The Lost Planet Series Boxed Set: Books 1-5 Read online

Page 34


  I give my mother one last stare before I scamper off. I’ve barely made it to the door to swipe my keycard when it rolls open. A mort several years older than me and dressed completely in zu-gear, yanks me up by the arms.

  “Let me go!” I wail. “Mother! Mother!”

  “Run, Draven!” she calls out.

  I squirm in his strong grip. When I see his eyes behind the glass, betrayal cuts me open.

  Breccan.

  He’s always so nice to me and teaches me things. How to hunt. How to scout for danger. How to read. He even looks after little Hadrian now.

  But now…

  “You’re sick,” he says, his voice tight with sadness. “We must try and—”

  Images of those things inside of me eating away at my bones suddenly blackens my thoughts. I grow feral in his grip and screech as I squirm to get away. My claws rake along his zu-gear, but don’t puncture the material.

  He shouts to someone to bring the sedative.

  The next few moments are a blur.

  Then nothing.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Mother? Are we in The Eternals?

  No one answers…

  * * *

  “Draven!” Molly cries out, dragging me from the past. “You’re trembling. What’s wrong?”

  My bones buzz with the reminder of the past. The way my bones felt as though things were crawling inside of them, gnawing them hollow. I know I’m free from The Rades, but that disease still haunts me. That disease took my mother.

  I look around frantically, trying to place exactly where we are. Anything to steal my attention away from that fateful night when she went to The Eternals and I went to a reform cell.

  Maybe not right away.

  But eventually.

  At first, they tried to treat me.

  But then, they simply wanted to keep me away from the others.

  Breccan, only eighteen revolutions old, held me when I was too weak. He roared with me when I needed to rage over the injustice of it all. He listened when I needed to talk. I was ten revolutions old, but during those many micro-revolutions, I aged well beyond my years. When the madness became too great to handle, I spent what felt like eons locked away in the dark. Those times still come to me in the form of terrors in the night. I can’t shake those memories away no matter how I try.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Molly urges.

  And with a shaky sigh, I do.

  We walk, and I talk. I tell her of my mother—before the dreadful disease took her. I tell her of watching her suffer. I tell her of my own suffering. The pain still ravages my heart, and this, too, I tell her. By the time I’ve finished, we’ve reached the mouth of the crevasse, and Molly is sobbing.

  “Don’t cry, my mate,” I rumble. “I do not wish to push my anguish into your arms.”

  She gives me a Molly mate hug. The sort of hug that seeps deep inside of me. It chases away the lingering shadows. Brightens places that have never seen light.

  “Your anguish is a part of you, Draven. Just like my anguish is a part of me. I’m not crying because you upset me. I’m crying for you, Draven. For all you’ve gone through and what you lost,” she says, her voice shaky.

  I rest my visor’s glass against hers, so I can see her lovely face. We share a moment before I pull away and hunt for my rope. After tethering us together, I clench my jaw as I worry about the travel through this channel.

  “Stay behind me, and cut anything that comes near us,” I instruct. “I’ll cover us from the front.”

  “We’ve got this, boo.”

  I don’t know what a boo is, but my mate likes to make up names for me. I think of them as her hug words. Like verbal squeezes to my heart. They affect me all the same. Lift me up and power me to continue on.

  With my mate, I’ll always keep moving forward.

  The shadows don’t own me anymore.

  I have my very own sun in the dark, chasing away the monsters.

  11

  Molly

  It’s like trying to walk through a tornado.

  Impossible.

  But, somehow, with Draven leading the way, anything seems possible.

  I tuck my chin down and force one foot in front of the other. My thighs tremble under the strain, and I’ve given up trying to moderate my breathing. I’m sure Draven can hear my heaving over the comms, but if he does, he doesn’t mention it.

  The red-orange dust obliterates most of the light, and what little is left is hazy-red, battering my protective visor. It amazes me how the morts have survived on this brutal planet for so long when every inch of it seems designed to wipe out life instead of help sustain it. I grasp the tether more firmly at the thought and keep pushing forward. One step at a time.

  That’s how I’ve survived so far.

  One step at a time.

  Thinking the word survive has the memory of meeting Draven for the first time springing to the forefront. I begin to hum the song again without thinking as we trek on, the journey seemingly endless. I don’t realize it for a few minutes, but Draven begins to sing along with me, his voice sure and baritone.

  Of course, it doesn’t take long before the exertion is too strenuous to keep singing, but I hum along with Draven with every step, focusing on the words, the melody, instead of the endlessness.

  “Watch your nog!” Draven shouts suddenly, then reaches back, shoving my head down between my legs. Exhausted from the strain, my legs buckle, and I fold into a crouch.

  “What is it?” I yell once I catch my breath.

  Once the danger has passed, Draven carefully helps me to my feet. As he checks my suit and gear for damage, he explains, “Rocks, debris from the mountain that broke off during the geostorms. We must be careful. If I tell you to get down, you get down without hesitating. Will you do this for me?”

  His voice is urgent, pleading. Recognizing his desperation as fear for my safety, I nod. “Of course. As long as you don’t put yourself in any danger either.”

  Draven leans closer to press the face of his gear against mine. I close my eyes and imagine him holding me like he had the night before. “I have no desire to meet The Eternals, Molly. Not anymore.”

  I read the gravity of his words in his eyes and tears spring to mine before I push the rush of emotion down and back. Not now. I couldn’t save my own child, but I will save Aria’s. “Later,” I tell him. “Let’s get out of this mess, and then we’ll do the dirty.”

  Draven winces comically. “Dirty?” he asks with a shudder. “Must we?”

  Despite the precariousness of our situation and the constant howl and threat from the flying rocks, I laugh. “Sex, Draven. Sex.”

  He quirks his head then turns around. “We morts do not like getting dirty. Dirt contains germs and can be dangerous. But I agree that mating can sometimes be so.” He glances over his shoulder and gives me a heated look. “I’ll get dirty, but only for you, my mate.”

  “Then, let’s get going and get to the other side.”

  We travel for hours more, dodging missiles of jagged rock. Out of nowhere, Draven is struck by a boulder the size of a small squirrel. He flips, ass over tea kettle, and lands some dozen feet away, still for a few long, heart-wrenching moments. Still holding the tether, I inch my way toward his still body, my heart in my throat.

  When I reach him, I huddle down and shake his shoulder. “Draven?” I say over the comms. “Draven, are you okay?”

  He doesn’t respond. My heart lurches into my throat. “Draven!”

  “Mortarekker, I must be getting old. I couldn’t move fast enough.”

  I melt over him like a pile of hot wax. “You scared me. Are you hurt?”

  “My pride is a bit bruised, but I am well.” Holding the tether for balance, he gets to his feet with a groan. “We must keep going, or we’ll be here when it gets dark.”

  “Oh no, uh-uh, no, sir. We’re not going anywhere if you’re hurt. We can find somewhere to stay for the night and let you rest.�
��

  Draven gestures around us at our dusty surroundings. “Where would you suggest? The vacuu-pod would blow away in seconds. We must keep going.”

  He starts to leave again, and I plant my feet until he looks back at me in frustration. “We will keep going until we find a suitable place for shelter, and then we’ll stop for the night.” When he glares at me, I add, “Either we find a place for shelter or I’ll sit my happy ass down right here and won’t move another inch.”

  Instead of getting mad, like I expect, Draven smiles at me, which makes me a little uneasy until he says, “My mate is a fighter. I like this. Fine. We’ll keep going until we find a suitable place for the vacuu-pod.”

  I didn’t really expect him to agree with me, so he’s already gone several feet ahead by the time I catch up with him. The winds seem to increase in intensity the longer the day grows until we’re nearly leaning forward to touch the ground in the effort to keep upright. Each step only brings us precious inches forward, and I’m already regretting my stubbornness. Finding shelter in this desolate place when we can barely see will be next to impossible.

  Eventually Draven directs me to inspect the right side of the crevasse while he canvases the left. Unable to see through the thick sheets of dust, I have to rely on touch through the padded gloves. Even holding my hand out to palpate the rock walls on my side proves difficult with the gusting wind, but I force myself to do it.

  For Draven.

  I’m humming another song to myself some time later when my hand suddenly disappears into nothingness, and I fall to the side, pushed by momentum and the relentless gusts. A scream tears from my throat as I tumble into darkness and crash to the ground with a breath-stealing flump.

  The comms fill with Draven’s shouted, “Molllyyyyy!”

  My bones and joints aching from the impact, I lie there for a moment until I get my bearings. When I can speak, I say, “I’m okay, but I think I’ve found our cave.”

  “Stay there,” Draven instructs. “I’m coming.”

  As I wait for him to backtrack and reach the opening of the cave, I look around to see where exactly there is. It’s less of a cave and more of a passageway, really. A crevasse inside the crevasse. The floor is covered in inches of the red-orange dust and the walls are a solid granite-looking rock of ebony, glossy and glittering with shards of lighter rock. A blue light beckons from the far end of the passage, a beacon in all the crimson.

  Draven joins me a short while later. “Are you all right?” Before I can answer, he’s crossing the small space to my side where he carefully inspects my suit. I wait patiently until he’s done, understanding his need for reassurance. “You’ve done well.”

  “I don’t think this first room is big enough for the vacuu-pod, but if we follow the passage, we may find a bigger opening, and we’ll get farther away from all the dust.”

  “Follow me,” he says, heading toward the blue light.

  We make our way to the back of the passage, leaving the howling red glow from the crevasse behind. “What is this blue light?” I ask. “Have you ever seen anything like it before?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll be careful in case there is anything dangerous. I will protect you.” He retrieves his zonnoblaster from his pack and holds it at the ready.

  I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him say he’ll take care of me. I can protect myself, but it’s comforting to know I don’t have to do everything alone. With Draven as my mate, I won’t ever have to be alone again.

  The deeper we go into the mountain, the brighter the blue light glows. Dual threads of apprehension and excitement weave themselves inside me. It could be some sort of ship. Maybe we could use it to find Willow. I dismiss the thought before it can completely form. Willow is gone. There will be no saving her.

  “Don’t worry, my mate. These caves feel abandoned.”

  “I’m not worried,” I answer.

  “You were singing your La-La song over the comms,” Draven responds.

  “I was not,” I snap.

  “You always La-La when you’re feeling anxious. There’s no need. We would have seen signs of other life if there were something living here.”

  “I do not sing when I’m anxious.”

  “That’s true,” he says as we round a curve and then another. “You sing when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re working. Except you sing different tunes with each mood. You’re my little songbird.”

  “Shut it, Lieutenant, and keep walking.”

  “Yes, mate,” he answers, and even though I can’t see his face, I can hear the smile in his voice over the comms.

  When there is no more dust and the sound of the howling wind can no longer be heard, Draven comes to an abrupt stop. I slam into his back, but his great form doesn’t even jolt.

  “What is it?” I ask. Then, I look around his shoulder and gasp.

  The passageway dead-ends at an immense cavern filled will brilliant turquoise water.

  “A pool!”

  A beautiful, glimmering pool. After the long, dusty walk through the crevasse and days of staring at the barren, desert-like landscape of the planet surrounding the facility, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful water can be. The blue glow seems to be emanating from the water itself.

  I automatically go to take a step toward it when Draven tugs at my arm. “What? It’s gorgeous.”

  “We don’t know if it’s contaminated. Before we do anything, let’s set up the vacuu-pod, and I’ll measure the R-levels.”

  With a mournful look at the shimmering pool, I follow Draven across the cavern to a smooth patch of gravel beach deep inside. As Draven sets up the vacuu-pod, I study our surroundings and find the pool of water isn’t the only thing different. I’d been so distracted by the water, I didn’t notice the myriad of plant life blooming from the most unlikely places. Cracks in the black rock. Streamers of dark blue seaweed fluttering under the surface.

  Once Draven finishes setting up the vacuu-pod, he joins me, also in awe of the cavern. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “You’ve never been here before?” I ask, stepping closer to the pool.

  “We tend to stick near to facility. It’s safer.” He pulls a device out of his pack. “Let me check the R-levels here.”

  “Are you sure I can’t go swimming?”

  “Not unless you want to catch a disease.”

  I slump and sit at the entrance of the vacuu-pod as I watch him take samples from the gravel, the water, the air, and even the plant life. He shakes his head each time, his brow furrowed.

  “What is it?”

  “This place…it’s as though it’s untouched. Life flourishes here. These plants, this water, I’ve never seen R-levels so low. I have to take these samples back for Galen to study. I don’t know what it means, but he will.”

  When he’s finished, I tug him inside the vacuu-pod. As much as I want to take a dip in the pool, we have a goal and we’re both exhausted. “Maybe we can come back to take more samples. Bring Galen to study. If he gives the okay, maybe we can even come back to go swimming. The dust storm out there would be worth it if we could go swimming.”

  “You are fearless, aren’t you, Molly mate?” Draven says as he pulls off both of our gear.

  “Only with you,” I answer.

  In minutes we’re bundled in the thin blankets, Draven tucking me under his chin and pulling me close. “And I with you,” I hear before succumbing to sleep.

  12

  Draven

  I wake warm—too warm—and with my cock hard. Judging by the way I feel, I would say we’ve only been asleep for a few hours. I doubt the sun has come up yet. I should go back to sleep, but then I realize why my cock is hard. Hot lips kiss the side of my neck as my mate strokes at me through my unders.

  “You must get some rest,” I murmur, my voice thick from sleep.

  Her words are warm against my neck. “I’ll rest better if I’m…you know…”

  “Relaxed f
rom the toxica?”

  “Yes. My mind is racing.”

  I roll her onto her back and kiss her in the blue glow from the nearby pool that’s visible through the window of our small vacuu-pod. It takes some wriggling, but we manage to undress completely. There’s not much room to service her like I wish with my mouth, so I have to settle for my fingers. I retract my claws as not to hurt her and massage her nub that vibrates with need. Easily, I work her up into a state that has her crying out my name. Then, I press the head of my thickness against her slick opening. With a hard push of my hips, I drive all the way into the depths of my mate. Her body is tight, hot, and hugs me in a way that makes me nearly feral with the need to claim her with my seed.

  A snarl leaves my lips as I buck into her. Her useless claws scratch at my scarred skin and moans rip from her throat. I attack her supple lips, relishing in the sweet taste of her. She likes sliding her tongue in between the groove of my forked tongue, which seems to make my cock twitch with delight.

  “Oh God,” she whimpers. “Harder.”

  I slam into her with a desperate fury. Her nog thunks against the vacuu-pod wall, making her giggle. With each laugh, her cunt clenches around me.

  Not ready.

  I’m not done devouring her.

  My lips find her neck, and I suckle her skin there. She whines when my fangs scrape along her flesh. The urge to bite her is nearly overwhelming. All of Calix’s and Avrell’s training is at the forefront of my mind. Diseases. Pathogens. Germs. None of that matters with Molly. If she has something, I want it too. Where she goes, I go. Even to The Eternals.

  “Harderharderharder,” she chants, her fingers sliding into my hair. She tugs at it and cries out, “Do it.”

  My mind grows black with lust and need as my fangs pierce her flesh. She moans loudly, her feet digging into my backside. The moment her blood floods across my tongue, I feel as though The Rades has overtaken me again. But instead of those monsters inside my nog, it’s my mate’s sweet moans that fill me up. I suck at the wound I’ve made before pulling away, so I can look at her. She cradles my cheeks with her palms and locks eyes with me. We remain transfixed on one another until my sac seizes up in pleasure, and I explode with my release. My cock spurts out every drop of my seed, filling my mate with what I hope is a little mortling of our own one solar.