniform. In fact, she will never again wear human clothing.
I pull to my feet as she looks at me with her wide, intelligent eyes. There’s a world between us made of unsaid things, but I don’t care. She’s mine. I can feel it in the stab in my gut as I look at her, like a hook digging through my flesh, anchoring me to her.
She’s my Amara. My mate, the half to my soul, hidden across the universe for me to find.
A Drakian mates but once and my body has chosen her. There is no going back, no looking away.
Juliet is the center to my life, the star at the heart of my darkness. She’s everything.
“Did you repair the fuel cells?” she asks, her chin lifted her, her arms crossed over her breasts. She tries her best to look defiant and tough, but I can see the way her jugular pulses fast. She’s scared.
Of me? I frown, confused by her fear. Could she still think I would hurt her? The very idea is disturbing. I would rather die than hurt her.
“Yes,” I answer simply, not finding the words in her language to tell her she doesn’t need be afraid of me, ever.
“So, you’ve sent for your people, then.” This isn’t a question and fear etches its lines more clearly in her lovely features.
Could this be what scares her? The idea of my people hurting her?
“No.” I shake my head and she blinks in surprise. I’m frustrated by my inability to communicate with her easily, but there’s no other way. Not until the cells are replete, anyway. “Need time. Need light.”
This is not the easiest of conversations, but she seems to understand what I want to say.
She turns around and looks at the room, then bites her lower lip.
“I never thanked you for saving my life.” Her face contorts and when she looks back to me, there’s a sadness in her. “Here it is. Thank you.”
There’s a lot hanging in the air between us as she speaks. Volumes of things left unsaid and I get the sense this is not easy for her.
“And I’m sorry for destroying your ship,” she says, her eyes still meeting mine dead on. There’s a skeleton of steel in everything she does, even her surrender. Even her apology seems lined with it.
A strong, hard female. A female fit for me.
I open my mouth to tell her what I have been wanting to tell her since I first saw her. That she belongs to me. That there is no going back. That she will be by my side on the Drakian throne, one day.
The words stick to my tongue as I struggle to find the right ones to use. Universal doesn’t flow easily in my brain, the words not adapted for Drakian minds.
“I was wrong about you,” she continues, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “You’re not who you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be a monster, but you’re not, are you?”
