ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2) Read online

  ‘It does seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity.’ Rowan shrugged.

  ‘Life changing.’ Aled tapped a rough-skinned finger against the coffee table. ‘If they weren’t scoundrels that give me the willies. Send them off.’

  ‘I tried. Look where that brought me.’ I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. ‘They will no go.’

  Patrick tutted. ‘You did no send them away.’

  ‘You were there were you?’

  Mouth thinning, he shifted to face me. ‘You asked them to leave you be?’

  I ran a finger over my eyebrow, head ducking. ‘Gave them the slip, didn’t I?’

  ‘Sounds like you wanted the chase.’

  I mumbled dark things at the carpet. I could see lines where a vacuum cleaner had passed. A protest would reveal too much to them and myself.

  ‘We could kill them,’ Aled said. ‘Bury the bodies in the woods.’

  ‘We can no kill and bury everyone you get a funny feeling about.’ Rowan shoved him. ‘People will come looking.’

  ‘Who’s looking?’

  ‘Beowyn is King of his planet. You’ll bring an alien armada down on our heads. In case you didn’t notice,’ he held up the peace sign, ‘only took two of them to kick our arse.’

  ‘Snow was in my eye.’

  Rowan tipped his auburn head. ‘My shoulder has been acting up.’

  ‘We’ll take them by surprise.’

  ‘Mebbe.’

  ‘Are you quite finished?’ Patrick’s Grae green eyes fixed on me. He softened, voice gentled. ‘You want to go. Admit it, and let’s move on.’

  ‘I can no believe this.’ I fanned my face. ‘How would leaving with them be safe for my daughter?’ I stabbed a finger at him. ‘Your niece.’

  ‘Miracles like this don’t happen to people like us. I’m no seeing how Fergie becoming a princess would be a bad or overly dangerous thing.’ He rolled his shoulders. ‘She’d get the best of everything, more than we as a clan provide.’ His eyes locked on mine. ‘You might heal on Vayhalun. I’m watching you grow bitter. It hurts to see you working yourself to the grave.’ He gripped my knee. ‘You need this.’

  ‘Do you think so little of my ability to rear my own flesh and blood?’ I curled into the sofa. ‘I’m no going.’

  ‘This is for the best.’

  ‘I’ll have to be dragged by the hair.’

  ‘See that being a problem do you?’ He cracked his knuckles and snorted. ‘Are you going to sit there and pretend you feel nothing? That you didn’t light up when he came into the room.’

  I sighed. Feelings got you into trouble. I had to be sensible. ‘It would be crazy to go alone.’

  My cousins slid each other indecipherable looks. They seemed to come to a unanimous decision.

  Leaning back, Patrick’s ankles crossed. ‘Who said you’d be alone?’

  Blindsided by their unexpected approval, I ducked my head and clutched at my ears. Shameful longing gushed into my bloodstream. ‘I fell for a liar once.’ That man broke me to pieces I still hadn’t finished fitting back together. ‘What if Beowyn is a liar too?’

  ‘You can no live your life suspicious of everyone. You can no run because you might get hurt.’

  ‘Is that what you want to teach your daughter?’ Rowan asked. ‘To be afraid to take a chance?’

  ‘That’s no way to live,’ Aled said.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ My eyes crossed, and I slouched. ‘I hear you, no more running. It’s exhausting and surprisingly dangerous.’ I thought of Beowyn and Éorik waiting for my decision. My bruised heart gave a feeble kick. ‘If this backfires, I’m blaming you lot.’ I sent them a trembly smile.

  Patrick nodded. ‘That’s the spirit.’ He shifted to stand as I did.

  I felt tempted to let him come but shook my head. ‘I’ve listened to your advice. I’m grateful for all you’ve done, but this last bit I’m needing to handle myself.’ I couldn’t rely on him to be the go between forever. ‘Fergie’s happiness is my responsibly. I have to live with this decision, so I need to face him head on.’

  Dropping back, his lips quirked. ‘We’ll be here waiting. Take your time.’

  The aliens wandered the outside the caravan, prancing in the snow.

  Cold air clean and fresh bit at my face and reddened my cheeks. I stopped a pace or so from Beowyn and rubbed my hands together for warmth. ‘I will no pretend to understand why you’ve chosen me, but I’d be foolish to brush aside this opportunity.’ I paused, trying to not to let my fears get the better of me. ‘I do have a condition, and something I need to make sure you’re clear on.’ I took a longer, deeper breath and made my voice firm. ‘My daughter and I are a package deal. I go, she goes. She must be safe and accepted by you. Do you understand me?’

  Beowyn blinked. ‘The cub is mine.’

  My hands fell from their nervous twisting at my middle. ‘Then my only condition is my family must come with us.’ I cringed, expecting him to refuse. He’d come to Earth seeking a bride, but he offered much, while I offered myself, the child of another man, and my loveable but often nosey and loud family.

  ‘Of course, our human-kin may accompany us.’ He drew closer brushing snow from his shoulders, long hair and chest. His breaths were white puffs. ‘This will be my mating gift to you.’

  Stirring, Éorik sighed.

  Beowyn eyed him. ‘She may have this small thing.’

  ‘Your desire to grant her request is generous, but the severe poaching penalties, the breaking of a new-founded intergalactic treaty, and the peril of inciting a breeding female concerns me, Owyn, as it should you.’

  Fiddling with my necklace, its pendant icy against my skin, I glanced between them.

  ‘Forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.’ Beowyn faced me. He stood close enough the wind stirred our hair, blending it into fire streaked midnight. ‘They are welcome in my House.’

  My return smile was hesitant but genuine. ‘Then I’ll go with you.” I inched closer to his radiant heat. “I’ll go to Vayhalun, and I’ll be your wife.’

  ‘Before we speak our marriage vows let me assure you of what I offer.’

  ‘M-Marriage vows?”

  ‘As my One, I will provide you with a harem of your choosing and unlimited funds to bid on the best of courtesans.’ He shot me a nervous look as if seeking my approval. ‘You will have access to the treasury, the fortune of my honourable Dyna, and my permission to house your lovers within the Royal Atoll. To prove my devotion, I will allow you to dismiss any of my lovers you feel are inappropriate. In return, you will bear my cubs and rule beside me until our young defeat me in combat proving themselves Great Alpha.’

  ‘We’re getting married right now?’

  ‘If you will accept me for who I am as I accept you.’

  ‘Do you no need a ceremony?’ I assumed because of his royal status I’d have to suffer an overblown wedding.

  ‘I need only you.’ His gaze captured mine. ‘You will be my confidant, the safe harbour I seek in my darkest times. These are conditions I press upon you.’ His alien face was a stark composition of grey planes and black hollows in the moonlight. ‘Are you my wife?’

  Swallowing to ease the tightness of my throat, I slowly bobbed my head.

  ‘The union must be legally binding.’ Éorik’s rasp made me flinch. I’d forgotten he was there. His expression was a cool blank. ‘Speak the words.’

  Gooseflesh raised on my arms. ‘Why the rush? Can we no spend a few months getting to know each other?’

  ‘I must return to my people.’

  ‘Beowyn, I barely know you.’

  ‘You have an entire life cycle for that. You already know I am the Vayhalun’s Great One. I promise to treasure you and our cub. I will provide. I will do my best to make you happy.’

  ‘It has to be now?’

  ‘I cannot take you from Earth without the power of my name to shield you. It is the minimum the Intergalactic Alliance will accept to bring you under the protection
of the Supreme Laws.’ He lowered to his knees and took my shaky hands in his. ‘Are you my wife?’ His flesh was hot and rough, the backs of his hands dusted with fur, and his nails black hooks pricking my skin.

  Clad in ratty jeans and a threadbare hoody, stood on a blanket of crunchy snow under a sky strewn with stars, I made my choice. An alien had once again gone to his knees before me, his heart in his strange eyes and a vow poised on his lips. This time I wouldn’t run. I’d be bold and brave and take a chance. For the first time in years, my future was filled with possibility.

  One day I might love him, and he love me. ‘I am your wife.’

  Beowyn’s thumb rubbed the racing pulse at my wrist. His silver pupils were huge in the blacks of his eyes. ‘I am your husband.’ His rumbly voice was resonant over the whistling wind.

  Cheers broke our reverent silence.

  We turned to see my family crowded inside the bright door of the caravan.

  Squatting, Aled wedged his shoulders in the doorframe. His nose was scrunched, but his eyes smiled. Rowan made the most noise, hooting and wolf whistling. Wrapped in a terry bathrobe and scratching his bald spot, Uncle Fergus peered at the aliens through sleep-reddened eyes. Sucking on her dummy, Fergie smacked her hands together, giggling at the ruckus. Holding my daughter to make sure she could see, Patrick nodded his approval.

  Beowyn laughed. He waved them closer as he stood. He kept hold of my hand as he introduced himself to his new daughter, who boldly tugged on his hair and demanded to be held.

  I ducked my head and blushed.

  The short flight from the Highland croft to Weedsmuir Valley blew my mind. It left my family quiet with awe.

  Uncle Fergus couldn’t stop gumming his cap, his battered, many buckled leather duffle sitting on his slippers.

  Manning the controls of what he called a terrestrial exploration craft, Éorik assured me Vayhalun was politically stable and eradicated airborne viruses and transmutable diseases generations ago. I guessed he picked up my lingering anxiety. He stressed there had been trouble with another species being de-registered or something else confusingly political, but he maintained his home world was at peace with the rest of the galaxy. ‘Verak have powerful allies. These ties the Great One strengthens by hosting tournaments, and festivals.’ Sharp features lit with fierce pride when he told me this, exotically slanted eyes wandering to Beowyn and lingering.

  No plagues and no wars. Good enough for me.

  Of all the things I should be thinking of during the massive upheaval I’d decided upon for me and my daughter, the only thing I could concentrate on was the memory of Beowyn falling to his knees in my shabby living room.

  His silvery eyes bored into mine, expression reverent.

  I offer my seed.

  Shaking off my daze, my eyes swept my bedroom. What did one pack to emigrate to another planet? Jeans, tee shirts and a hoodie? Being kidnapped would remove the burden of having to prioritise outfits, that was for sure.

  Freshly showered, I studied the cubby that was my canvas and wood wardrobe. I opened my arms, swooped in to grab all the hangars then unhooked and dragged them out. I staggered under the load to my open suitcase then dumped everything inside. I eyed the resulting jumble. Shoes and underwear would fit the nooks and crannies, but a line bisected my brows when I realised there was no space for toiletries. I’d have to pack a separate tote. Would such a thing be okay? I tried to travel light, but surely there would be plenty of room on a spaceship. Beowyn wasn’t going to levy an additional baggage charge like a commercial airliner. Would he? I shook my head, and dropped to my knees, pulling dusty, battered sneakers and boots from under the bed frame. I’d already packed Fergie’s duffel, lovingly folding ruffled skirts, spotted tights and frilly socks. Ironing her jeans and tops, I made sure she had winter coats, summer cardigans, and light autumn jackets that could double as a cover for the rainy months of spring. Did it rain on Vayhalun? I rolled my eyes. What did it matter? The weather was weather, wasn’t it? War, famine and disease were what worried me, as they were problems Earth. Did the Verak even mark the years by months? Were there twelve of them? Was a year still a year?

  I was crazed with questions.

  Shampoo in one hand, conditioner in the other, I felt glued to the spot. ‘Am I making a mistake?’

  ‘May I be bold and suggest not?’

  At the unexpected reply to what had been a rhetorical question, I spun. I clutched the bottles to my chest. ‘Wyn.’

  Minding his horns, Beowyn ducked under the door frame. ‘Those who are mine call me Owyn. So must you.’

  ‘Okay.’ I set down the hair products to free my hands. They trembled. ‘Where are the others?’

  ‘Orik is helping them move the cub’s possessions onto the transport.’ He scanned the room, touched a clawed finger to a framed photo of me and Fergie sitting on my dresser. ‘You mustn’t worry.’ He picked up the photograph and placed it in my case. ‘Your kin will be happy. I provide well. They will have good homes and concubines and lovers of their own.’

  Rattled and defaulting into protective mode, I frowned. ‘Aled lost his wife, my cousin Cait, a while back but hasn’t gotten over it. Unless he actively pursues someone don’t pressure him by throwing women at him. Uncle Fergus is old and batty, so, ew.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘Trick’s a charmer. He’ll no need your help; I guarantee it. Rowan is androgyne. Leave off unless he asks.’ I grabbed a handful of underwear out of a drawer.

  Beowyn sidled closer. ‘Androgyne?’

  I evaluated if one needed Spanx in outer space. ‘Non-gendered.’ I stuffed my suitcase to capacity then sat on it to do up the cheap zipper.

  Plastic nubs refused to budge.

  ‘I do not know what that means.’

  ‘There’s no one answer. Androgyne are unique individuals, you understand? Two snowflakes are no the same. From what I know of Rowan, and believe me, it took a while, he is physically female, Gray-A and mentally non-gendered.’

  ‘These utterances are sensical?’

  ‘Like I don’t question if you’re full of shite too.’

  Blacks of his eyes bright, he trailed a claw along my headboard raking up splinters. ‘Lah, you beguiling creature.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re full of shite.’ I was as interesting as watching paint dry. ‘Rowan doesn't experience sexual attraction except in limited circumstances unique to him.’

  If only I could be so lucky. My life would be simpler, and dealing with the Verak’s blatantly sexual nature would become easy. I wouldn’t have Fergie though. I lamented the mistake of Liam as her father and had struggled to make ends meet since her birth, but never had I regretted keeping her, only my ability to be a good provider.

  At Beowyn’s continued silence, I paused long enough to realise my lips were loose, and Lord were they flapping.

  I owed Rowan an apology for speaking out of turn.

  I’d grown more comfortable with Beowyn. More than I’d realised to speak so casually of inner family workings.

  ‘The serpents have a similar thing. A’ra.’ His reply was halting. ‘They are adolescents, however, unable to experience sexual attraction due to their physiological state.’ He cupped himself. ‘By the Boar’s Tusk, is he dying?’

  It was a relief he still called Rowan by a masculine pronoun. ‘No.’

  ‘Afflicted by an organ shrivelling ague?’

  ‘Stop.’ My lips curved. ‘Do you no have anything like that on Vayhalun?’

  Beowyn peered at the magnolia wall. ‘Sick and dying?’

  ‘Owyn? For goodness sake, Owyn. Look at me. Is this a problem? It’s been this way for Rowan since he was a teenager. Don’t go making him feel awkward. I told you to keep you from stashing a prostitute in his bed or something else drastic. You have a vibe about you that suggests such things are common.’ I slapped a palm to my forehead, shutting my eyes. ‘Which begs the question, what I was thinking marrying you? Let alone going across the universe with you and dragging my poor family with me. Don�
�t touch that.’

  I snatched away the vibrating neck massager he’d unearthed from my knicker drawer. My ten-speed, phallus-shaped, bunny-eared neck massager.

  ‘Perhaps Rowan prefers females but is not free to pursue them amongst Earthlings as one. I am male, and bed males for this is not taboo on Vayhalun. Éorik prefers males.’ His rumbly bass lowered, and he glanced around. ‘I do not even forbid tentacles.’

  Pausing the fiddling happening between my legs, I nought. ‘It’s no so much about preference because it’s frowned upon or some external influence. Rowan’s slept with men and women.’ Back when it happened, he’d been a wreck. He’d thought he was broken. ‘I will say though he has never had tentacle sex, he’ll appreciate the freedom to, ah, partake.’ I yanked again but stopped to clear my throat. ‘Éorik prefers males, you say? That’s unusual, right? I guess Verak do no have preferences one way or another, but he does.’

  Beowyn looked as if he wanted to ignore the question. He finally shook his head. Briefly, such a small movement I barely caught it. He nosed around in my drawers. He hooked a pair of lacy, pre-baby panties onto his thumb claw.

  A winged eyebrow arched.

  ‘I wear waist-high spandex now.’

  He tucked the scrap of fabric into his pocket.

  ‘What do you think your playing at? Hand it over.’

  ‘Mayhap Rowan is impotent? There are tonics our scientists can provide.’

  ‘There’s nothing physically or mentally wrong with him.’ My outstretched hand landed on my hip. I wasn’t going to demand them back. I returned to packing. ‘He just doesn’t feel the need to have sex that often.’

  ‘I am troubled. There is much bed play on my home world.’

  I bounced on the suitcase. The zips inched closer. ‘That,’ bounce ‘will no,’ thrrrup ‘be a problem.’

  ‘He is unmated. On Vayhalun, he will be exotic. Covetable. What if someone quests to bed him?’

  ‘Quests?’ I choked on laughter. He sounded so serious. ‘Like slaying monsters and hunting treasure for the hand of the bonny maid?’

  He nodded. ‘There will be contests of strength.’