NAFFON

HOW THE ALIENS WERE WON

HONEY PHILLIPS

Copyright © 2024 by Honey Phillips

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair

Edited by Lindsay York at LY Publishing Services

Created with Vellum

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

Dora picked up the note she’d written and read through it one more time. She’d agonized over the wording all week, but she was afraid it still didn’t really convey her reasons for leaving.

I’m so sorry for leaving like this, Mama. I know I’m a coward for not telling you I was leaving in person, but every time I tried I couldn’t find the words. But I can’t stay here any longer. I meant what I said last night—I’m very happy that you and Temel found each other—but it just makes me realize what I’m missing. I don’t think there’s a place for me on the farm.

There’s something else I didn’t tell you. The day we moved, I wasn’t mailing letters. I went to see Mr. Raven. You see, Papa gave me some of my first mama’s jewels when she died. They’ve been in a box in the bank all this time, but I finally asked Mr. Raven to sell them for me.

I thought about moving back to Wainwright, but there are too many memories there, and too many people who would judge me. I’ve decided to use the money from the sale and make a new start in a new place where Angel and I can truly be mother and daughter. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll send word as soon as I’m settled.

All my love, Dora

It would just have to do, she decided as she placed the note in the middle of her neatly made bed, then carefully put a book on each side to make sure it wouldn’t fly away when the door was opened. She didn’t want Ida to worry about her disappearance.

She’ll worry anyway, her conscience insisted, but she did her best to ignore it. And even if Ida were concerned, she had Temel, her new alien mate, to console her. Dora was happy for her, she really was. She knew that her mother—her stepmother actually—hadn’t had the easiest time being married to her father. And it had only gotten worse after he died a year ago and left them almost penniless.

When Ida first married her father, Dora had been determined not to like her. She didn’t need a new mother, especially one who was so different from her own mother. Her mother had been tall and slender and fragile. Ida was short and plump and practical. It had taken several years for Dora to see how hard Ida worked and to realize how much Ida loved her.

It had taken even longer for her to realize that the father she idolized was not the easiest person to live with, nor the most responsible. The combination of that realization and his unexpected death had knocked her completely off balance—and made her an easy target for a charming smile and a pretense of kindness.

Although she bitterly regretted her naivete, she couldn’t regret the result and she smiled as she turned to her daughter. Her precious baby with her big brown eyes and adorable little tuft of brown curls. Angel deserved the best life Dora could give her—which was why she was sneaking out of their new home in the middle of the night.

The local town of Wainwright had been established on old-fashioned Earth standards. Having a baby out of wedlock was simply not done. Dora had been so afraid that Angel would be an outcast that she’d begged Ida to pretend that Angel was her daughter instead. Because Ida loved her, she’d agreed, even though she’d warned Dora she would regret it. As usual, she’d been right.

She desperately wanted to claim Angel as her own, but Wainwright hadn’t changed. She’d been unable to see a way out of her dilemma—until she remembered her mother’s jewels. They’d been deposited in the bank in trust for her nineteenth birthday. Her birthday had just passed and Mr. Raven, the bank manager, had very kindly and very discreetly arranged for their sale.

She patted the credits in her inner pocket, fighting back another wave of guilt. Mr. Raven had thought she wanted the funds to help Ida. If they’d been as desperate as they’d been a few weeks ago, she would have gladly given them to her, but now her mama had a new alien husband and a big house and a farm. All Dora had was her perfect daughter and a desperate desire for a new life where she didn’t have to pretend that her daughter was her sister.

“It’ll be worth it, won’t it, sweetheart?” she whispered as she picked up the baby’s basket—the one that Naffon had provided.

Naffon. The big golden alien was yet another reason to leave the farm. She didn’t trust him - or more honestly, she didn’t trust herself with him. A few weeks before they’d been faced with having to leave the house in town they could no longer afford, she’d had a brief encounter with him. Despite the briefness, every moment was etched in her memory.

She’d been walking down the street when she’d spotted Mrs. Raven coming the other way. Unlike her kind, quiet husband, Mildred Raven was a mean-spirited gossip, and the last thing Dora wanted was to be trapped in a conversation with her. She ducked quickly into the alley between the general store and the bank. She cast a nervous look over her shoulder as she hurried away—and bumped into a very large, very warm body. The surprise made her stumble, and two big hands curved around her arms to keep her upright.

“Now what do we have here? A pretty little mouse in a hurry?”

The deep voice sent a not unpleasant shock through her system as she looked up, way up, into a handsome nonhuman face. An alien face with golden skin and a golden mane and impossibly bright blue eyes that were fastened on her face.

She should have demanded that he release her immediately, but she didn’t. Afterwards she told herself it was because she was too stunned by the encounter. While aliens did visit Wainwright, they were usually familiar faces from the ranch in the mountains. This male was a stranger.

He smiled, a slow, heated smile that sent a curl of warmth through her stomach.

“What’s the rush, little mouse?”

It was none of his business, but she answered him anyway.

“I was trying to get away—”

The smile vanished as he growled. It should have frightened her. Instead, she found it oddly exciting, especially since their bodies were so close that she could feel the vibration against her breasts. His anger on her behalf made her feel… safe, in a way she hadn’t felt since her father’s death.

“Not like that,” she said quickly, smiling up at him. “Just trying to avoid the worst gossip in town.”

He spun her around so quickly that she felt dizzy, and now his back was facing the entrance to the alley, blocking her from sight.

“I’ll hide you,” he purred as one of his hands came up to curve around her neck as his thumb gently stroked her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

“Yes,” she whispered, still caught up in that intent look and the big body curved protectively around her.

“Such a sweet little mouse.” The smile was back as his thumb moved from her cheek to her mouth, feathering across her lips. His skin didn’t feel like human skin. It had a soft, velvety texture that left a flurry of sensation in its wake.

Giving in to an impulse she couldn’t explain, she flicked her tongue out to taste him. Another purr vibrated through her as he pressed his thumb to her parted lips.

“Such a sweet little mouth.”

Still driven by that same reckless impulse, she licked the tip of his thumb. The heated blue gaze grew even more intense as he withdrew the digit and brought it to his mouth.

“Very sweet. I want to taste you, little mouse.”

He didn’t wait for a response, although he kept his eyes on her face as his head descended.

Then he kissed her. The touch of his lips against hers sent a rush of excitement through her veins, and the warmth in her stomach intensified as she leaned into him.

He made a pleased sound, the rumbling vibration echoing through her body as he lifted her up on her toes, pressing their bodies even closer together. When his tongue swept along her lips, she opened eagerly. He tasted like cinnamon and dark spice and something that was entirely him.

His mouth wasn’t rough but he demanded a response, and she gave it, burying her fingers in that thick golden mane as he explored. Even the slight prick of what felt like fangs only added to her excitement. And when his hand dropped to cup her breast, she leaned into it eagerly—until she felt the tingle that meant her milk was about to let down.

The reality of her situation came rushing back. She wasn’t the reckless, impulsive girl she’d been; she was a mother.

What the hell am I doing?

She was making the exact same mistake she’d made before—letting herself be swayed by a charming smile and a feeling of safety. She shoved furiously at his chest, and even though she had about as much chance of moving him as an insect did of moving a tree, he raised his head.

“I didn’t say you could kiss me,” she snapped.

His smile was replaced by irritation and… hurt? Before she could decide, his voice dropped to a lazy, mocking drawl.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t. And until a bug flew up your bonnet, you were kissing me back. Most delightfully.”

“I didn’t want to!”

It wasn’t entirely true, but perhaps he recognized the despair in her voice because he took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Then I apologize for misreading the situation.”

He hadn’t misread it, but she didn’t have the courage to tell him. Instead, she picked up her skirts and ran, her cheeks burning and her body aching.

“Idiot,” she muttered. “Didn’t I learn my lesson the first time?”

He wasn’t any better than Malcolm and would no doubt be moving on just as quickly. She’d told herself she’d never see him again, and refused to admit how desolate that made her feel. And then they’d ended up on this farm with two other alien warriors—and Naffon.

She’d still been mortified by her behavior, even though she tried to tell herself that it was his fault, and did her best to avoid him. That task wasn’t easy considering that he lived on the farm as well and shared most of their meals. Although she tried never to address him directly and although he’d stopped trying to talk to her, she couldn’t help listening when he spoke to the others. Couldn’t help seeing that charming smile and the quick flash of vulnerability in those bright blue eyes.

It also didn’t help that he kept doing small, thoughtful things for her, like providing the padded basket that gave her an easy way to keep Angel at her side without having to hold her all the time. Like retrieving a bushel of apples from the storeroom after he’d heard her mention how much she liked them. Like leaving a bouquet of wildflowers in her room.

As much as she would have liked to believe in his sincerity, she’d been fooled once by the appearance of kindness, and she no longer trusted her own judgment. But he was impossible to ignore, and the longer she stayed on the farm, the more she was afraid of succumbing to his charm.

I can’t take that chance, she thought, as she looked around her room one last time. The plain walls and bare wooden floors were nothing like her room in town with its floral wallpaper and lace-draped bed, but it had begun to feel like home. I’ll just have to make a new home.

She slipped quietly through the door, then paused long enough to take a quick peek into the room next to hers. Her brother Tommy was sprawled across his bed in his usual restless fashion, one arm over his head and the other clutching the stuffed animal he’d had since he was a baby. Tommy was another positive result from her father’s marriage to Ida, and she was going to miss him desperately.

As much as she wanted to give him a last hug and kiss, he was both loud and impulsive. Better to let him sleep than take the chance of waking him.

He can come visit once we get settled, she told herself, and reluctantly moved on. The big kitchen was as neat as always, and she carefully avoided looking at the table where they’d shared so many meals as she crossed to the back porch.

The twin moons were only slender crescents against the sky and other than a single pool of golden light from a fixture on the barn, darkness surrounded her as she headed down the path to the stables. A harsh screech from the woods made her jump, her heart racing. She still wasn’t used to living in the country instead of in town. Although she reminded herself that there were few natural predators on Cresca, and none in the vicinity, she closed the stable door behind her with a sigh of relief.

Now all she had to do was get Lady harnessed to the carriage and drive away without rousing anyone. She’d never actually harnessed the horse before, but she’d watched it being done often enough and she eventually managed. As she placed Angel’s basket on the seat and tucked her bag behind it, she was painfully aware that it was very little with which to start a new life. But she had her carefully stowed credits and a plan—it would have to be enough.

She led the horse out of the stable, and carefully closed the door behind her before climbing into the carriage. With one last look back at the big, silent house, she set off into the night.

CHAPTER 2

Naffon raked his hands through his mane and did his best to suppress a frustrated growl. Another dead end. How could one small woman and a baby, not to mention a horse and carriage, disappear so completely? He’d had an easier time tracking enemy spies during the war. Another growl threatened at the memories but he pushed them aside with the familiarity of long practice. The most important thing now was finding Dora and Angel. Where had he gone wrong?

He’d been present when they had found Dora’s note and Ida had asked Temel to read it aloud. Every word had filled him with guilt and remorse. When she showed up at the farm with her family, he’d been overjoyed to see her again. He’d made far too many trips to Wainwright since their first encounter, trying to track down the elusive little female, but even her scent had evaded him.

That first meeting was still embedded in his memories—those big brown eyes looking up at him with a trusting innocence, the way she’d responded to his kiss with a passion that was far from innocent, that sweet little body pressed against his, her delicious scent filling his head… No, he couldn’t regret what had happened between them even though it meant that his delight in her appearance at the farm was entirely one-sided.

She’d refused to talk to him and barely acknowledged his existence. Yet he’d also caught her watching him and had managed to rein in his usual impatience. He’d started to woo her with small, thoughtful gestures, hoping she would come to consider him a worthy male, despite that first passionate kiss—and despite his own doubts about his worth.

Although she worked hard to assist Ida and never voiced a complaint, he’d suspected that she wasn’t happy. He’d hoped that with time she would also settle into life on the farm. Instead, she’d decided there was no place for her or her daughter and left.

I should have told her how I felt. I should have made her listen, he thought once again, but that too he pushed aside. There would be time for that once he found her. He’d immediately announced that he would go after her and he’d been saddling his horse in the barn when Temel caught up with him.

“Are you sure about this?” His former commander studied him thoughtfully. “She has not been… receptive to your presence.”

“I know, but I should not have let it go on for so long. I should have made her listen.”

“Listen to you about what?”

He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the buckle on his saddlebag.

“We met in town once, before they arrived on the farm, and I kissed her. She was quite willing,” he added hastily, but Temel only nodded.

“You may be impetuous, Naffon, but I know you would never force your attentions on a female.”

The quiet confidence in Temel’s voice gave him the courage to meet his eyes.

“Although I would swear by all the gods that she was willing when the kiss began, she suddenly pushed me away and ran. I didn’t want to frighten her by pursuing her, but I’ve regretted it ever since. Just as I regret not having this discussion with her. I couldn’t find her then, but I will find her now. At least this time I know her name.”

“You didn’t even exchange names?” Temel shook his head, looking half-amused, half-dismayed. “And once you find her?”

“Explain that there is a place here on the farm for her and her daughter, and bring her back.”

This time Temel looked away, frowning down at the ground.

“You were not surprised to find out that Angel was her daughter instead of her sister?”

He snorted. “As far as I was concerned, it was obvious from the first.”

“And the fact that she has a child does not bother you?”

“Of course not. I want—” His words came to an abrupt halt, not entirely sure what he wanted. But he was sure about one thing. “I want to know that she—that they—are safe.”

“In that case, I have a suggestion. You’re right that you need to speak with her. But if she feels trapped on the farm, forcing her to return will not help matters.”

“I don’t think that’s why she left,” he interrupted, and Temel shook his head.

“Perhaps not, but my suggestion is that instead of demanding that she listen to you, you should listen to her instead. Ask her what she wants.”

“Of course I would listen…” he began, then hesitated.

His vision of their reunion had been more along the lines of sweeping her into his arms and carrying her home. There had not been much talking or listening involved. From the look on Temel’s face he clearly guessed his intentions.

“I will listen,” he said finally.

“Good,” Temel said, his lips quirking. “But remember that there is more at stake here than your pride.”

“I know,” he growled.

He had a great deal of respect for the older warrior and valued his advice, but that didn’t mean he liked having his shortcomings pointed out.

Temel chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “I wish you well.”

But in spite of Temel’s good wishes it was now a week later and he was still no closer to finding her. Even though she’d said she was moving away, he had initially headed to Wainwright, hoping that she might have at least passed through town. There was no sign of her. Next he decided that if she were looking for a place where an unmarried woman and her child would not be ostracized, she might have headed for Port Cantor or one of the larger cities where they didn’t hold such old-fashioned ideas.

He’d headed south along the main trading route, but after three days he hadn’t caught up with her and there had been no mention of her anywhere along the way. He’d sent a brief daily report back to Temel each day, trying not to reveal his frustration. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. But he would not give up. He’d already lost far too much; he wouldn’t lose her as well.

Instead he’d decided to cast a wider net. The town of Williamsburg was not on the most direct route to Port Cantor, but it was the nearest large town and contained a rail station. Outside the space port, the rail system was primitive at best and more used for the transportation of goods than people, but it was a starting point. Yet he’d found no sign of her here either.

He returned to the stables where he’d left his horse, trying to decide where to go next. There was little to the north except the great mountain range that split the continent. He’d been south and now west. Was there anything to the east? He was pulling a map out of his saddlebag when he heard two men enter the stables and quietly withdrew into the shadows of the stall.

Williamsburg was a predominantly human town, and while no one had given him any problems, he’d received a number of suspicious looks. Since he wasn’t in the mood for a potentially hostile encounter, it was easier just to avoid the humans. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered—he might even have welcomed a fight—but right now finding Dora and Angel was more important.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go for another drink?” one of the men asked.

“Nah. Hawkins will want to get the group moving early in the morning, and the last thing I want is a hangover while he’s yelling at me and everyone else. I’ll just head out to the way station tonight.”

“I don’t see how you do it, Blake. Three months in the wilderness? I’d go crazy.”

He could see the men now—a short, stocky one who was shaking his head as he spoke and a big man who was saddling a horse with quick and competent movements.

“Eh, it’s not that bad. I just have to make sure some damn fool settler doesn’t kill himself or get lost or fall into a river. The pay’s not bad, and when I get back I’ll take a month off. Besides, I was never that good at just sitting around.”

“But no tavern. No whiskey. No women.”

Blake grinned. “There’s always a lonely widow or two. Sometimes a lonely wife, for that matter. You’d be surprised at what can happen on the trail if you get… creative.”

The short man laughed and shook his head.

“I shoulda known. Well, I hope you find a merry widow on this trip. You can buy me a drink when you get back and tell me all about it.”

“Deal. See ya, Alan.”

As Alan nodded and left, Naffon drew further back into the shadows, thinking about what he’d just heard. He’d assumed Dora was heading for a city, seeking a larger, more anonymous environment, but what if she’d decided to go somewhere more remote instead? She’d spent her life in a small town and perhaps she felt more comfortable in a similar place, as long as she could rewrite her past.

Trying to suppress a sudden surge of hope, he waited until Blake set off, then mounted his horse and followed him. The man led him to an outpost just outside town. A large assortment of wagons were clustered in an open field to one side of the outpost, ready to form a caravan. Where the hell was she going? And where was she?

Based on the number of fires he could see, many of the wagons were already occupied by settlers, but he didn’t see anything resembling her carriage. There was also an inn to one side of the field, along with a motley assortment of shops.

A big, sprawling building that had been extended in a somewhat haphazard manner, the inn bustled with activity and he decided to begin there. As Blake joined the group of wagons, Naffon dismounted and led his horse to the stableyard next to the inn. A grizzled old man frowned at him as he entered the stables.

“Two credits for the night. Four if you’re gonna share the stall with the horse. Six if you wanna place in the hay loft, although I should make it eight since some of the others are gonna bitch about sharing with an alien.”

“The hay loft?”

“No room in the inn. Gotta sleep somewhere.”

The old man held out his hand expectantly, and Naffon flipped him a two-credit coin.

“I’m looking for someone. I’ll decide on the sleeping arrangements later.”

“Suit yourself. Last stall on the left. You’re lucky. I’m almost outta room.”

Lucky? Lucky would be finding Dora, but he just nodded and led his horse down the aisle between the stalls. The old man was right—almost every stall was full—but he came to an abrupt halt when he recognized the occupant of one of the stalls. Lady. Did that mean Dora was here as well?

He quickly removed his horse’s saddle and made sure he had food and water before returning to the old man at the doors.

“The dapple grey mare on the right—is she for sale? I have a friend who’s been looking for a gentle older horse for his wife,” he added when the man gave him a suspicious look from beneath thick grey eyebrows.

“Not that one. She’s being sent somewhere back East along with a carriage. Driver’s picking ‘em up tomorrow.”

Sent back? Had Dora left the horse here and moved on?

“That’s a shame. My friend is a generous man.”

The old man shrugged. “Don’t suppose it’ll do any good, but the lady who owns her is staying at the inn. You could ask her, assuming she’ll talk to you.” A hint of a smile crossed the wrinkled face. “She might at that. Pretty little thing, but she’s got spirit.”

It had to be Dora, but he kept his voice casual.

“I might just do that. Thanks.”

He tried to keep his pace unhurried as he crossed the stable yard, despite the impatience filling him. He passed through an open passageway into the first of a series of courtyards. Lighted windows along one side of the court revealed a series of private parlors, and he scanned them quickly.

There! Dora was standing by a fireplace, looking even prettier in the soft glow of the firelight. He could see the basket he’d made for Angel on the table next to her and a great sigh of relief shuddered through him. Thank the gods he’d found them. He sent a quick message to Temel through his comm, noticing that the signal was very weak. No matter, it should improve as they made their way back.

He found the door to the inner passage and headed towards the parlor. He was about to knock when he heard her outraged voice.

“Get your hands off of me.”

Throwing the door open, he found a human male gripping Dora’s arm as she tried to get away from him. A growl escaped as he stalked into the room. He was sure he saw relief flash across Dora’s face, but he was focused on the bastard touching her.

“She told you to remove your hand. Now.”

The man paled as he approached but did his best to sneer at him.

“Why should I? You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“I have every right. Now get your hands off my wife.”

CHAPTER 3

His wife?

Dora had never been so grateful to see anyone as she was to see Naffon striding into the parlor. Sawyer had proven to be yet another mistake. He’d been so kind over the past few days, helping her purchase the necessary supplies for her trip and making the arrangements to send Lady and the carriage back to the farm. When he told her that he’d arranged for a private parlor so she wouldn’t have to take Angel into the noisy, crowded dining hall, she’d actually been grateful.

But as soon as they were alone, he tried to put his arms around her and kiss her. Her attempt at a tactful refusal had only angered him, and he’d told her he expected to be repaid for his generosity. It was painfully clear what form of payment he expected. She’d been about to scream for help—hoping that someone in the busy inn would care enough to intervene—when Naffon entered. But wife?

Under the circumstances she wasn’t going to argue, so she played along.

“It’s about time you showed up, husband. I’ve had to make all the arrangements myself.”

“Wife? You’re married to one of them?”

Despite Sawyer’s obvious disgust, he hadn’t released her arm, and Naffon took another step closer. He was always big, but his anger combined with the small size of the room made him loom even larger over the smaller man. She wasn’t surprised when Sawyer finally let go of her with a muttered curse.

Naffon immediately put his arm around her and tucked her against his side. Just as it had that day in town, being surrounded by his big body made her feel safe.

“Wife?” Sawyer repeated, scowling. “That ain’t no half-breed baby.”

“She is my daughter.”

The absolute certainty in his voice silenced Sawyer for a minute before he stuck out his chin belligerently.

“Then you owe me for all the… help I’ve been giving your wife.”

Sawyer managed to make the words sound disgustingly suggestive, and Naffon growled again before he looked down at her.

“Did he tell you there was a fee associated with his assistance, Dora?”

“No. He said he was only too happy to help.”

And she’d been fool enough to believe him.

“Then we don’t owe you anything. Now leave.”

“Hell no. I paid for this room.”

Despite his attempt at bravado, Sawyer gave him an uneasy look. Naffon shot a quick glance down at her, and she nodded.

“Then we will leave.” He released her long enough to lean down into the other man’s face. “And I’d better not catch you anywhere near my wife again.”

Without waiting for an answer, he picked up Angel’s basket, put his arm around her again, and headed for the door.

“She’s the one who came to me,” Sawyer muttered, recovering his composure, but they both ignored him.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded as soon as they were out in the corridor. “And what was that business about being married?”

He took a quick look down the corridor as a burst of laughter came from the other end. The inn was teeming with people, many of them part of the settlement caravan. Like her, they’d decided to splurge on one last night inside before six weeks of sleeping on the trail. Naffon shook his head.

“Not here. Where are your rooms?”

“My room is up the stairs at the end of the corridor.”

“Then we will talk there,” he said firmly as he headed for the stairs.

She didn’t argue. He was probably right that they shouldn’t discuss anything in public, especially if she were to have any hope of maintaining her cover story. She’d told the wagon master that her husband had been delayed and was coming to join her later. He hadn’t been thrilled to find out that she’d be traveling alone, but he’d reluctantly agreed. At least he didn’t seem to have doubted her claim that she was married.

Sawyer hadn’t either. Not that it stopped him, she thought bitterly. How could she have been stupid enough to let herself be trapped alone with a man, no matter how kind, she wondered as they reached her room. She unlocked the door and they entered just as she spied one of the older ladies from the caravan giving her a scandalized look. Great. She managed a cheerful smile, hoping that Mrs. Taylor would accept the story that Naffon was her husband.

Then he was closing the door behind them and she was alone with a man again. But whatever his faults, she trusted Naffon not to try anything. Which was a good thing, she told herself firmly as the memory of their kiss skated through her mind once again. The resulting flush of heat annoyed her enough to round on him immediately.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded again.

“What were you doing alone with a predator?” he snapped.

Since his fangs were showing and his eyes flashing as he spoke, the irony wasn’t lost on her. She opened her mouth to tell him it was none of his business, then shut it again. He was right—she’d been foolish and he’d rescued her.

“He seemed very kind, and I thought he was just a nice older man. It appears my judgment of men is as bad as ever.”

He didn’t take offense at the pointed comment, the spark in his eyes turning from anger to amusement.

“Then it’s just as well I’m not a man, isn’t it, little mouse?”

Dammit. The teasing nickname also reminded her of their encounter.

“I’m not a mouse,” she said crossly.

“No? Isn’t that what you humans call those little creatures? The one with the big brown eyes and the soft brown fur?”

“Well, yes. But they’re native to Cresca, not the ones they had back on Earth.” Or so she’d heard. Her grandparents had been the ones who originally immigrated to the colony planet.

“Close enough,” he shrugged and placed Angel’s basket on the small table next to the window.

Other than the bed and a single straight-backed chair, it was the only piece of furniture in the room. The very small room. She hadn’t minded before, just grateful that she’d been able to find a room, but the diminutive size meant that Naffon was standing very close to her. His head almost brushed the ceiling, and she could feel the warmth of his body and catch his dark, spicy scent.

“Don’t change the subject,” she said, trying to discreetly back away from him but a single step back brought her up against the iron bed frame. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Why do you think? Your mother is very worried about you, and I volunteered to come after you and bring you back. Ask you to come back,” he amended quickly before she had a chance to tell him he had no authority over her.

“Didn’t she get my note? I told her not to worry.”

“She did, but of course she’s going to worry.”

He echoed her previous thoughts, and she winced, but she still shook her head.

“You can tell her I’m just fine, but I’m not going back.”

“Why not?” he asked softly. “Do you really think there’s no place for you at the farm?”

He was watching her face as he spoke, and he seemed genuinely interested in her answer. Before she could assemble her jumbled thoughts to explain, Angel gave her little whimpering cry. Saved by the baby. She brushed past him, ignoring another surge of heat at contact with that big warm body, and picked up her daughter.

“Hello, sweetheart. Did mean old Naffon wake you up?”

She knew she was being unfair—it was about time for Angel’s evening feeding—and a pang of guilt hit her when Naffon immediately gave her an apologetic look.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know. It’s all right, she’s just hungry.”

Angel snuffled sleepily against her neck as she cuddled her close. Naffon’s eyes dropped to her breasts, the blue gaze heating.

“Should I leave? I can wait outside.”

And cause even more gossip?

“You don’t have to leave.”

Instead, she pulled her shawl out of her bag and draped it over her shoulder as she sat down on the chair. Unbuttoning her blouse beneath the shawl was an awkward business, especially with Naffon watching her. By the time she’d managed and Angel started nursing, she was sure her cheeks were bright red.

“Do you want to continue this conversation after she’s finished?” he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m nursing, not braindead. You didn’t answer my question. Why did you claim that I was your wife?”

There was the briefest hesitation before he shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. There wasn’t any other place for him to sit, but he looked far too appealing there for her peace of mind.

“I thought it was a term that a human male would recognize and respect.”

“Hah. I’d already told everyone I was married—Sawyer didn’t seem to care.”

His fangs flashed again. “Why claim to have a mate?”

It was her turn to hesitate, but if he’d read her note he already knew.

“Because I was not married to Angel’s father,” she admitted, still ashamed of her gullibility. “I intend to start a new life in a new town where everyone assumes I have a husband—one who will die in a tragic accident before he can join me there.”

“This matters that much to you?”

“Yes. Not for me, but for her.”

Those bright blue eyes studied her, their expression unreadable.

“And that is why you do not wish to return to the farm?”

“It is. Everyone in Wainwright has accepted that Angel is my sister. It’s too late to claim her now.”

“There is nothing I can say to change your mind? You will not miss your mother and your brother?”

Her throat threatened to close. She’d been so busy over the past week that she’d had little time to think about what she’d left behind. She would miss them both so much. And she would miss the comfortable kitchen and the quiet beauty of the farm. And she would miss Naffon.

She forced herself to nod, trying to sound confident.

“Of course I will, but I hope that once I’m established, they’ll come to visit me.”

“I see.” He raked his hand through his mane as he stared absently out the window behind her, then gave a firm nod. “In that case I will accompany you.”

“But you can’t,” she protested, ignoring her immediate flash of relief.

“Of course I can.” He grinned, his teeth very white and very sharp. “After all, they’re already expecting a husband. And now you will have one.”

CHAPTER 4

Naffon watched in amusement as Dora’s pretty mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly trying to think of a response. Not that it would make any difference—he had absolutely no intention of leaving her alone as prey for that despicable male, or any other male who might come along. But the idea of claiming her as his bride was extremely appealing, even if it were only temporary.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said finally.

“Why not? This way you will have a live husband. No one can doubt my existence if I accompany you.”

“And then you’ll leave?”

He didn’t want to agree, but then he was hardly a suitable husband. He intended to say yes, but that wasn’t what came out.

“I will leave once you no longer need me.”

She gave him a suspicious look, but eventually nodded. An awkward silence fell, and she used the opportunity to switch Angel to her other breast. The shawl slipped in the process, just enough for him to catch a fleeting glimpse of a swollen red nipple. He was already half-erect just from being so close to her, but that one glimpse and he was suddenly fully erect and aching. Fuck. His reaction to her was going to be… inconvenient.

“I suppose it could work,” she admitted reluctantly when she finally looked at him again. “Do you really think anyone will believe Angel is your child?”

“Why not? How many humans are familiar with the result of a mating between a human and an Ustani? Perhaps your genes dominated in our daughter.”

Our daughter. An unexpected pang of longing struck him at the words, but he refused to let it show.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

She was still frowning, but her expression softened as she looked down.

“Have you had enough, sweetheart?”

He forced himself to look away as she gently detached the baby.

“Why don’t you let me hold her?” he offered. “I might as well begin the role now.”

“Then you need to learn to change her diaper too.”

She gave him a challenging look, but he only nodded. As long as it wasn’t blood, bodily fluids didn’t disturb him. He watched carefully as she changed Angel, but it was a simple enough process.

“These diapers are worth their weight in gold,” she said as she took the soiled one into the sanitary facility. “Mr. Anderson can’t keep them in stock. Not only do they keep her dry for a long time, they come clean with just a quick wash.”

She hung the diaper over the towel rack, then returned and picked up Angel. Although she clearly had her doubts about handing her daughter to him, she finally held out her arms.

“Here.”

He very carefully took the baby, holding her against him the way he had seen Dora do so many times back at the farm. Angel yawned and seemed to snuggle against him, small and warm and precious. His chest suddenly ached, but he grinned at her.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I guess not. You look more comfortable than I expected. Have you been around babies before? Do you have a younger brother or sister?”

His whole body tensed and Angel reacted, her eyes flying open. He forced his muscles to relax and tucked her a little closer.

“I’ve never been around an infant.”

It was all he could bring himself to admit, but although she gave him a thoughtful glance, she didn’t pursue it.

“But I’ve watched you with her,” he added, trying to direct the conversation back to less difficult matters.

The pretty pink filled her cheeks again before she turned away to peer out the window.

“I suppose I—we—will have to face the dining hall after all.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Sawyer told me that he’d arranged the private parlor so we could eat there.”

He managed to fight down his instinctive growl, afraid of disturbing Angel again.

“You should have told me that you were hungry. I will arrange for food to be brought to the room.”

“I don’t think they offer that,” she said doubtfully.

“They will, little mouse.”

He reluctantly handed Angel back to her, ordered her to bar the door, and went to the kitchens. He intercepted a serving woman on the way back from the hall with an empty tray. She blushed and stammered, then promised to bring a tray to the room. As she disappeared back into the kitchens, he walked outside to try his communicator again. Still no signal.

He wasn’t particularly surprised—outside of Port Cantor and a few areas along the coast, technology tended to be quite limited—but he needed to find a way to get a message back to Temel and Ida. Especially since his last message had assured them that he was bringing Dora and Angel back. In light of their conversations, he was sure that Temel would understand why that had changed, but he still needed to know about the change.

Temel also needed to know that Naffon would not be returning immediately to resume work on the farm. Although he would miss his comrades, he would not miss the inevitable drudgery of animal husbandry. This adventure with Dora and Angel suited him far better.

A hint of smoke tickled his sensitive nose, and he looked around to see the stable keeper perched on a stool outside the stables smoking a pipe. The sight reminded him of their earlier conversation. Of course. He could send a message back with the carriage. He strode over to join the old man who raised an enquiring brow, seemingly unperturbed by the sight of Naffon looming over him.

“Decide on that bed yet?”

“I won’t need it. I’ll be staying in the inn with my wife,” he said, taking great satisfaction in the announcement.

The other brow rose, but the keeper didn’t comment.

“Can you give the driver who is coming to take the mare and carriage a message to take with him?”

“Maybe.”

“Will this help?” He handed the man a ten credit chit, and he nodded.

“Aye. That’ll do.”

It ended up costing him another five credits for pen and paper, but he scribbled a note for Temel and handed it over, hoping his faith in the old man was not misplaced. After retrieving his saddlebags, he hastily returned to the inn, aware that he had been gone longer than he intended.

Dora’s face was pale when she unbarred the door for him.

“I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“I said I would accompany you. You can trust what I say.”

“That hasn’t been my experience with men,” she muttered, but she stood aside to let him in.

An untouched tray of food was waiting on the table by the window.

“Why have you not eaten?”

“I was waiting for you,” she sniffed.

“I’m very sorry, little mouse. I haven’t been able to get a signal on my communicator, but it occurred to me that I could send a message back with the horse and carriage to let Ida and Temel know that I am accompanying you. I hope that will help to relieve your mother’s fears.”

He caught the flash of guilt that crossed her face, but she nodded her thanks before she turned to the overloaded tray. In addition to half a roast chicken and several thick slices of meat, it contained a bowl of roasted vegetables, half a loaf of bread, a large hunk of cheese, and a dish of stewed fruit.

“Is there something here that pleases you?” he asked. “I didn’t know what to tell the serving woman.”

“You told her enough to make her think you were hungry.” She shot him an unreadable look. “She seemed very disappointed that you were not here when she brought the food.”

“Indeed? I am sorry to have disappointed her,” he said teasingly, and she glared at him.

“Maybe you should go eat with her.”

He laughed, unable to resist putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close. She didn’t resist, but neither did she melt against him as she had before.

“There’s only one person I wish to share my meals with,” he purred.

He didn’t attempt to kiss her, just bent down enough to nuzzle his face against her neck, breathing in her delicious scent. That was better. She softened against him and he was very tempted to take it a little further, but the food was waiting and she’d said she was hungry.

“Shall we eat?” he asked, stepping back.

She looked so startled that he almost laughed and kissed her anyway, but he turned her back towards the table instead.

“Choose whatever you want.”

“You don’t have any preference?”

“I can eat anything,” he said truthfully. Between the scant food of his youth and the even scarcer rations during the war, he’d learned to consume whatever was available in order to survive.

“If you’re sure…”

At his nod, she picked up a plate and began selecting items. Once it was full, she hesitated.

“Do you want the chair?”

“I’m fine sitting on the bed again.”

He filled his own plate, then sat on the bed next to Angel’s basket. She was asleep again, her lips puckering in her sleep as if she were still feeding. It was an oddly domestic meal, and an enjoyable one, even though they spoke very little. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he was hungry as well. He’d been too preoccupied to eat much during his search. They both had second helpings and the tray was nearly empty by the time they both finished.

She placed her empty plate on the tray with a contented sigh, then yawned.

“I suppose I should get some sleep. Zeke told us to be ready at daybreak.”

“Very well.”

He put his own plate on the tray before sitting back down on the bed and starting to remove his boots.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Taking my boots off. You don’t expect me to sleep with them on, do you, little mouse?”

He put them next to the bed and reached for the hem of his shirt. She squeaked when he pulled it up over his head.

“Naffon!”

“Yes?”

“You can’t think you’re going to sleep here!”

He grinned at her.

“Of course I am. After all, we are supposed to be married, and a husband and wife always share a bed.”

CHAPTER 5

Dora stared at Naffon, trying very hard not to be distracted by the broad expanse of soft golden skin covering his very impressive chest.

“But… but you can’t.”

A softer expression replaced the rakish grin.

“Don’t be afraid, little mouse. I would never harm you.”

She believed him, but…

“I’ve never shared a bed with anyone,” she blurted out, and he tilted his head, studying her.

“Not even—”

He gestured at Angel’s basket and she shook her head. Her stolen meetings with Malcolm had been hurried affairs. She’d been afraid of being discovered, and at the time she’d thought he was concerned on her behalf. Now she suspected he’d been equally reluctant to be caught with a girl half his age.

The small room made it easy for him to reach out and take her chilled hands in his big warm ones. His thumbs stroked across the back of her hands, the velvety feel of his skin oddly soothing.

“I could offer to sleep on the floor, but I doubt there’s room.” His voice was teasing again, but the softness lingered in his eyes. “I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

But what if she wanted him to do things she shouldn’t permit? She bit her lip, then nodded.

“All right,” she whispered.

Her hands were trembling and he raised them to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the back of each one.

“Don’t worry, little mouse. I’ll take care of you.”

He gave her hands an encouraging squeeze, then smiled when she managed to return it.

“Good girl. Do you want to use the sanitary facility first?”

When she shook her head mutely, he rose to his feet, that bare chest temptingly close. He brushed past her, leaving a brief impression of strength and warmth, and vanished into the tiny bathroom. It was something of a miracle that he could actually fit in there, she thought, fighting back a hysterical laugh. Her knees threatened to give out and she sank down on the bed where he’d been sitting.

She really hadn’t considered the ramifications of agreeing to let him pose as her husband. Tonight would be the first time they shared a bed, but it wouldn’t be the last. The wagon she’d purchased had a single—small—sleeping area with supplies occupying the rest of the space. Oh, Lord. Heat curled in her stomach at the thought of all those nights on the trail, their bodies pressed together in the tight space.

It’s not that I don’t trust him. I’m just not sure I trust myself.

She was still wrestling with that realization when he reappeared, his golden mane in damp curls around his face. He grinned at her.

“I believe that was a tighter fit than my shirt.”

She managed a smile as they traded places, grabbing her flannel nightgown out of her bag before hurrying into the bathroom. The small room was far from cold, but the thin cotton of her other nightgown was much too revealing. She lingered much longer than she needed to before she finally gathered her courage and returned to the bedroom.

The tray had been neatly covered and put to one side, and Angel’s basket was back on the table. He’d turned off all the lights except for the one next to the bed and it had been dimmed to a soft glow. His big body took up far too much of the bed as he pulled back the sheets and patted the mattress next to him.

“Come to bed, Dora.”

The smile he gave her would have had a nun stripping off her clothes, and she walked towards him as if she were walking to her doom. When she forced herself to lie down, he reached over her to turn off the light, then tucked her back against his body.

“Don’t worry, little mouse,” he whispered against her hair. “You’re safe with me.”

The reassurance didn’t help. She held herself stiff, afraid to move, until a rhythmic noise began against her back. He was… snoring? It wasn’t an annoying sound, just a low, pleasant rumble. The sound and the accompanying vibration were oddly soothing, and she finally began to relax, breathing in his comforting scent as she drifted off to sleep.

The sound of Angel whimpering jerked her awake, but Naffon had already gone to retrieve her as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

“Here’s your mama, sweetheart,” he murmured as he handed her the baby.

Still half-asleep, she had unbuttoned the top of her gown before she remembered the shawl. But the room was dark, the moons still on the wane outside the window, and she gave a mental shrug and continued. He made an odd sound, but she ignored it as Angel latched on with the always surprising intensity of a hungry baby.

The bed creaked and dipped as he settled down next to her.

“Sorry if we woke you,” she whispered.

“Not at all. I’m often up at this hour.”

“Really?”

She felt rather than saw his shrug.

“I do not sleep well.”

His tone forbade further questions and she let it go, finding herself leaning against his big, warm body as Angel nursed. The odd sound recurred as she switched Angel to the other side.

“Did you say something?”

“No.”

His voice had a low, grumbling quality that sent a surprising rush of heat through her body. She no longer felt quite so sleepy as Angel finished, her body humming with awareness at his closeness.

“Can you bring me the small bag, please? I need to change her diaper.”

He retrieved it immediately and she changed the diaper, the darkness no problem after the number of times she’d done it. But even though she was fed and changed, Angel showed no sign of falling asleep, kicking her arms and legs and gurgling merrily, and she sighed.

“I’m afraid that all of this traveling means that she’s gotten used to sleeping during the day and being awake at night.”

“How do you usually put her to sleep?”

“Usually she falls asleep after she’s fed. If she doesn’t, I walk her or rock her or just let her watch what’s happening around her.” She sighed again and started to climb out of bed.

“Let me.”

After a slight hesitation, she shrugged and handed him Angel. Although she couldn’t see him, she could hear him as he started walking the two paces back and forth across the room, murmuring something too quietly for her to make out.

“What are you saying to her?”

“The words to an old lullaby,” he said absently.

“Sing it for me,” she said without thinking.

She’d never heard him sing before, but his voice was low and surprisingly gentle.

“Go to sleep, little one.

The sky is dark and the moon is bright.

The stars are dancing and the wind is light.

All is safe, all is sound.

Close your eyes and drift away.

Drift away.”

It was a beautiful melody, and Angel was silent and still in his arms by the time he finished. He laid her carefully in her basket and then returned to the bed. He tugged her back against him, his hand on her stomach, his thumb teasingly close to the underside of her breast. Any hope of going back to sleep immediately vanished.

The rhythmic little rumbles began again, but this time they didn’t lull her to sleep. Instead, arousal hummed in her veins, a combination of both his physical presence and the way he’d cared for her daughter. Her breasts throbbed in a way that had nothing to do with nursing. Moving in the tiniest increments possible, she wiggled down, just a little, until his thumb pressed firmly against the lower part of her breast.

If she slid down a little more, would it rub against her aching nipple? She shifted a little lower—and the noises ceased.

She froze, her breath trapped in her lungs, waiting to see if he would remove his hand. Instead, he growled against her ear and cupped her breast through the fabric of her gown, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the hardened peak before he sighed and his hand stopped moving.

“I promised you I would not do anything you didn’t want. Is this what you want, little mouse?”

“I…”

She did want him to keep touching her, very much, but that was her body talking, not her brain. When she didn’t continue, he removed his hand. She almost protested the loss, but bit her lip as his arm circled her waist instead. He pulled her back against him and pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Go back to sleep,” he said gently.

Go back to sleep with her body aroused and aching? Her skin flushed and sensitive? She wanted to tell him that it was impossible—but so was the alternative. The rumbles began again, a soothing vibration against her back, and this time she did fall asleep.

The next time she woke, the faint light of predawn had started to creep into the room. Naffon was seated by the window, fully dressed and smiling at her. Angel was sitting in his lap, looking around with her wide-eyed gaze.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind, it’s time to leave.”

For a moment she was tempted to tell him that she had changed her mind, that she wanted to return to the farm and her family and to see if there was a chance of a future with him. But then she looked at her innocent daughter and shook her head as she climbed out of bed.

“Then we should go and join the caravan.”

CHAPTER 6

Naffon wasn’t surprised that Dora hadn’t changed her mind. He couldn’t even say he was disappointed. He liked the idea of venturing into the wilderness with his family—my fake family, he reminded himself. That didn’t stop him from giving Dora an appreciative glance as she grabbed her clothes and hurried into the sanitary facility.

His little mouse had a surprisingly lush figure beneath those loose dresses she liked to wear. He’d almost disgraced himself when she opened her gown to reveal those full, perfect breasts, the dark nipples a tantalizing contrast to her creamy skin.

I probably should have told her that my night vision is exceptionally good, he thought guiltily, but he couldn’t regret the delightful image now embedded in his mind. Or the even more delightful feel of the soft fullness of her breast beneath her hand. He knew she had welcomed his touch. He suspected he could have overcome her doubts quite easily—but he had promised. And even though he’d spent most of the night with a rock hard cock, there was a great deal of satisfaction in holding her as she slept.

Angel whimpered, the sound he already recognized as indicating that she was ready to be fed. Dora was still in the san so he uncovered the tray and dipped his finger into the stewed fruit. He touched it to Angel’s tongue and she pushed it in and out before sucking on his finger. When he removed his finger, she tried to follow it, so he laughed and offered her another tiny taste. She figured it out more quickly this time and was on her fifth little taste when Dora rushed out, fully dressed.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Giving her some breakfast.”

“But you can’t. She’s just a baby.”

Even as she spoke, Angel tried to grab hold of his finger again and he laughed.

“A baby who likes stewed fruit, apparently.”

“She can’t be growing up already,” she whispered, looking as if she were on the verge of tears.

“Only a little,” he said quickly. “She’s going to be a baby for a long time to come.”

It was the right thing to say. She gave him a somewhat watery smile and nodded.

“I’ll feed her as soon as the wagon is in place.”

He didn’t point out that the baby was probably not that hungry anymore. Instead, he placed Angel in her basket, picked up all the bags, and ushered Dora towards the door.

The inn was even busier this morning, people rushing around frantically as the sky lightened. Quite a few of them paused to gape at him, but fortunately everyone seemed too busy to stop for more than a few seconds. They joined the flow of people heading for the field where the wagons were located, but then Dora tugged him to one side.

“You should probably meet Zeke.”

She led him over to a middle-aged man standing calmly in the middle of the chaos. He had a hard, weathered face and the same air of quiet command that Temel possessed.

“Zeke, this is my h-husband Naffon. He was able to get away early and join us after all. Naffon, this is Zeke Hawkins.”

The penetrating gaze was also remarkably similar to Temel’s.

“You didn’t mention he was an alien.”

Zeke’s voice was absolutely neutral, and he fought to keep himself from growling.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me. Not as long as you work hard and obey my orders.” Zeke shrugged. “But I can’t speak for any of these other knuckleheads. I expect you not to provoke them.”

“I have no intention of doing so. But that goes both ways,” he added as he spotted Sawyer glaring at him from behind a fancy oversized wagon.

“Aye. I’ll spread the word. Anyone gives you trouble, you come to me, hear?”

Although it was phrased as a question, it was definitely an order. He nodded, resisting the impulse to salute, and Zeke flashed a brief approving smile.

“Good.”

“Where do you want our wagon? I need to retrieve my horse.”

“Position it behind the green one first. You’ve got plenty of time.” Zeke sighed. “It will take at least an hour to get most of them organized.”

He nodded again, then let Dora guide him back into the crowd. They were a motley assortment, ranging from large families to hard-faced loners, as well as a number of other couples and small families. Other than the fact that he wasn’t human, they didn’t stand out.

The wagons were equally mixed, varying not only in size but in type. The majority of them were horse-drawn, but he spotted a few beat-up flyers, a couple of aged hovercars, and several mechanized wagons powered by a variety of engines. He fought to keep the dismay off his face when Dora came to a proud halt beside one of the mechanized wagons. The wooden base was perched on top of six large all-terrain wheels. Reflective cloth over a lightweight metal frame enclosed the living area, while the Roscan rotary engine housed beneath the driver’s seat powered the vehicle.

“This is your—our—wagon?”

“Yes. Isn’t it nice? The driver’s seat has a canopy and drop down panels to protect you from the rain. The back is fully equipped—it has a s-sleeping area.” She darted a quick nervous look at him before she hurried on. “It also has a cooking unit and a chemical toilet, and you can even rig up a shower if you move things around.”

All of which were undoubtedly fueled by the notoriously unreliable engine. They’d had a similar transport unit on Vizal and it had been a constant battle to keep it running.

“Sawyer said it would be easier to manage than having to care for two horses as well as the baby,” she added. “Was he lying about that too?”

“He had a point,” he admitted reluctantly. “But these engines can be tricky.”

She looked so dismayed that he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

“Fortunately, you have an expert mechanic for a husband.”

“Really?”

She gave him such a warm, hopeful look that he almost kissed her, but there were things to be done. Such pleasure would have to wait.

“Let’s get it into position and then you can feed Angel while I get my horse.”

Fortunately for his claims of expertise, the engine started almost immediately, although it gave an occasional skip that worried him. Leaving it running, he helped her onto the driver’s seat, then stowed their bags in the back. It was a neat, compact layout with a bench along one side, the cooking unit and sink along the other, and a sleeping area across the back. Almost every surface was cluttered with the supplies she’d purchased, but he could see why the cozy interior had appealed to her. As long as he could keep the engine running, it should make the journey easier for her.

He maneuvered the wagon through the crowd to the place that Zeke had indicated. Then Dora disappeared into the back of the wagon with Angel and he hurried back to the stable. Lady and the carriage were already gone, but the stable keeper assured him that the driver had promised to deliver his message.

“Good. Is there a repair shop in the outpost? One that would sell parts for a Roscan rotary engine?”

The old man scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“There’s a shop here, but they don’t do much work on those. Too unreliable.”

“I know,” he said grimly.

“Tell you what. I got one of the ones that broke down out back.” He cackled a little too gleefully. “Didn’t even leave the outpost. If you wanted to see if there was anything useful on it, I wouldn’t stop ya.”

It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was better than nothing. He handed the stable keeper another handful of credits and the old man even offered to let him use his toolkit. Keeping a wary eye on the gradually assembling caravan, he stripped as many parts as he could from the engine. The old man showed up with a grain sack just as he decided there was nothing else he had time to remove.

“Nah,” the old man said when Naffon reached for his credits. “‘Spect you might need those credits for more parts by the time you get to the end of your trip.”

“As long as it makes it that far, I’ll be satisfied.”

The man cackled again as Naffon shoved everything in the sack and threw it over the back of his horse before hurrying back to the now almost complete caravan. Dora was back on the driver’s seat with Angel on her lap, and she gave him an exasperated look when he reached them.

“You have a very annoying habit of saying you’ll be back soon and then disappearing for hours.”

He’d been gone nowhere near that long, but there was enough worry behind the annoyance that he didn’t attempt to argue.

“Sorry, little mouse.” He tied his horse to the wagon, then climbed up next to her and gave her a quick apologetic kiss. “I was just gathering up some last minute supplies.”

“Like what? I thought I had everything.”

“Just some spare parts,” he said lightly as he cranked the engine. It stuttered twice, but it started and he breathed a silent prayer of relief. “Not a lot of shops along the way.”

When she laughed and Angel echoed her, gurgling happily, he was filled with something that felt a great deal like satisfaction. He would do whatever it took to make sure that his two females remained happy and content.

CHAPTER 7

Dora leaned forward eagerly as Zeke sounded a horn to announce their departure. Despite her lingering guilt over leaving Ida and Tommy behind, she felt free and hopeful for the first time in months. Naffon’s hand covered hers on the front panel, his fingers intertwined with hers, and she glanced over to see him smiling down at her.

“Here we go, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t exactly a smooth start. The wheels bounced as they made their way down the road and the engine sputtered and skipped, but they were moving and a sense of excitement bubbled through her veins. She could hear panicked shouts from behind them as the last few wagons hurried to join them, and Naffon laughed.

“There are always some people who don’t believe that schedules actually apply to them.”

“Even in the military?” she asked, and his smile vanished. “I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “I know that all of you served together before you came to Cresca, but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not you. It was a… difficult time. The only good thing to come out of it was the bond between our squad.”

“You mean the four of you on the ranch?” she asked tentatively. He tensed again, but he answered her.

“There are two others who survived. One of them is a wagon master like Zeke, although he manages trading caravans.”

He didn’t volunteer any information about the other, and she decided she’d pushed him enough about his warrior background.

“Where are you from originally?”

“A mining colony. Nothing special, nothing important.”

The answer was curt enough to make her realize that he didn’t want to talk about his past at all. Although his reluctance aroused her curiosity, she decided to wait for a better time to ask him about it. Instead, she smiled down at her daughter.

“I think Angel is enjoying this.”

Her daughter was staring around with a wide-eyed expression. He smiled down at her and brushed a gentle finger across Angel’s cheek.

“Perhaps that means she will stay awake during the day and sleep during the night.”

She laughed. “We can only hope.”

The three of them settled into a comfortable silence as the outpost disappeared behind them and the trees closed in around the trail. Although they were silent, the caravan was not - the hiccupping cough of their engine mingled with the clop of hooves, shouts from Zeke’s men, and a general buzz of excitement.

“So, little mouse,” he said finally. “Where are we going?”

He decided to accompany her without even knowing their destination? The knowledge warmed her heart, and she smiled up at him.

“Through the mountains. There are a number of small settlements on the other side of the mountains, scattered along the edge of the Northern Plains. I’m planning to settle in one of them.”

“Did you have a specific one in mind?”

“Maybe? I had a friend in Wainwright whose family moved to Pottsville three or four years ago because her father thought Wainwright was getting too crowded. I don’t even know if she’s still there, but I thought I would see what it’s like. The caravan stops for a couple of days at each settlement so I can see if one of them feels like a good place to raise Angel.”

“And then?” he asked softly.

“I have enough credits left to rent a small place. I purchased a sewing machine in Williamsburg, as well as a supply of fabric, and I plan to set up shop as a seamstress.”

Very much as Ida had done to support them after her father’s death. She didn’t expect to make a great deal of money, but combined with the remainder of her inheritance, it should be enough to support her and Angel.

“That means a town big enough to have a demand for it,” she added, and he gave her a thoughtful look.

“I originally assumed you would head for one of the larger towns, perhaps even Port Cantor.”

She shuddered at the thought.

“Too big, too noisy, and too expensive. I had a good childhood in Wainwright. I want Angel to have the same.”

He gave a noncommittal murmur and turned his attention back to the trail. Did he think she was being foolish? She’d started trying to come up with a plan as soon as she realized that she was pregnant and Malcolm abandoned her. It hadn’t been until she remembered her mother’s jewelry that she’d had enough credits to make the move, but she’d worked out all the details long before that.

It’s going to work out, she told herself.

The caravan continued to wind through the cool dampness of the forest for the rest of the morning. It didn’t move quickly, not much faster than a person could walk, but they made steady progress. Angel fell asleep, and she tucked her into her basket.

Neither of them talked much. At first she continued to obsess over her plan, but it gradually dawned on her that Naffon was unusually silent. He always seemed chatty and cheerful back at the farm, but he was far more serious now. Was he regretting his decision? The thought began to haunt her, and she finally couldn’t stand it any longer.

“You know you don’t have to come,” she burst out. “You can see I’m perfectly safe, and it would be an easy trip back to Williamsburg on your horse.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, little mouse?” he growled.

“No, I’m not.” As soon as she said it, she realized the truth of the words. She liked having him next to her, liked having someone to share the journey with. “You just seemed… preoccupied, and I thought maybe you were regretting your decision to accompany me.”

“I don’t regret it at all. I was just thinking about the past.”

“I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories.”

He shook his head, the sunlight catching on his golden mane.

“The memories are never far away.”

“If you want to talk about them, I’m willing to listen,” she said softly.

“I appreciate the offer, but think some things are better left in the past.”

Except they clearly weren’t in the past if he was still so troubled by them, but when he gave her his usual cheerful grin, she let it drop.

“Tell me more about these seamstress plans of yours. Why did you choose that?”

“Mama would say it’s because I love clothes—which is true, although you wouldn’t believe it to look at me now.”

She cast a regretful look down at her oversized dress. Although she’d never left the house once her stomach became obvious, she’d taken comfort in the baggy silhouettes. Then after Angel was born and her breasts had filled with milk, she continued to wear them to obscure their increased size. But now that she was in the open as Angel’s mother, perhaps she could tailor them to fit better.

“I see absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look,” he murmured.

The heat in his eyes echoed the sentiment, and although she blushed, she believed him.

“Anyway,” she hurried on. “I was always fascinated by clothes. There was this seamstress, Becky, who made clothes for my mother and she taught me the basics.”

“Not your mother?”

“Absolutely not. She was very fragile. In my memories she was always reclining on the chaise, dressed in these long, flowing gowns, with a tray of medicines next to her. But a year after she died, Papa married Ida—who never reclined anywhere. She continued the sewing lessons, even though I was pretty horrible to her.”

“You aren’t now.”

Wasn’t she? Leaving the middle of the night without saying goodbye wasn’t the nicest thing to do.

“I hope not, but it took me a long time to adjust to her presence—and to recognize that my papa wasn’t a particularly good husband.”

That admission still hurt. She’d been blinded by the fact that he doted on her—when he was around—and unwilling to admit that he left Ida to take care of everything else. It had taken his death and the shocking realization that he’d gone through not only his own money but Ida’s and left them penniless for her to face the truth. And the pain of that truth had left her vulnerable to Malcolm’s charms. The memory of their time together still made her cringe, although it was from embarrassment rather than pain now.

“But in spite of my stubbornness, we eventually got along very well. I know…” Her voice faltered. “I know she would have been a wonderful mother to Angel. I just hope I can do as well.”

His hand found hers, squeezing gently, and she sniffed back a tear.

“You will. You already are a wonderful mother,” he said firmly. “That was obvious even back on the farm.”

Although she was gratified by the compliment, it also confirmed her decision to leave. Someone would have figured out the truth sooner or later.

“We didn’t fool anyone, did we?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think anyone else watched you quite as closely as I did.”

He smiled down at her, and she was lost in that bright blue gaze until the wagon jolted and he swore and turned his attention back to the trail. She laughed, that same warmth filling her, then gave herself a mental shake. This is just temporary, remember? She couldn’t get used to Naffon’s presence.

They emerged from the forest just after noon and Zeke called a brief halt. He’d already warned them that they wouldn’t usually stop during the day, but he was easing them into the journey. She took advantage of the stop to feed Angel, while Naffon made sandwiches from the last of the bread and cheese from the previous night’s dinner. He handed her one, then frowned at the cluttered interior of the wagon.

“When we stop this evening, I’m going to try and rearrange everything to give us a little more space. Is the storage area completely full?”

“What storage area?”

“The one in the bed of the wagon, beneath the floor.”

She sighed and shook her head. Another thing Sawyer had neglected to mention when he helped her choose the wagon. Then again, she hadn’t thought to ask, enchanted by the tidy little interior. It wasn’t until after the supplies were delivered that she realized how little room was left. She’d resigned herself to having to shift things around a lot, but if he could make more room it would make life much easier.

“I didn’t know. Is there anything else I should know about the wagon?”

He flashed that charming smile at her. “If there is, we’ll figure it out together.”

Together. It sounded all too appealing, and despite the doubts still lingering in her mind, as she bent down over Angel, she allowed herself to hope that perhaps this time she hadn’t been wrong about a man.

CHAPTER 8

Naffon wedged the last box into the storage area in the bed of the wagon and nodded with satisfaction. Between that area and the additional storage built into the living area, he’d managed to stow away most of their supplies. He’d rigged up some hanging baskets over the cooking area to hold the more perishable provisions and they now had a clear path from the back entrance to the sleep area. The very small sleeping area.

Dora would have to be even closer to him than she’d been the previous night, and it would require even more self-control not to take advantage of the situation—unless she indicated that she was willing…

He looked over at her, bending over the fire he’d built and tending to her cooking pot as she talked to the woman from the neighboring caravan. They had camped for the night close to another wooded area, and he’d suggested that they take advantage of the easily available supply of wood and save the cooking unit for nights when they didn’t have that luxury.

Even though she clearly had no experience cooking over an open fire, she agreed readily enough, then watched attentively as he built the fire and set up the portable tripod to hold the pot.

“I think I could do that next time,” she’d said thoughtfully as she began slicing tubers.

“I’m sure you could.” But I’d rather do it for you.

He’d been sitting next to her with Angel on his lap, and he realized he was taking far too much pleasure in the domestic scene. He’d reluctantly put the baby back in her basket and turned his attention to the wagon.

Now that it was organized, he checked the level of the water tank beneath the bed platform—at least that was one thing that had been done properly—and returned to the fire. The woman she’d been talking to gave him a curious look. She was an older woman with a pleasant face, and she didn’t seem particularly bothered by the fact that he wasn’t human. Several of the people who’d wandered past their campsite had been less enthusiastic, but he’d ignored their muttered comments.

As long as no one upset Dora, they could say whatever they liked. He and his brother had been the targets of far more vicious discrimination when they were growing up. As always, the thought of Samar made his throat close, and it took him a moment to realize that the woman was speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I was just telling your wife that your daughter is adorable.” She cast another curious look from his face to Angel’s, but didn’t mention their obvious differences as she continued. “I can’t wait to see my grandchildren.”

“Is that why you’re on the caravan?” he asked politely.

She laughed. “I’m afraid so. My husband and I decided there was no point in having a big house in town while our daughter and grandchildren were so far away. So we sold up and are heading into the wilderness to join them. Elana says she’s happy we’re coming so I hope she means it.”

“I’m sure she does, Maude,” Dora said quickly. “Every woman likes having her mother close by.”

Her voice faltered as she finished, and she gave him a sudden stricken look. Apparently Maude noticed too because she reached over and patted Dora’s hand.

“You’re welcome to think of me as a temporary mother while we’re traveling, and if you don’t mind, I can practice being a grandmother.” She smiled at both of them and rose to her feet. “If you need anything at all, just let me know. Now I’d better go make sure that Harvey hasn’t let himself be roped into a game of cards with some of Zeke’s hands. He has totally unjustified faith in his ability to play.”

Maude rolled her eyes as she spoke, but her tone was clearly affectionate. She bid them goodnight and walked away down the line of wagons. He looked over to find Dora watching her departing figure, a wistful look on her face.

“Are you missing Ida?”

“Yes, and thinking about Angel not having a grandmother nearby. I really hope Mama can come and visit. You don’t think Temel will mind, do you?”

“No, but I am quite sure that the commander will accompany her.”

And perhaps I could come along as well. The prospect pleased him, but it didn’t entirely remove the dread of their eventual parting. Which is a long time away, he told himself firmly, and leaned forward to sniff the pot.

“That smells delicious.”

“Thank you. Mama taught me to cook as well, although I was usually the assistant instead of the chef.” She sighed again, then hurried on. “I used some of the fresh meat from the freezer unit tonight, but we’ll mainly be using dried food in the future.”

“Depending on where we stop each night, I could always hunt.”

“Are you a good hunter?” she teased.

“I had to be.” Even he could hear the bitterness in his voice, and her eyes widened. “Sometimes it was the only way we could eat.”

“During the war?” She winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up again.”

“It was true sometimes during the war, but what I actually meant was during our childhood.”

She didn’t ask the question so clearly written on her face, but he found himself telling her anyway.

“I told you we were raised on a mining planet. You worked in the mines or you didn’t get fed, and even then it wasn’t very much.” Their diet had consisted mainly of thin gruel and an occasional cube of rancid meat. “That’s why my brother and I learned to hunt.”

Even though it had been driven by necessity, he had good memories of those shared hunts. Their life had been poor and brutal, but it had been simple. The war on Vizal had changed all that. Those memories were far less pleasant, and he jumped to his feet and picked up a water container.

“I’m going to get some water from the stream. Might as well take advantage of fresh water while we have it. If you don’t mind waiting a little longer to eat?”

“Not at all. In fact I think I’ll feed Angel while you’re gone—before you start trying to feed her stew.”

“I bet she’d like it.”

Her laughter floated after him, but his smile vanished as he entered the shadowy dimness beneath the trees. He remembered crouching in the underbrush with Samar, praying that their snare would be successful, and exchanging triumphant yells when the crude bow and arrow they’d made hit its target. The way Samar’s smile would light up his thin, dirty face, so similar to his own. Even seven years later, he still felt as if part of him was missing.

He was so caught up in his memories that he didn’t watch his surroundings as carefully as he usually did, and he emerged next to the stream to find Sawyer lounging on a boulder, sharing a bottle with two other men. All three of them glared at him.

“Go away, animal,” Sawyer sneered. “This part of the stream is reserved for humans.”

He ignored him, bending down to fill up the container, even though his nerves prickled with awareness.

“What? You think you’re as good as us just because you convinced that little slut to marry you?”

He put the container carefully on the ground, then turned to face them.

“Never speak like that about my wife again.”

His voice came out as a threatening growl, and even Sawyer looked a little shaken, but the presence of the other two gave him courage.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

He took two steps closer, close enough that he could reach one of the boulders on which they were sitting, and unsheathed his claws.

“Whatever I have to.”

He raked his claws across the rock, leaving four deep grooves. All three of them paled.

“Holy shit,” one of Sawyer’s companions whispered before he slid down off the rock and started to back away.

Satisfied that he’d made his point, he picked up the container and turned back towards the wagons. Sawyer muttered another insult after him, but he ignored it. He didn’t care what they said about him.

Dora was just emerging from the wagon when he returned, a bright-eyed Angel on her shoulder.

“Someone isn’t sleepy tonight,” she sighed, and he shrugged.

“It’s still early. Maybe she’ll sleep longer later.”

They took turns holding her as they ate and darkness crept over the camp. Somewhere down the line of wagons a man started to sing. He didn’t understand the words, but it was a low, mournful tune that seemed appropriate for the dying of the light. Dora shivered and moved a little closer to him.

“That’s a sad song.”

“I know. But my guess is that the next one will be a drinking song.”

He was right. The next tune was a rollicking one and a larger fire appeared as people started to gather near the singer.

“Do you want to go and join them?” he asked, relieved when she shook her head.

“Not really, and Angel’s almost asleep so I don’t want to disturb her. But you can go if you want,” she added.

“Why would I want to do that? I have everything I want right here.”

She flashed him a quick, unreadable look as she rocked the baby.

“I suppose it’s because that’s what Papa did. He would disappear after dinner every night. I used to tell myself it was Ida’s fault, but he was doing it even when my first mama was alive.” She was looking into the fire rather than at him. “He spent all of his money, and then all of Ida’s, even what she inherited from her father. He wasn’t a… reliable man, but it was easy to ignore that when he was bringing me presents and telling me how pretty I was. I should have learned my lesson.”

She carefully placed a now sleeping Angel in her basket, and he put his arm around her.

“He may not have been reliable, but he clearly loved you.”

“Did he? He didn’t love me enough to make sure I was taken care of after he died.”

“I doubt that was intentional. Gamblers always assume that they will recoup their losses.” He put a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. Unshed tears sparkled in the firelight. “And he was certainly right about one thing. You are very, very pretty.”

He lowered his head, watching her face carefully for any hint of reluctance, and then he kissed her. She made a soft little sound against his mouth and then she was kissing him back, her mouth hot and sweet and urgent as she buried her hands in his mane.

CHAPTER 9

As always, Dora lost herself in the kiss. Kissing Malcolm had seemed exciting at the time but she’d come to suspect that it had been due as much to her lack of experience and the excitement of the forbidden as it had to do with him. It certainly hadn’t been anything like the urgent fiery need that swept over her when Naffon’s tongue stroked into her mouth, hot and rough and delicious.

His big body was warm and hard against hers, his hands stroking her back as he deepened the kiss. Her breasts began to ache and her nipples peaked beneath her dress, the friction of the stiff cotton only increasing her arousal. She pressed even closer, trying to relieve the ache, and almost sobbed with disappointment when he raised his head.

“We should go inside,” he said softly, his arms still gripping her possessively.

As if in agreement, another burst of laughter came from the bonfire. He was right—there were still a number of people up and around, and although it was quieter at their end of the caravan, they certainly weren’t alone.

“All right.” Her voice came out steadier than she’d expected given the way her body was trembling.

She started to reach for Angel’s basket, but he got there first, picking it up before helping her to her feet. He kept his arm around her waist as they climbed into the wagon. As soon as they were inside, he carefully put the basket down, then immediately drew her back into his arms. She went willingly, the delay only heightening her need.

His hand slid down her back, the pressure of his thumb between her buttocks urging her even closer, and his cock pressed against her belly.

Oh, dear God, the size of him. Her thighs tightened involuntarily as he growled and cupped her ass, abandoning the kiss to whisper against her ear.

“Don’t be afraid, little mouse. I will never do anything you don’t want.”

She believed him, she really did, but the problem was that she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Her body had no doubts, but lust was not a reliable guide. Her heart trusted him, but her mind was still wary. Perhaps he understood her dilemma because he didn’t kiss her again, just held her against him even though she could actually feel him throbbing against her stomach.

She wanted—so much—to slide her hand between them and explore that thick, tantalizing shaft, but she suspected that if things got that far, they would inevitably end up making love.

He tightened his arms around her in a brief hug, pressed a kiss next to her ear, and stepped back.

“I think that’s enough kisses for tonight. Why don’t you get ready for bed while I go and put out the fire? I should have done it earlier but you are far too tempting a distraction, sweetheart.”

She blushed, but she couldn’t help feeling pleased at the compliment. He disappeared back outside while she quickly prepared for bed. She hesitated for a long moment over her nightgown, but finally chose the flannel one again. Not that it provided any real barrier, but it was a reminder to take things slowly, she decided as she slipped into bed.

A reminder that made little difference when he returned and stripped off his boots and shirt as he had done the previous night. She hadn’t turned on any of the lights, but enough light filtered through the translucent overhead panels for her to see his muscles flexing as he bent down to check on Angel before coming to join her.

The bed was even smaller than the one in the inn, and after a few awkward attempts to get comfortable, he sighed and lifted her half on top of him. The position allowed him to stretch his legs and she had no objection, rubbing her cheek against the velvety texture of his skin and breathing in his delicious spicy scent.

“Comfortable, mouse?”

She assured him that she was and silence descended, but she couldn’t sleep. She felt restless and achy, her body still humming with arousal. The fourth time she tried to adjust her position, her knee brushed against his cock—his still very erect cock—and his hand clamped down on her ass.

“You are making it very difficult to behave with honor,” he growled.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I can’t sleep,” she concluded instead.

“I see. Perhaps this will help,” he murmured, and his hand slid down over her hip and then her thigh.

He very slowly raised the hem of her nightgown until he could slip a big warm hand beneath it, the texture of his skin against hers making her shiver.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m going to help you sleep. If you will permit me?”

There must be a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t think of a single one right then, not with that big hand curved so promisingly over her thigh.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he stroked his hand higher, up over her hips, and then down again to cup her mound.

She jolted, shocked by the flood of sensation, and he paused.

“More?”

“Please.”

Even in the dimness she caught the white flash of his fangs, and then he rolled her onto her back, looming over her as he trailed his hand across her stomach and back down. Her gown was tangled around her waist now and she was bare from the waist down.

“Such a pretty little mouse,” he purred.

“It’s too dark. You can’t see me. “

Her voice came out in a breathless gasp, and he chuckled.

“I see very well in the dark.”

She looked up at his face and caught the quick flash of blue just as the realization hit her.

“You could see me last night.”

“Yes.”

Oh, Lord. Despite her mortification, the knowledge that he’d been watching her was curiously exciting.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I could tell you that I wanted to spare you embarrassment, but the truth is that I was enjoying it far too much. You have beautiful breasts, sweetheart.”

Damn, he could probably see her blushing too.

“They’re not usually this big.” And they didn’t ache so much, or be so desperate for his touch.

“They would be beautiful no matter what.” He lowered his head enough to nuzzle at her neck and whisper in her ear again, his hot breath making her shudder. “Now would you like me to ease you, or do you think you can sleep?”

Sleep? With her body on fire?

“E-ease me. Please.”

“How can I refuse such a sweet little request?”

His voice purring against her ear sent another shiver of excitement through her body, especially when a big finger slid slowly between her thighs. He parted her folds, gliding lightly over her swollen clit before circling the entrance to her body. The pleasure was so intense that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

“So wet and open for me,” he purred.

He pushed gently against her entrance, then stroked deeper, exploring her, and she couldn’t stop the needy moan that escaped her lips. He hummed approvingly.

“You make the most delicious sounds.”

He pressed a kiss against her mouth and slid his finger deep inside her. It was too much, her body clamping down around the invading digit as her body tightened.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

He moved his hand, sliding his finger in and out of her slick flesh as he kissed her, and she could hear the wet sucking sound as her body squeezed tight around him. A second finger joined the first, stretching her deliciously, and then he circled the hard little nub of her clit with his thumb and she shattered.

She buried her face in his chest, her teeth sinking into his skin as the pleasure swept over her. His fingers continued to stroke her until the waves of sensation had ebbed, and then he gently withdrew. Her nightgown was still bunched around her waist, but she was too sleepy and relaxed to protest when he rolled over and lifted her back against his chest. His big hand curved possessively over her still bare ass.

“Now go to sleep, mouse.”

“What about you?” she mumbled sleepily.

His chest vibrated with his laugh.

“I’ll survive. Now sleep.”

She closed her eyes and obeyed.

CHAPTER 10

Despite his aching cock, Naffon smiled into the darkness. It seemed he was destined to spend this trip with a constant erection. But there was a great deal of pleasure in her soft little body curved so trustingly over his and the sweet scent of her arousal filling the air. He even welcomed the slight sting on his chest where she had bitten him, as if she were claiming him. The pressure of her blunt little teeth had almost brought on his own climax.

Angel woke during the night, and he went to get her, changing her diaper before bringing her back to Dora. She was sitting up in the bed and she hesitated, glancing in his direction even though he knew she couldn’t really see him in the dark.

“I suppose it’s a little late to be modest now,” she sighed as she opened the top of her gown and began to nurse Angel.

The delectable sight did nothing to quell his arousal, and after he returned Angel to her basket he was very tempted to sample her breasts himself. Given how responsive she was, he didn’t think she’d object, but he didn’t want to take any chances on damaging this fragile new relationship between them. They had weeks to explore each other.

And then what?

Could he really leave her, leave both of them, alone and unprotected? But not only did he have an obligation to Temel to help him to restore the farm, he had his own demons chasing him and they reappeared the next afternoon.

That day’s journey had been far less pleasant than the first day. They’d spent most of it crossing open prairie and the sun beat down on them the whole time, unusually warm for this time of year. Although the engine ran all day, it kept skipping and he’d spent the entire trip expecting it to break down. Angel was also unusually fretful, and he hated not being able to comfort her. Dora was even more distraught.

“I’m sure Mama would know what to do,” she said as she switched Angel to her other shoulder in a vain attempt to soothe her. “Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mother after all. Maybe I should have left Angel with her.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m sure Ida had to learn too. You’re doing just fine.”

Although he did his best to calm Dora’s fears, her unhappiness made him feel as if he were failing her. Just as he’d failed his brother. He knew it was an irrational comparison—Dora was in no danger of losing her life—but the thought continued to haunt him throughout the day.

Zeke didn’t let them stop at midday, determined to reach another wooded area with a stream before nightfall. They were both tired when the caravan finally came to a halt.

“Why don’t you go and see Maude?” he suggested as they climbed down. “She might have a suggestion on what’s bothering Angel.”

“Do you think so?”

Her worried expression lightened before she hurried away, but it still bothered him that he’d been unable to help her. He was rather disconsolately considering building a fire when Zeke stopped by.

“You busy?”

“Not really. Why?”

“One of my boys spotted a herd of wild cattle.” Zeke’s weathered face split in a wide grin. “Thought we could have ourselves a feast.”

A hunt sounded like exactly what he needed. He grinned back and went to get his horse. He glanced over at the next wagon, but Dora and Maude were huddled over the baby.

“Going for a quick ride,” he called, and she waved a hand in acknowledgment as he mounted.

It was not a quick ride, nor was it an easy hunt.

“They’re fast fuckers,” one of the hands grumbled as they gathered again for a rest.

The herd were descendants of the original hybrid cattle that humans had brought to Cresca, but they were not even remotely tame and spooked as soon as they approached. The rest of the men were scattered along the edge of the forest, hidden by the trees and the brush, waiting for the cattle to settle down again. A big bull stood guard to one side, his horns catching the light.

“It looks like they’re heading north,” he suggested. “We could try and head them off at the next stand of trees. Might be easier to take them by surprise if we got ahead of them.”

“Let’s do it,” Zeke agreed.

They split up, several of the men heading for the trees while he and a few of the others trotted out onto the prairie, not coming close enough to spook the herd into running, but close enough to keep them moving. The sun was setting by the time they approached the trees, but there was enough light for him to see the herd moving restlessly.

His horse snorted, his ears flicking back and forth as he urged it slowly forwards, and he crouched low over his withers as he raised the rifle. He no longer carried a weapon every day, but it was a familiar weight in his hands as he aimed at one of the young bulls…

Then one of the hands in the trees ahead lost his head, darting out of the trees with a whoop of excitement as he raised his own rifle. His shot missed by a wide margin and the herd bolted, running straight towards him.

Fuck! He wheeled his horse around, heading back the way they’d come. His heart pounded as the thunder of the stampede drew closer. He grinned fiercely as adrenaline flooded his system. Not a bad way to die, outside under the open sky.

Die? What was he thinking? If he dies, who would care for Dora and Angel?

The thought startled him enough that he jerked on the reins and the horse stumbled. His claws extended automatically as he started to fall, but he couldn’t dig them into his horse’s unprotected back. Instead, he threw himself to one side, hitting the ground hard and rolling to the side. He ended up halfway beneath a tree, and the hooves thundered past him, deafening him with the sound. His ears were still ringing when he heard Zeke calling him.

“Naffon!”

“I’m fine!” he yelled and sat up.

Zeke rode up to him, shaking his head as several of his men chased off after the stampeding cattle.

“Idiots.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he climbed to his feet.

“Why the hell are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t make the shot.”

“The herd spooked because of that other idiot. Not your fault.” Zeke gave him a long look. “Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have changed.”

The words struck a little too close to home. He knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent Samar’s death, but that didn’t stop him from blaming himself.

The men who’d been chasing the cattle came trotting back to them, one of them leading his horse.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Zeke muttered. “I didn’t think we’d see him again.”

His horse was unharmed but the herd was long gone, and it was a silent group that returned to the caravan. The man who’d started the stampede was barely more than a boy, and he withered under the glares from the other men. Naffon couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him, and he dropped back next to him.

“This is your first trip, isn’t it?”

The kid looked up at him, clearly surprised that Naffon was willing to talk to him, and nodded.

“My father worked for Zeke before, and he offered me a job. I thought I’d be doing more exciting things than driving a supply wagon.”

He looked so morose that Naffon tried to cheer him up.

“Supplies are important too.”

“I guess.”

Naffon didn’t press him. The poor bastard was going to be the target of enough anger from the rest of the men.

“What’s your name?”

“Riley.”

“Well, Riley, I have some experience with hunting.”

The kid brightened slightly.

“Really? Were you a hunter before you came to Cresca?”

“In a way. The main thing you have to learn is patience. To wait for the right moment.”

He knew how hard it was, especially when your belly was so empty that it felt like it was pressed against your spine. But when making the kill meant the difference between eating or starving, you learned to wait. He doubted Riley had ever been in such a situation, but he nodded dutifully.

Before the kid could ask any more questions, they arrived at the caravan and dismounted.

“That’s a good horse you got there,” Zeke said as they removed the saddles. “Got any interest in selling him? One of my hand’s mounts has come up lame.”

“He’s not really mine to sell, but I’d be happy to let your hand use him. Unless he’s the reason the horse went lame?”

“Nah. Chase is good with animals.”

“Then he’s welcome to ride him. He’d probably be happier being ridden than tied to the wagon every day.”

Zeke thanked him and led both horses away. All of Naffon’s muscles ached from the fall, but it was a good ache, and he started towards their wagon, eager to see Dora and Angel. Instead, she came storming up to him.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

The memory of that moment during the stampede made him hesitate just long enough for her face to pale.

“He was right, wasn’t he? You went off on a hunt, knowing how dangerous it was. You left us.”

He? He looked around and saw Sawyer huddled with the two men who had been with him at the river. The bastard gave him a triumphant look, and Naffon’s claws flexed. But as much as he itched to teach the man a lesson, reassuring Dora was more important.

“No, sweetheart, he wasn’t right. We were just trying to bring back a few steaks. You don’t think cattle are dangerous, do you?”

Her face relaxed a fraction.

“You mean like the ones on the farm? No, I guess not.”

“It was just supposed to be a quick hunt, but they kept getting spooked and moving further away. That’s why we were gone so long.”

“I don’t think you know the meaning of the word quick,” she muttered, but her lips curved a little.

Much better. He put his arm around her shoulders and she didn’t pull away as they headed for their wagon. Teaching Sawyer a lesson would have to wait.

“Where’s Angel?”

“She’s with Maude. Oh, Naffon, Maude thinks she’s cutting a tooth. She really is growing up too fast.”

Her lips quivered and he hugged her closer.

“It’s not something you can prevent, mouse. You just have to enjoy every stage.”

“I suppose,” she sighed, but she managed a shaky smile.

He returned it, but now he was the one who felt like he was running out of time. How many stages of Angel’s growth would he be around to see?

CHAPTER 11

Dora bounced Angel gently and watched Naffon talking to one of Zeke’s hands, a kid who didn’t even look old enough to have left home. The boy was talking excitedly, his hands waving in the air, while Naffon listened patiently. He looked more at home with the other men today. When Zeke had come by to invite them to join the gathering at the main campfire, he’d seemed pleased at the invitation.

“Guess he didn’t get his death wish after all,” a familiar voice sneered from behind her.

“You were wrong, Sawyer,” she said calmly, refusing to look around. “They were just out after cattle. Nothing dangerous in that, not for a skilled hunter like Naffon.”

“Is that what he told you? Guess he didn’t mention the stampede.” Sawyer laughed when she whipped her head around to look at him. “Can’t trust anyone these days, can you?”

“I certainly don’t trust you,” she snapped.

The laughter vanished, replaced by rage, but he wiped that away just as quickly and shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

She stared after him as he sauntered away, trying to ignore the unexpected feeling of betrayal. Had Naffon lied to her, like every other man in her life?

“Is something wrong, dear? Is Angel still being fussy?”

Maude smiled as she sat down next to her, cooing at the baby.

“No, she seems a lot happier. Rubbing her gums with the tea-soaked cloth really seems to help.” She hesitated. “Did you hear about the hunt this afternoon?”

“I did. Isn’t it exciting? A stampede and everything. Of course, it would have been even better if they’d brought back a nice side of beef, but at least they have a tale to tell.”

“So there really was a stampede?”

“Oh yes. Didn’t your husband mention it?”

“No.”

“Ah.” Maude shot a far too discerning look at her. “Some men can be a little… overprotective. They don’t want to upset us by talking about unpleasant things, thinking it’s better for us. They don’t realize we’d rather have the whole truth, or at least most women would. There are a few who are perfectly happy to be kept in the dark.”

“I think my mother was like that,” she said slowly. “She didn’t even want to hear that the store was out of her favorite chocolates, let alone anything more unpleasant.”

Was that why her father had started hiding his troubles? First with her mother and then with her and Ida? The possibility that it might have been an attempt to protect them, however misguided, instead of simply selfishness helped ease some of the anger that had lingered since his death. But that didn’t mean she was going to allow Naffon to get away with the same thing.

“Would you mind watching Angel for a little while? I just fed her and changed her diaper, but there’s another one in her bag, along with the cloth for her gums.”

“I’d be delighted, wouldn’t I, sweetheart?” Maude said, immediately reaching for the baby.

Angel gurgled happily as Maude nuzzled her tummy, then settled down in her lap to look around. Dora still felt guilty about leaving her as she went to join Naffon, still listening to the boy. He smiled when she approached and started to put his arm around her, but she slipped to one side.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Riley.”

The boy was giving her an awestruck look, and Naffon had to repeat himself before he responded.

“Sure thing. Night, Ms. Dora.”

“Good night.”

She turned and marched off towards their wagon. Naffon gave her a curious look as he joined her, but he didn’t say anything. Once they entered the wagon, he tried again to put his arm around her but she shrugged him away.

“A stampede?” she hissed. “You didn’t mention that when you were telling me how safe it was to go after a herd of cattle.”

He sighed and sat down on the bed. They’d left one of the lights on, and she could easily see the guilt on his face.

“I know, but you were so upset. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“So you lied to me?”

“I didn’t lie to you. Exactly.”

“Leaving out the truth is still lying. That was exactly what Papa did too. Do you know how tired I am of people lying to me? Papa, Malcolm, Sawyer. And now you.”

Her voice threatened to break on the last words and he started to reach for her, then sat back.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said quietly.

“That’s not the way to do it!” She took a few quick steps back and forth across the small space. “And because you didn’t tell me, I had to hear it from Sawyer.”

“He approached you again?” he growled.

“Only to taunt me about being right. And he was. It was dangerous!”

“It was dangerous,” he agreed, surprising her. “But it was also an accident. I didn’t deliberately put myself in danger.”

“Are you sure about that? I’ve heard Temel accuse you of being reckless.” She hesitated, then went and sat down next to him. “Please tell me the truth, no matter how much you want to protect me.”

“It’s not just about protecting you.” He took her hand but didn’t look at her. “My brother died on Vizal.”

“But you were in a war. That wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it? It was my idea to join the military.”

“Did you force him to agree?”

He gave her a startled look.

“No, of course not.”

“Then it’s still not your fault.” She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand. “My guess is that the military offered a way out for both of you. You haven’t said much about your childhood, but I don’t think it was happy.”

“It wasn’t. It was hard and brutal and dangerous. We were forced to work in the mines, and we never had enough to eat.”

Her heart ached for him, and she tightened her grip on his hand.

“Where were your parents?”

“I have no idea. We were brought up in an orphanage and sold into a work contract while we were still children. But in spite of everything, we had each other. After Vizal, I didn’t even have that. It never seemed right that I lived and he died.”

Horror mixed with her sorrow at the implication in his words.

“Are you trying to join him?” she whispered.

He hesitated much too long for her peace of mind before he shook his head.

“No, but it didn’t seem like my life had much value.”

“It does have value,” she said fiercely. “It has value to me, and value to Angel. And I bet it has value to Temel and Kalpar and the rest of your squad.”

“It has value to you?” he asked, ignoring the rest of her words.

“Of course it does.” A value she hadn’t truly realized until Sawyer smugly informed her that Naffon had gone off to risk his life.

“I thought of you, of both of you, when I was riding away from the stampede.” That burning blue gaze focused on her. “I wanted to come back to you.”

A half-sob escaped her lips, and then he was kissing her. Hard and hot and possessive, the kiss swept her away until all she could do was cling to him. When he finally raised his head, they were both panting.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said hoarsely.

“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise.”

This time she was the one who pulled him back into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his as he dragged her into his lap. Her breasts ached and she arched her back, seeking his touch. His big hand stroked up her side before cupping her breast, his thumb sweeping across her nipple until she shuddered.

And then he pulled back, his face tortured.

“We need to stop before I lose control.”

“What if I want you to lose control? What if I don’t want you to stop?”

His eyes were blazing now, his voice a rough growl.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

She knew she was taking a risk, but she didn’t care. Her body, her heart, and her mind were finally in agreement. Only one last question remained.

“Can you get me pregnant?” she whispered.

His eyes blazed even hotter, but he shook his head.

“No, I’m on a fertility restrictor.”

“Then I don’t want you to stop. Make love to me, Naffon.”

CHAPTER 12

Naffon’s entire body went taut at Dora’s request, his hand tightening reflexively on her waist.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Tell me you want me.”

Her voice was a little shaky, but she met his eyes without hesitation.

“I want you.”

His cock jerked at her response, and he rolled her onto her back, pinning her to the bed with his body, and nuzzled her neck. His fangs ached with the primitive urge to bite her, to mark his claim, but instead he returned to her mouth, kissing her until she was arching against him.

His hand slid down the front of her gown, unfastening each tiny button until he could push the fabric aside, and cup her bare breast. He stroked his thumb across her nipple and growled as a small white drop appeared. Unable to resist, he bent his head to catch it in his mouth. She tasted more delicious than he could have imagined, and he sucked eagerly as more drops appeared.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, her hands clutching his head

“You are mine,” he growled against her breast. “Mine.”

“Yes.”

He moved to her other breast as he released the rest of the buttons, licking and sucking until she was writhing beneath him, then raised his head to look at her. Beautiful. Her slender body gleamed in the soft light, the unexpected lushness of her breasts with their swollen red nipples tempting him to return. She was just as eager, tugging at his shoulders, but despite his aching cock, he refused to be rushed.

He curved his hand around her breast, then ran it down across her stomach to the gentle swell of her hip.

“So soft,” he murmured, his fingertips just brushing the curls between her thighs.

She whimpered and tried to arch against his hand, but he resisted, keeping his touch feather-light, a gentle tease.

“Naffon,” she begged.

“What do you want, little mouse?”

“Touch me. Touch me like you did before.”

He finally allowed his finger to slip between those damp, flushed folds and she groaned, rocking her hips against the touch.

“Like this?”

“More,” she demanded, and he smiled, tracing tiny circles around her clit.

He kept his touch light, but she was already so aroused that her body trembled and her breathing came in soft, desperate gasps. His cock throbbed in anticipation of being enveloped in that tight, wet heat, but he was determined that she should have her pleasure first.

He increased the pressure of his touch, stroking her until she was shuddering beneath him.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flew open and met his, dark with passion. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but instead of speaking, she reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers. Her kiss was as eager as her response to his touch, and he kissed her back, building her excitement until she cried out against his lips, her body bucking beneath him.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he gentled his strokes.

As soon as her tremors subsided, he sat back and freed his erection. She gave him a dazed, happy smile, but then her eyes widened as she looked down at his cock, her mouth forming a pretty little circle.

“Oh my God.”

“What is it?”

“You’re so big. And different.”

“I’m not human,” he reminded her, and she choked back a laugh.

“I think that’s pretty obvious.”

Her hand trembled as she extended a tentative finger towards him, stroking lightly over the small protrusions that lined his shaft. Even that delicate touch made him shudder, liquid pearling on the broad head of his cock, and he almost lost control.

“What are these for?”

“They will increase your pleasure,” he promised, stroking his hands down her soft thighs and pushing them gently apart.

She bit her lip, then nodded.

“All right.”

The trust on her face made his cock jerk again, and he kissed her before settling himself between her thighs and pressing the head of his cock to her small entrance. She was hot and tight and very, very wet, and her body finally yielded to the slow, steady pressure. Her eyes flew open as he entered her, her hands clutching his shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

“Y-yes.”

Her voice was strained, but her fingers relaxed their hold, and he slowly worked his way deeper. He was trembling by the time he entered her fully, trying desperately to keep his pace slow and methodical, to give her time to adjust.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against her ear.

She flushed, a beautiful, rosy pink that spread down her chest, and his hips jerked instinctively. She cried out, her body arching against his, and he growled again, fighting back the need to claim her.

“Are you all right?” he demanded, and she nodded.

“Just… just so full.”

“And you’re so small. Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered fiercely.

He smiled and pulled her legs up, resting her ankles on his shoulders, his hands cupping her ass and tilting her hips up towards him.

“That’s my girl.”

Her hands twisted in the sheets as he pulled out, her tight little channel gripping him so tightly it was almost painful. When he thrust back in, she moaned and her cunt fluttered wildly around him, urging him on.

“So fucking perfect,” he repeated as he pulled back again.

The pace was agonizingly slow, and she started panting, her blunt little nails digging into his shoulders as her hips rocked up to meet his.

“Faster,” she demanded. “More.”

“You can’t take any more.”

“Yes I can. Please, I need you.”

Her plea sent a rush of heat through him, and he gave in, his cock thrusting deep and hard into that perfect little cunt.

“Oh, God, yes!”

Her voice was high and desperate, and he knew she was close. He adjusted his grip so he could reach her clit with his thumb, stroking firmly across the swollen nub.

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

Her body went rigid, and then her cunt convulsed around him, milking him in tight little pulses. He only managed a few wild thrusts before his own climax swept over him, his hips jerking as he spilled his seed inside her, and her cries of pleasure echoing in his ears.

“My good girl,” he purred, stroking his hand over her damp hair as his body went limp and heavy with satisfaction.

“Naffon,” she whispered, her hand coming up to touch his face, and he smiled.

“Rest, little mouse.”

“But Angel…”

“I will go and get our daughter,” he promised, watching with satisfaction as she nodded, her face open and trusting before her eyes fluttered closed.

CHAPTER 13

Three days later, Dora hummed happily as she finished preparing breakfast. Angel babbled a response, watching her from the infant seat that Maude had loaned them. It was intended as a gift for her daughter, but she’d waved away Dora’s protests.

“Nonsense. Elana would be as happy as I am that it’s being put to good use. And I hope that someone would do the same for her if the circumstances were reversed.”

She had given in and accepted the loan, and Angel clearly enjoyed the more upright position. She was still teething, but the tea-soaked cloth had really helped and she was no longer as fretful. In fact, everything had been going well.

The caravan had made steady progress from the prairie to the gently rolling foothills to the base of the mountains that towered in front of them. They would start the first climb into the pass today, and the deep green of evergreens had started to mingle with the bright spring greens of the deciduous trees.

Outside the wagon someone called a greeting to Naffon and he responded easily. Ever since the hunt Zeke’s men had accepted him, and their acceptance had spread to the rest of the settlers. With the exception of Sawyer and his cronies, no one seemed to care anymore that he was not human.

Sawyer. Her mouth twisted at the thought of the odious man. He’d tried to corner her yesterday on her way down to the stream near their campsite. He’d had her trapped against a rock, telling her in foully obscene detail what he intended to do to her, when some more women came down the path. He’d muttered a curse and left, leaving her shocked and shaking.

She’d started to tell Naffon, but all Sawyer had done was talk. He hadn’t touched her but she didn’t think that would deter Naffon, and as much as she wanted to see Sawyer punished, she didn’t want his blood on Naffon’s hands. Instead, she went to Zeke.

He gave her a thoughtful look as she told him what had happened, wincing with embarrassment.

“Did you tell your husband? Reckon he would take care of it.”

“I know he could, but I didn’t tell him. I was afraid…” Her hand fluttered. “You said to come to you if there was a problem.”

“Aye, but this might be the exception. I know Sawyer’s type—he isn’t going to listen to me. I could kick him out of the caravan, but I think I’d rather have him where I can see him. My advice is not to go anywhere by yourself—and tell your husband.”

“And if he… hurts Sawyer?”

She was afraid to think it might go further.

Zeke shrugged. “Won’t bother me none. Far as I can tell, he deserves whatever he gets. If Naffon wants to talk about it, send him my way.”

She’d agreed, but she hadn’t yet found the courage to tell Naffon. She’d intended to last night, but he’d asked Maude to watch Angel for a couple of hours and prepared a surprise for her. He’d set up the shower unit in the wagon. It consisted of little more than rigging up a curtain over a hidden shower pan and running a hose from the sink to the makeshift shower, but it had been wonderful to step under a stream of hot water instead of making do with her usual sponge bath.

And then he’d joined her, looking even more devastating with water running down over his powerful body. He ran a soapy cloth over her, rinsed her carefully, then dropped to his knees and licked her with that wonderfully hot, rough tongue until she lost count of how many times she climaxed. Then he rose to his feet, picked her up, and dropped her down over his cock, impaling on that thick nubbed length in one fast, hard stroke. She’d come so hard she’d seen stars, and by the time he roared out his own climax, she was too limp and exhausted to do anything other than climb into bed.

This morning, she promised herself as she went to the door to tell him breakfast was ready, but he was scowling fiercely at the engine.

“How’s the engine holding up?” she asked, trying not to sound worried.

“Well enough.”

“Naffon…”

He looked up and gave her a rueful grin.

“If you really want the truth, not well. It’s burning through a belt a day and I only have a few left.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Did that mean they might be stranded out here? She almost wished she hadn’t asked him for the truth. She thought about the problem as he followed her inside for breakfast and suddenly had an idea.

“What about fabric?”

He looked up from feeding Angel tiny bites of his egg.

“What about it?”

“Could you use it to make more belts?”

He started to shake his head, then hesitated.

“Maybe. An elastic belt is easier to put on, but I might be able to tighten a cloth one. It probably wouldn’t last long, but neither do these. Do you have anything sturdy? Or something knitted would be even better.”

“I think there are a couple of things that might work. We could take a look tonight.”

He grinned at her.

“My smart little mouse.”

Time to tell him, she thought, and took a deep breath.

Then Zeke blew the departure horn, and Naffon swore and left. She made what was left of his breakfast into a sandwich, tidied up the dishes, and carried Angel and her seat outside. He was bent over the engine, still swearing. Most of the wagons had passed them before it finally started and one of Zeke’s hands rode back to check on them.

“Everything okay, Naffon?”

“It is now,” he said as the engine began its familiar uneven chugging. “Guess it just didn’t want to get going this morning.”

The hand laughed and rode off again. By the time Naffon had coaxed the engine into an even rhythm, they were the last wagon to set off.

“We aren’t going to get lost, are we?” she asked as the wagon ahead of them disappeared around a bend, and he laughed.

“Even if I were the worst tracker in the world—which I’m not—the trail is pretty obvious.”

He pointed to the churned up soil and beaten down vegetation ahead of them and she relaxed, feeling silly for worrying about it. The trail started to climb up through a narrow valley, running next to a river that rushed down out of the mountains. Sunlight sparkled on the water as it tumbled past, a pretty sight against the backdrop of dark green trees, but it still made her nervous. She and Angel, plus Ida and Tommy, had been trapped by a rising creek and this river was much wider and faster. At least this one was well below its banks.

“Do you think we’ll catch up with the others soon?” she asked.

“Probably not until this evening, I’m afraid. I don’t want to push the engine too hard. Do you mind being alone with me?”

Those bright blue eyes sparkled down at her, and she felt suddenly breathless.

“Not at all. This is actually kind of nice,” she admitted.

Without the noise of the surrounding wagons, she could hear the water rushing over the rocks and the occasional chirp of a bird. The sky was a brilliant blue overhead, as blue as Naffon’s eyes, and the breeze drifting past them carried the crisp freshness of the trees mingled with the earthy scent of the moss lining the river bank.

Naffon grinned and put his arm around her, tugging her closer.

“And there’s no one around to see me do this.”

She gasped as he tweaked her nipple, sending a corresponding rush of excitement straight to her clit, then returned his smile.

“Two can play at the at game, you know.”

She stroked her hand over his cock, delighting in the way it instantly responded to her touch, swelling beneath the fabric.

“This is a dangerous game - unless you really don’t care if we catch up with the caravan today,” he warned.

“Well…”

She gave him a gentle squeeze and he groaned, then firmly pulled her hand away.

“Let me concentrate, wife,” he said with mock sternness.

She laughed, but her chest suddenly ached. It was easy to play at being husband and wife - and easy to forget that it wasn’t real. What was going to happen when she found somewhere she wanted to settle? Or would any place appeal to her if he wasn’t with her? Even though they’d spent the last three nights wrapped in each other’s arms, they’d never discussed the future.

What if he’s just using me?

She rejected the question as soon as it popped into her mind. She didn’t believe that for one minute. But she still didn’t know what was going to happen once she reached her destination.

The wagon bumped and rattled over the increasingly rocky path, and the scenery became more impressive, if not more relaxing. The trees grew taller and denser, towering over them. The temperature dropped considerably as they continued to climb, and a shiver ran down her spine as she tucked a blanket over a sleeping Angel.

“Is it going to get much colder?”

“I don’t think so. From what Zeke said, once we make this first climb, the trail drops down again and runs through a valley. Are you cold?”

“Not now, but I’m afraid it will be tonight.”

“The cooking unit also functions as a heater. It should keep us warm enough, although I’ll make sure you’re nice and close so I can keep you warm.”

“I like that plan,” she said and snuggled closer.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about the fabric. Do you have any stockings?”

“A few pairs. Why?”

“They might be more effective than plain fabric.”

She smiled at him. “Then I will sacrifice them to the engine gods.”

“A sacrifice which might be required sooner than I expected.” He sighed as the engine choked and spluttered into silence.

CHAPTER 14

Naffon sighed again as he crouched in front of the engine. Another damn belt. This one hadn’t even lasted a whole day. As he began the tedious process of replacing it, he noticed a slight abrasion on the inner wall. Fuck. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? It was undoubtedly contributing to the rapid wear and tear on the belts. He’d seen a file in the limited toolkit, and he decided it would be better to take care of the problem now.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m afraid that this is going to take longer than I planned,” he said as he rose and stretched. “The good news is that I may have discovered one of the problems.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like we’re really in a hurry. And this is a pretty enough place to stop.”

He glanced around and decided she was right. The forest was thicker here, with a dense underbrush that threatened to encroach on one side of the trail. On the other side, a shallow rocky slope led down to the river, cluttered with branches and debris from the spring floods.

After climbing down from the wagon, she fetched a blanket and then sat on the grass near him as he crouched by the engine again, telling Angel some fanciful story about a prince in disguise. He was only half listening, simply enjoying the sound of her voice while he worked, when he caught a whiff of smoke. Why would there be smoke up here? Even if Zeke had decided to stop at midday, no one ever bothered to light a fire for the brief pause.

He raised his head and sniffed again. Not wood smoke. Something slightly more acrid, like accelerant. A shiver skated over his skin as he stood.

“Dora,” he said softly. “Take Angel and lock yourself inside the caravan.”

She gave him a startled look but picked up the baby and rose. It was too late. Three men strolled down the trail towards them—Sawyer and his two cronies, all three of them carrying torches. He instinctively stepped in front of Dora, his claws extending.

“Having a little engine problem?” Sawyer smirked. “What a shame. Why don’t we take the woman and child back to our wagon while you deal with it? For their protection, of course.”

“You won’t fucking touch her,” he snarled.

“You don’t have a choice. There are three of us and only one of you. So I suggest you step aside so we can… take care of your lady.”

The leer on the man’s face made him sick, and he could feel Dora trembling against his back. Sawyer gestured to his companions and they spread out, preparing to surround them. His body tensed, ready for action.

“Leave now,” he ordered. “No one needs to get hurt.”

“Oh, it’s going to get real fucking painful,” one of the men sneered. “Fucking animal, taking one of our women. We’ve been planning to teach you a lesson.”

“This isn’t going to end well for you,” he warned.

“You’re not even fucking human. No one is going to miss you, not even that pretty little piece of ass. If you just walk away, we’ll even let you live.”

“That’s never going to happen.”

The men exchanged glances and Sawyer nodded. Both men charged him simultaneously, but instead of retreating, he leaped towards them, his claws raking across the nearest man’s stomach. The man howled and doubled over, dropping his torch, and the flames raced eagerly across the dry ground, setting the underbrush alight. He ignored it, already focused on the next attacker. The excitement that usually flooded his body during a fight was absent. His only focus was to protect Dora and Angel.

The second man was larger and stronger, and managed to land the first blow. The strike would have knocked a human down, but it barely jolted him and he spun, lashing out with his foot. His foot connected with the man’s kneecap and he collapsed. Sawyer’s face contorted with rage at the sight of both his men on the ground, and he reached into his jacket, pulling out a weapon.

Fuck. Once again he leaped forward instead of retreating. The gun went off and he felt a sharp pain in his arm, but paid no attention as he reached Sawyer. He grabbed for the weapon, his claws digging into Sawyer’s hand. The other man cried out but refused to let go, trying to twist the gun towards him instead. Normally he wouldn’t have had an issue wresting the gun away from the other man, but the bullet must have done more damage than he’d realized because his arm was growing weak.

Sawyer’s finger tightened on the trigger as he managed to turn the gun towards Naffon, and he grinned.

“I win.”

Naffon made a last ditch effort to shove the gun away as a shot echoed through the clearing. Sawyer collapsed at his feet, sightless eyes staring up at the sky. His knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground next to the body.

“Naffon!” Dora screamed as she came racing towards him, a sobbing Angel in her arms.

“I’m fine,” he gasped. “Just a flesh wound.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at his shoulder. He followed her gaze and saw the blackened edges of the wound and the white of bone.

“Dammit, no, it’s not.”

Her voice shook as she crouched down next to him, trying to examine the wound and comfort Angel at the same time.

“It’s fine. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

She didn’t look convinced, but before she could say anything a loud crash shook the ground. He looked over her shoulder and saw a huge burning log blocking the trail below them. Fuck! The fire had spread rapidly and all of the woods around them were in flames. A thick cloud of smoke obscured the trail going uphill, and he couldn’t see any sign of the men who’d accompanied Sawyer. The fire was already closing in, small cinders beginning to fall around them.

“We have to get out of here,” he said urgently, and her terrified gaze met his.

“Where? Both sides of the road are blocked.”

“The river.” He managed to pull himself to his feet, tugging her with him. The wagon was already beginning to burn, but he grabbed Angel’s seat off the blanket as they passed.

“But the river…”

“It’s our only chance. Come on.”

He urged her ahead of him, and they scrambled down the shallow slope. She hesitated again at the edge of the river, shuddering as the water rushed past.

“This is as far as we need to go, right? The water will protect us.”

He shook his head. The fire was advancing with terrifying speed, already setting the driftwood that cluttered the slope alight.

“We’re going to have to get in the water.”

“But it’s so deep, and so fast.”

There was a shallow rocky ledge just under the water and he urged her on to it. The water only came up to their knees, but he could already feel the power in the current. Fuck.

“Strap Angel into her seat,” he ordered as he climbed back out of the water and grabbed the largest log he could reach.

Pulling it back to the river with only one working arm took far too long, but he managed to get it to the water’s edge. She had crouched down on the ledge, her body huddled over Angel trying to protect her from the increasing amount of embers in the air. The baby’s sobs had been replaced by pitiful whimpers.

“This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to hold on to the seat with one arm and the log with the other. The seat will float so you just need to keep it from drifting away. I’m going to hold on to both of you and to the log. As soon as the water carries us away from the fire, we’ll make our way to the shore.”

He did his best to sound confident, but it was a desperate plan at best, especially with the weakness in his arm and the speed of the current, but he didn’t see any other alternative. Even the trees on the other side of the river were beginning to burn as the wind carried the burning embers across the water.

He could see the terror in her eyes, but more smoke billowed past them and she coughed as she bent closer over Angel.

“All right,” she whispered.

“Brave little mouse.”

He slipped onto the ledge next to her, doing his best to hold the log steady against the current that was already trying to tear it away from him. She grabbed hold of it as well and lowered her body into the water, wedging the seat between her body and the log, her grip on it so tight that her knuckles turned white. He draped his bad arm over the log, ignoring the flare of agony from the wound, then put his other arm around her, also holding on to the seat.

“When I push away from the bank, the current is going to take us.” It was already trying to swirl them away. “It’s going to be fast and disorienting, but all you have to do is concentrate on holding on.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. Just hang on.”

Another branch fell, crashing to the ground next to them in a shower of sparks. They were out of time. He took a deep breath and pushed off. The water pulled them away with shocking speed, spinning and bouncing them around until he could barely tell which direction was up. All he could do was tighten his hold on Dora and hope.

The icy water splashed into their faces, but as he hoped, the log kept them above the surface. But the cold, the pain, and the smoke started to take their toll, and he could feel his hold on the log loosening.

“Don’t let go,” Dora begged, and his fingers tightened.

“Never.”

He forced himself to look around, to try and make sense of their surroundings despite the rapid flow of the river. He could see the burning forest receding behind them, the trees around them untouched by flames. He prayed they’d come far enough, but they had to get out of the river soon before their bodies shut down from the cold. Up ahead the river swept sharply to the right.

“As soon as we get around the bend, we’re going to head for the shore.”

His words were barely audible over the rush of the water, but she nodded. Even though her eyes were wide and terrified, her face was grim with determination. They rounded the curve and he spotted a stretch of gravel bank.

“Kick to the left!” he shouted, and she nodded again.

Together they managed to maneuver the log to the left, the current trying to resist them. They were close, so close. Then a small rock formation loomed in front of them. If they were too close, the log would sweep them against it, and he had no idea if either of them would survive the impact.

He kicked out with all his remaining strength and they swirled past the boulders and towards the bank. The current lessened in the lee of the rocks, and they managed to get close enough to the bank for him to feel the ground beneath his feet. He pushed towards the shore, still fighting the current, and once it was down to his waist, he wrapped his arm around Dora.

“As soon as I start pulling you to your feet, let go of the log.”

She gripped Angel’s seat and obeyed. The water tore at them and for a terrifying moment he thought the current would knock him off his feet, but he managed to hold his position and keep her upright as well as the log disappeared down the river. They fought their way to the bank and up out of the water.

As soon as they were clear, he dropped to his knees, his whole body shaking.

“Angel,” he gasped.

“She’s fine.”

Dora already had the baby in her arms, rocking her against her chest. He could hear Angel whimpering softly and he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. She’d made it through the terrifying journey. They all had.

“We did it,” Dora said, her teeth chattering.

“Yes.” His voice sounded slurred and sluggish as the cold caught up with him and the wound on his arm throbbed. “Get. Out. Wet clothes. Firestarter. Belt.”

He was sure there was more he needed to tell her, but the world was turning grey and fuzzy. The last thing he remembered was the ground rushing towards his face.

CHAPTER 15

Dora choked back a sob as Naffon collapsed. His chest still rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and crying wasn’t going to help him. Angel’s sobs had died away to a few tired hiccups and her eyes had closed, but she still looked wet and miserable. Naffon was right. They needed to get out of these cold wet clothes as soon as possible. She took a quick look around. The graveled stretch where they had landed narrowed into a rocky gorge behind her. There was very little vegetation, but the beach was covered with driftwood.

With the help of Naffon’s firestarter, she could probably build a fire, but where? An open fire wasn’t the best source of heat, especially once night fell and the temperature dropped. She cast a nervous look at the sky and decided she had several hours before that happened, but she needed to take advantage of the daylight while she had it.

A darker area at the back of the gorge caught her attention, and after a hesitant glance at Naffon she went to investigate. The dark area was due to shadows from the overhanging rocks, but she found the entrance to a cave just beyond it. A very small cave, barely tall enough for her to stand upright, but that meant it would be easier to heat.

She reluctantly put a now sleeping Angel back in her seat and started gathering wood, placing it just inside the entrance to the cave. A fire there would heat the space, but allow the smoke to escape outside.

Then she carefully pulled off Naffon’s belt and examined it. There were a series of small compartments sewn along the inside of the belt containing an odd assortment of items—a coiled length of fishing line, a couple of hooks, a small but very sharp knife, some strange little brown cubes, a small folded square of plastic that opened into a good-sized bag, and another folded square, this one silver.

She recognized the small silver square as a survival blanket and quickly unfolded it into a surprisingly large rectangle. After draping it over Naffon’s body and Angel’s seat, she set to work on the fire. Starting it took a lot longer than she’d hoped, and she was on the verge of tears when it finally took hold.

As soon as she was sure it was burning, she tucked Angel and her seat against the back wall of the cave, then returned for Naffon. There was no way she could haul him into the cave so she kneeled beside him and stroked his cheek. His eyes flew open, but she could tell that he wasn’t really seeing her.

“Can you get up, Naffon? I’ve found a cave in which we can take shelter.”

He shuddered and didn’t move.

“Stand up, Naffon,” she ordered, tugging on his hand.

He tried to respond to the command, and with her helping as much as she could, he finally made it to his feet, still staring at something she couldn’t see. She guided him over to the entrance to the cave, then quickly stripped off his wet clothes. He responded to her commands like a puppet, but at least he was moving.

Getting him inside was more difficult, and she winced each time he bumped his head. His body stiffened once they were inside, but she managed to get him to sit down next to Angel’s seat. As soon as he was seated, his eyes closed. She spread the survival blanket over both of them again, then went to gather more driftwood.

Once she thought she had enough to last the night, she returned to the cave, her legs shaking with exhaustion. The space was already considerably warmer due to the fire, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she entered. Her dress had dried a little as she worked, but it was still damp. She took it off and laid it over a rock next to Naffon’s clothes, leaving her chemise on as she went to check on him.

He was still asleep, but his breathing seemed steadier. The wound on his arm was red and angry, but it wasn’t bleeding. Although he stirred when she whispered his name, she decided not to try and wake him yet.

His velvety skin had dried and his body gave off its usual comforting warmth. Angel’s clothes were also half dry, but she removed them and snuggled her daughter between her and Naffon to keep her warm. Then she closed her eyes, her thoughts whirling.

Now what were they going to do? She had no idea where they were; they had no food and no equipment except for the contents of Naffon’s belt. They had no way of contacting anyone to ask for help. Naffon was still wearing his wrist comm but as far as she knew, he hadn’t been able to get a signal since they left Williamsburg.

It’s like we jumped from the fire into the frying pan, she thought wearily.

And those were just the immediate problems. Her carefully laid plans for a new life had gone up in smoke. While she still had a few coins sewn into the inner pocket of her dress, it wasn’t enough to start over. But Naffon and Angel were with her and safe. Maybe this is all the new life I really need, she thought.

A soft patter started outside the cave and she peered outside to see that it had begun to rain.

“Where were you when we needed you?” she muttered, but the soothing sound of the rain mingled with the crackle of the fire and she finally drifted off to sleep.

She jerked awake sometime later from a confused dream about rivers and logs playing chase to find that night had fallen. Fortunately, the fire was still burning although it was mainly down to embers. Both Naffon and Angel were still asleep. She transferred Angel to the now dry seat and carefully stoked the fire.

A noise behind her made her whirl around to see Naffon awake, his eyes wide and panicked.

“Cage,” he repeated over and over, glancing around wildly. “Cage.”

“No, it’s not a cage. We’re in a cave by the river.”

He didn’t seem to hear her, every muscle in his body rigid as he kept muttering.

“Cage. Cage.”

“This isn’t a cage, Naffon,” she said firmly, putting her hand on his face and turning his head towards her. “You’re safe. We’re together.”

He leaned into her touch and his eyes started to clear. A moment later recognition flashed across his face.

“Dora.”

“That’s right. I’m here.”

A great sigh of relief shuddered through him even as he looked around, shuddering again when he spotted Angel’s seat.

“Angel.”

“Yes, she’s here and she’s fine.”

Despite his obvious relief, the panic started to reappear when he looked up at the low ceiling of the cave.

“Cave,” he said so quietly she could barely hear him. “Not cage.”

“Cage?”

He shivered, and although she didn’t think it was because he was cold, she climbed into his lap and put her arms around his neck. His arms immediately closed around her in a panicked grip. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent while she stroked her fingers through his thick mane, still damp from the river.

“Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“N-no.”

His voice was muffled against her neck, but he didn’t seem certain. She kept up the long soothing strokes as she waited patiently for him to continue.

“I was a prisoner of war,” he said at last. “Back on Vizal. After the battle where Samar d-died, they captured me and threw me into a cage. It was small and dark and cold, and I thought I was going to die there.”

Her heart ached for him as he shivered again.

“You’re not there now. You’re here with me and Angel and you’re safe.”

“I don’t feel safe,” he whispered, and she tightened her grip.

“I know, but you are. And we are too because you got us away from the fire.”

He shuddered, but he finally raised his head to look at her.

“You’re not hurt?”

“Not at all. The only damage is a burn hole in one of my favorite dresses. My only dress now,” she added lightly.

She was trying to tease him, but it didn’t work. Guilt racked his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry for what? Saving our lives?”

“For not keeping you safe.”

“You did keep us safe. You protected us from Sawyer, and from the fire.”

This time she was the one who shivered, reliving the horror of his fight with the three men and then their desperate escape down the river.

Her words didn’t seem to reassure him, and she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against his mouth.

“We’re safe,” she repeated. “What will it take to convince you?”

His hands tightened on her waist, holding her firmly against his rapidly growing erection.

“You. I need you.”

“I need you too.” She darted a quick look at the still sleeping Angel. “But quietly.”

It didn’t matter that her body was sore and her muscles ached. They had almost lost each other; she wanted the reassurance that they had survived just as much as he did. She kissed him again.

The kiss began slow and sweet but quickly grew hungry and urgent. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she welcomed the invasion, stroking her tongue against his. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both panting. He picked her up and settled her back on his lap with her legs on either side of his hips, his erection trapped between them. She wiggled closer, pressing her swollen clit against the thick nubbed shaft, and he groaned softly.

“My sweet little mouse. Are you really here?”

“I am,” she whispered.

She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath her palms, and blue fire blazed in his eyes as he looked down at her.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

The order, the roughness in his voice, sent a delicious shiver down her spine, and she eagerly obeyed, pulling the chemise over her head. He groaned again and wrapped his arms around her, his mouth fastening over her nipple and sucking hard.

It felt like an electric wire straight to her clit and she arched into him, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. He drank eagerly, working her nipple until she was rocking desperately against his cock. He moved to her other breast, licking and sucking fiercely, and she muffled her cry against his neck as she came, her empty channel convulsing wildly.

He growled, a low, fierce rumble that vibrated against her sensitive breasts, then lifted her over him, the head of his cock teasing her opening.

“More,” she demanded.

He nipped at her neck and the head of his cock slid inside her. She tried to rock down, eager for more of the thick length, but his grip on her hips held her in place. His thumb slid over to stroke across her swollen nub and she bit back a cry. He repeated the caress, sending a shudder of pleasure through her.

“Please,” she begged, and he slowly thrust his hips upwards, filling her inch by delicious inch, the nubs covering his cock sending fiery streaks of pleasure through her body.

“So perfect. So fucking good,” he growled.

“Y-yes,” she agreed, unable to say anything else as he withdrew and thrust deep again.

Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through her, building in intensity, until her world shrank to the heat of his body, the strength of his arms, and the massive cock filling her so perfectly. His thumb circled her clit and the pleasure overwhelmed her, her body shattering in his arms. She was still shuddering when he dropped his head to her neck and bit down, his fangs piercing her skin and sending her into a second dizzying climax. She was only dimly aware of him coming with a muffled roar against her neck, of his body bucking against hers, and of his seed flooding her.

When she finally stopped shaking, he was licking her neck, the rough caress of his tongue over the bite mark oddly arousing.

“You bit me.”

He raised his head, his eyes flashing blue in the dim cave, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and regret.

“It is how an Ustani claims his mate,” he said slowly.

“Does that mean we’re married, Ustani style?”

She tried to keep her voice light, teasing, but it came out far too breathless.

“Yes,” he said at once, his hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as it had done the very first time they met. “I love you, Dora.”

“Oh, thank God.”

She burst into tears, trying to tell him she loved him between sobs, and then he was kissing her again and nothing else mattered. Nothing except a small plaintive cry that made them both pull back.

“You’d better take care of our daughter, sweetheart,” he murmured, lifting her off his once again fully erect cock.

She brushed a quick kiss against his mouth and went to pick up Angel, whose small lips were trembling pitifully.

“My poor baby,” she whispered, settling back down next to Naffon to let her nurse. Angel kept her eyes open at first, fixed on her face, but they gradually drifted closed. She smiled down at her daughter, then looked up to find Naffon watching them.

“Did you mean it?” he said quietly. “That you love me?”

“Of course I meant it. Didn’t you?”

He gave a low growl and put his arm around her, tucking them both against his side.

“Do you doubt it?”

Strangely enough, she didn’t.

“No.” Careful not to disturb Angel, she reached over and lightly touched the place on his chest where she’d bitten him their first time. “And remember, I claimed you first.”

His eyes heated, but all he did was lean down and nuzzle his face against her hair.

“Thank the gods.”

CHAPTER 16

Naffon breathed in Dora’s sweet scent, using it to convince himself that he was here with her and not back in the cage. His panic had eased but it hadn’t left him entirely, and he carefully avoided looking at the low roof of the cave.

His arm started to ache, no doubt aggravated by their lovemaking, but he couldn’t regret it. He looked down and saw a small trickle of blood. Fuck, it would need to be closed. While they were safe for now, they needed to make their way back to civilization as soon as possible. He healed quickly, but he couldn’t afford any weakness with his family depending on him.

“I think I’m going to have to put your sewing skills to the test, sweetheart.”

She’d been smiling down at Angel as she nursed, but she looked up with a puzzled frown.

“Did you rip your clothes?”

“No, I’m talking about my wound.”

Her face went pale.

“You want me to sew up your wound?”

“It’s just a few stitches,” he said reassuringly. “I’d do it myself, but it’s a hard place to reach and I don’t want to lose any more blood.”

“You’re bleeding? Oh, God, I forgot all about it. I should never have let you pick me up like that.”

“It was worth it. In fact I would do it again right now if you weren’t busy with the baby.”

She shook her head, but some of the color returned to her face.

“I guess I can do it if you can tell me what to do.”

“Brave little mouse.”

He started to stand up to retrieve his belt and the ceiling came towards him in a dizzying rush. The weight of the rock above them pushed down on him and he collapsed to his knees, his hands shaking as he tried to calm his breathing.

“Naffon, are you all right?”

Dora’s hand on his arm helped slow his racing pulse.

“The cave is… difficult for me.”

Her hand stroked soothingly across his arm.

“I understand. Just close your eyes while I get your clothes and your belt.”

He obeyed, concentrating on the sound of her movements and Angel’s quiet gurgles. When she returned, he pulled on his pants then found the small suture kit hidden in his belt.

“I can’t believe you have all those things hidden in there,” she murmured.

“It’s a basic survival kit, but it comes in useful in less desperate situations as well.” He handed her the water bag. “I know this looks flimsy, but once you fill it with water you can put it over the fire and it won’t burn.”

She looked at the darkness outside, then nodded.

“I’ll get some water.”

“I’ll go.”

“Don’t be silly. It will be much faster for me and I won’t bang my head on the ceiling. Sorry,” she added when he flinched. “I’ll be right back.”

She whisked herself out of the cave before he could stop her, but perhaps it was just as well. If he left, he wasn’t sure he would be able to force himself back in. The ceiling started to lower again, and he quickly focused on Angel. Now that she’d been fed, she seemed to be back to her usual contented self, sucking on her fingers as she looked around the cave.

Dora returned with the water bag, her chemise wet from the rain and clinging tantalizingly to her delicious body. She shivered, then smiled at him.

“Brrr. Let’s get this done before I freeze.”

“Why don’t you put your dress back on? Then put the water bag to one side of the fire.”

She quickly agreed, revealing an even more tantalizing glimpse of her body as she changed, then came to join him. He showed her the contents to the suture kit—a tiny vial of antibiotic, a sealed needle, and a small threader.

“This is an auto-stitch. All you need to do is hold the edges of the wound together, then hold it in place and push this button. It will do the rest.”

“How will I know when to stop?”

“Once you’ve closed the skin, raise the threader and the needle will retract on its own.”

She bit her lip as she took the small kit, but she didn’t hesitate.

“Now what?”

“Drip about half of the antiseptic into the wound, then just put your hand to one side.”

He did his best not to wince at the fiery burn of the antibiotic. It would have been better to clean it out first, but given their limited supplies he would just have to rely on the medicine. She carefully capped the vial, then placed the auto-stitch at one side of the injury, her fingers trembling as she pulled the raw edges together with her other hand. Fuck, that hurt but he did his best to keep his voice calm and reassuring.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Maybe not, but I hate the idea of doing it to you. Are you sure it’s necessary?”

“I am. It will only take a minute. Now press the button.”

Her hand tightened convulsively on his arm as the needle appeared.

“What’s it doing?”

“It’s getting ready to begin the suture. Just keep your hand there.”

He smiled at her, and then bit back a grunt as the needle moved into his arm and began sewing. He forced himself to breathe slowly into the pain.

“How can you be so calm?” she asked, horrified.

“It’s a medical tool, not a torture device. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Liar.”

Perhaps, but this was one situation where she didn’t need to know the whole truth.

“Look, it’s finished. Just raise the end and push the button again.”

She obeyed, shuddering as the needle retreated.

“That was awful. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her hand was still clutching his arm, so he pulled her into his lap, ignoring the protest from the wound.

“It wasn’t awful, and it wasn’t your fault.”

“If I hadn’t been foolish enough to spend time with Sawyer, he would never have targeted you.”

He suspected that Sawyer would have pursued her no matter what, but he shook his head.

“Yes, he would. He would simply have found another reason. I’m just glad we’re all safe now.”

“So am I.” She sighed and snuggled closer.

He would have happily stayed like that for the rest of the night, but she eventually straightened.

“I’d better put some more wood on the fire.”

He handed her one of the protein cubes.

“Here. Add this to the water. It will make a protein broth. Not a very tasty one,” he warned when her face brightened.

“It will be better than nothing.”

She grinned at him before moving to the fire and his chest ached as he watched her. There was so much strength and courage hidden in that slender frame. And she loved him. The warmth of that knowledge helped keep the threat of the lowering ceiling at bay.

Once the cube dissolved, they took turns sipping the broth in comfortable silence. At some point they would need to discuss their next steps, but right now it was enough to be warm and safe.

After they finished, she bent down to pick up Angel, then wrinkled her nose.

“Miracle diaper or not, this little one needs changing.”

“Cut one out of my shirt,” he offered, pulling out the tiny razor knife.

“Are you sure? Won’t you get cold?”

“I’m rarely cold,” he said truthfully, then gave her a teasing smile. “But you can always warm me up.”

She shook her head but returned his smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I try.”

She cut two squares of cloth from his shirt, using one to wash Angel before tying the other around her.

“A little primitive, but it will work.” She looked down at the soiled cloth and diaper and sighed. “I’d better wash these out. The diaper will dry very quickly.”

“I’ll do it,” he offered, but once again she refused and hurried out of the cave.

As soon as she left the weight started to return, but he concentrated on Angel until she came back.

“The rain has stopped, but it’s definitely getting colder.”

She placed the wet material near the fire then joined him, her hands like small blocks of ice.

“You should have let me go.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, yawning. “You deserve at least one day to recover.”

He tucked her closer against him. As tired as he was, he knew sleep would be elusive, but with her in his arms, he could endure the cave.

“What are we going to do now?” she asked sleepily.

“Figure out where we are, and then find a settlement of some kind to buy supplies.”

“And after that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Once we find civilization, where are we going?”

He tightened his arm around her. “You and Angel are my family. I’m willing to go wherever you want to go. But…”

“But what?”

“I want to return to the farm. We don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to,” he added quickly. “But I would prefer to tell Temel whatever we decide in person. And I think you should talk to Ida.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I was being a coward. But do you really mean it when you say you’ll go wherever I want? What if I decide we should go to Port Cantor?”

He laughed. “You told me pretty firmly that you did not want to go there, but if you’ve changed your mind, then that’s where we’ll go.”

Her fingers traced absently across his chest. He didn’t think she was trying to arouse him, but that didn’t prevent his shaft from starting to respond to the gentle touch.

“I don’t have many credits left.” Her voice trembled. “I haven’t even thought of another plan.”

“I have plenty of credits saved up. Certainly enough to get us started. If you want to be a seamstress, you can be a seamstress. Or anything else you want to be.”

“What are you going to do?”

He forced himself to shrug.

“I’ve never had a problem finding work.”

It was true enough, but it was also true that most of those jobs hadn’t lasted long. Then again, he’d never had a family to provide for before.

“I guess we don’t have to decide tonight,” she murmured.

“No, we don’t.” He put his hand over hers, stilling the tantalizing movements. “And since we both need to rest, it would be best if you stopped doing that.”

She raised her head to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“I want nothing more,” he growled. “But tonight we rest.”

“If you’re sure…”

Her other hand drifted over his cock and he groaned, but he caught that one as well and pulled her higher on his chest.

“Naughty little mouse. Sleep.”

She laughed and obeyed, leaving him staring into the fire and wondering what the future would hold.

CHAPTER 17

Dora clutched Naffon’s hand as he helped her up the last section of the cliff, then collapsed to the ground.

“I think I prefer the river,” she muttered.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Just a little shaky. I didn’t realize I was so scared of heights until now.”

He hugged her, gently rocking Angel’s seat with his other hand.

They had spent two more nights in the gorge. After examining the walls, he’d decided he needed to recover more of his strength before tackling them. Since the climb looked almost impossible to her, she didn’t argue. She expected the time to drag, but it had passed surprisingly quickly as they prepared for the journey.

He used the fishing line and hooks from his survival kit to go fishing and the river had proven very bountiful. He caught enough fish to grill a few for them to eat fresh while drying the rest in the smoke from the fire. He’d used the driftwood to create a tripod for the water bag and a drying rack for Angel’s diapers.

He also exercised diligently in an effort to regain his strength. She loved watching his muscles ripple beneath that velvety golden skin, but if he turned and found her watching him, a different kind of exercise inevitably followed. Fortunately, the weather had been clear and sunny and they’d been able to spend most of their time outside rather than in the cave.

The nights had been more difficult. They had slept in the cave each night, even though she knew he hated it. When she suggested sleeping in the open air instead, he refused, insisting that she and Angel would be more comfortable inside. Since the nights were still chilly, he was probably right, but his quiet suffering haunted her. At least her presence comforted him. He forgot all about the cave when they were making love—which meant she wasn’t getting a lot of sleep.

Not that it mattered, since there was plenty of time to take a nap in the sunshine with Angel. The baby seemed to have recovered completely from the wild trip down the river. She was still teething, but another piece of Naffon’s shirt soaked in the icy water of the river helped soothe her.

This morning he’d decided he was ready. She’d stood at the bottom of the gorge, her heart pounding, as he scaled the cliff, their few belongings tied to his back. He moved with incredible ease, his claws helping him find purchase and quickly reached the top. He deposited his pack and climbed down just as quickly. They’d decided the safest option for Angel was to tie the baby to his back in a makeshift harness made with strips of fabric cut from her dress.

The baby babbled happily as he started to climb, but Dora’s hands were clenched so tightly that her nails left indentations in her palms. He reached the top and put Angel in her seat, then tied the fabric into a rope before he returned. He tied one end around his waist and the other around hers and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, little mouse. I won’t let you fall.”

Her teeth were chattering too hard to speak, but she managed a nod. He stayed just below her the whole time, telling her where to put her hands and feet, and providing a temporary hold when her legs were too short to reach the next foothold. Twice she froze, unable to move, but he waited patiently, talking to her in a low, soothing voice until she could move again.

As her heart rate gradually slowed, she looked around. The view down below had been restricted to their immediate surroundings, but from here she could see the mountains rising up behind them, snow still crowning their peaks. She wondered where the caravan was hidden amongst those massive peaks.

“Do you think Zeke came back to look for us?” she asked.

“I don’t know if he could. We don’t know how far the fire spread or how long it burned. And if more trees fell across the trail, it would have taken too long to clear it.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“I can guess, but I don’t know how far the river carried us.” He pointed at the line of blue, below them, sparkling innocently in the sunlight before disappearing around a curve as the land began to rise. “The trail might have been on the other side of that peak in front of us, but I don’t know for sure.”

On the side opposite the mountains, the land dropped quickly down into the rolling foothills she remembered, but there was no sign of any town. Not even a homestead was visible.

“Then where do we go now?”

He leaned forward, extending a claw to draw a rough map in the dirt.

“Even if we don’t know exactly where we are, we know the mountains basically extend from east to west across the center of the continent. Wainwright is further to the east and Williamsburg is more central. We headed north and a little west when we left the outpost, so the trail might be somewhere around here. But because the river took us further west, we could be anywhere along here.”

He indicated an uncomfortably large section of land.

“What about Riverton? It’s to the west as well, isn’t it, and closer to the base of the mountains.”

“It is, but we don’t know if we’re closer to it or closer to Wainwright.”

“Should we toss a coin?” she asked, only half-joking.

“I think our best bet is actually to head straight south. There’s a trade route that runs between Riverton and Williamsburg so we’re bound to intercept it eventually. This is a busy season for traders so hopefully we’ll encounter someone who can give us a ride. Or at least tell us where we are. What do you think?”

“I think it’s an excellent plan.”

She tugged his head down and kissed him, teasing his tongue with hers until he growled and took over the kiss. She’d removed her dress for the climb and her chemise provided little barrier as his hand slid down to cup her breast, the warmth penetrating the thin cotton and making her arch into his touch. She had no intention of stopping him, but he raised his head and sighed.

“As delightful as this is, my naughty little mouse, we should get moving. We have very few supplies and I want to make sure we find a suitable place to camp for the night before it gets dark.”

“It’s barely after sunrise,” she protested, but she sat up anyway.

“It’s a long way past sunrise, sweetheart.”

He pulled her to her feet, gave her a much too quick kiss, then handed her what was left of her dress. But the time she’d pulled it on, he had his makeshift pack on his back and Angel’s seat cradled in one arm. The baby waved her arms happily.

“I could use the sling to carry her,” she suggested.

“We can try that later, but this is fine for now.”

She took his other hand and they set off. The first part of the journey was downhill through the forest but it wasn’t a difficult path. Although the trees obscured much of the sky, Naffon didn’t seem to have any doubts as to which way they were heading.

“Do you have a compass in that magic belt of yours?”

“I do, but I don’t really need it. I have an excellent sense of direction. Even when Samar and I—”

His voice died away, and she waited patiently for him to continue.

“I told you we used to hunt for extra food,” he said finally. “We’d go up into the hills surrounding the mines, but I always knew how to get back. Sometimes I pretended I didn’t so we could stay away a little longer. We knew we’d be punished if we were caught, but it was worth it.”

“Were you close to the same age?”

His mouth twisted in an odd smile. “I was four minutes older. We were twins.”

Twins? No wonder the loss of his brother had devastated him so much. It would be difficult to lose any sibling, but the person he’d been with since before he was born? Her heart ached for him and she squeezed his hand. He returned her grip, but he didn’t volunteer any additional information.

They reached the edge of the forest just after noon. While the rolling hills speckled with wildflowers that stretched out in front of them looked pretty, there was little shade and water might be difficult to find. They stopped long enough for her to feed Angel, have a few bites of fish, and a few sips from the water bag.

When they set out again, Naffon agreed to let her carry Angel and helped her fasten the sling around her chest, arranging Angel so she could see where they were going. His fingers kept accidentally brushing against her breasts, sending little streaks of arousal zinging through her body. She was about to suggest they extend their stop when she realized he was doing it on purpose.

“You’re teasing me.”

He laughed and kissed her.

“Just a little. You’re such a sensitive little mouse.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Do you remember what I said about how two can play that game?”

He laughed again and took a hasty step back.

“As much as I would like to play with you, we need to keep going. I want to find a good campsite.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll play.”

His deep growl sent a thrill of anticipation through her, and she followed him eagerly, hoping it wouldn’t take him long to find a place to camp.

CHAPTER 18

Instead of remaining at Dora’s side continuously, Naffon would veer off occasionally, loping easily up one of the low hills to look for signs of water. The sun had started its descent by the time he led her to a stand of trees on a low ridge. A small brook trickled down the ridge and beneath the trees.

“This looks like a good spot,” he said.

“It’s lovely,” she agreed, looking around.

The trees were much smaller than the ones in the mountains, but they were tall enough to offer a little shelter and the flowers had spread here as well, adding color to the grass.

“And look.”

He pointed out a few shrubs heavy with berries.

“Are those edible?” she asked hopefully.

“They are. We have the same kind growing up by the lake on the farm. I’ll collect some after I build a fire.”

“I can do that,” she insisted.

Using the remaining portion of his shirt as a basket, she wandered happily through the bushes. A good many of them went directly into her mouth, the tart sweetness a refreshing change from fish, but she made sure there were plenty for him before she made her way back.

He looked up and laughed as she joined him at the fire.

“Did any of the berries actually make it into your basket?”

“Of course they did. Why?”

“Because your lips are stained a very pretty shade of purple.” He drew her close and kissed her, sweeping his wonderfully rough tongue back and forth across her lips before delving into her mouth. “A very delicious shade of purple.”

“I brought you your own berries,” she said breathlessly.

“I think they’re much tastier this way.”

“Then maybe you should have some more.”

She popped one into her mouth and gave him a challenging look.

His eyes flashed blue fire and he swooped down to capture her lips again, mashing the berry against her tongue then licking up each drop of juice. Mmm. She’d started to tug impatiently on him when Angel let out a quiet whimper and they broke apart laughing.

“You have a very poor sense of timing,” she told her daughter as she lifted her out of her chair.

Angel gave her a wide toothless grin and lunged for her breast as soon as she unbuttoned the top of her dress. She shook her head and smiled up at Naffon.

“I think she’s hungry.”

“I don’t blame her.”

His eyes were fastened on her breasts with an equally hungry look, and she blushed but made no attempt to cover them.

She nibbled on some berries as she fed Angel and Naffon disappeared into the bushes. He returned a remarkably short time later with one of the small native Crescan animals, its fur gleaming a deep green in the fading light.

“That was fast.”

“I told you I was a good hunter.”

“I can see that. And it will make a nice change from fish. Not that the fish wasn’t delicious,” she added quickly, knowing how sensitive he was about his ability to care for them.

Fortunately, he only smiled back before going to skin his catch, then arrange it on a spit over the fire. The delicious scent of roasting meat filled the air as she rocked Angel while Naffon worked on the fur, cleaning it in preparation for curing later.

“I think there’s enough here for a hat and some booties for next winter,” he said with a satisfied smile as he put the fur aside. “Do you think she’ll like that?”

Tears suddenly threatened to rush to her eyes at his quiet certainty that they would be together then, but she did her best to keep her voice light.

“I think she’ll still be a little too young to voice an opinion, but I love the idea.”

He came to join her, curling Angel’s little tuft of brown curls around his finger.

“We’ll make sure she has everything she needs. I promise.”

He raised his head, and she could see the determination in his gaze.

“I know you will.”

They ate as the sun set. The meat was a little tough, but it tasted wonderful and she sighed happily as she nibbled the last morsel off the bone. She looked over at Angel, asleep in her seat, and saw a suspicious purple stain around her mouth.

“You fed her berries, didn’t you?”

“Just a little juice,” he said innocently.

“Incorrigible. I’m going to go down to the brook for a quick wash.”

“I’ll keep watch.”

He turned to look down at Angel, and she grabbed a few of the remaining berries. After she washed, she painted her lips with berry juice, and swiped it across her mating bite. She squeezed more juice around her nipples and even slipped a juice-covered finger between her legs, already swollen with anticipation. She returned to the fire wearing only her chemise and his eyes glowed with blue fire as she approached and dropped down next to him.

“I don’t think you were thorough enough.”

Her voice came out low and husky, and his gaze heated even more.

“No?”

“You said the berries tasted better on me, but you didn’t do a true comparison.”

She lifted her chemise over her head, the cool night air caressing her body as his eyes widened and his cock strained at the front of his pants.

“Do you want to try again?” she asked innocently.

He leaned forward, his tongue lapping at her mating mark and making her quiver with anticipation. He lingered there for a while, building her excitement, before kissing his way down to her breasts.

His mouth closed around her nipple, his rough tongue rasping over the sensitive tip as he licked off every drop of juice, and then he sucked gently. She arched into him, offering him the other breast, and he switched sides. As his mouth grew hungrier, she reached down and undid his pants, releasing his shaft. He groaned and raised his head.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“But I want a taste.”

“Not until after I’m finished with my test.”

He kissed his way across her stomach, then groaned again when he parted her legs and saw her berry-stained folds.

“I’m sure they will be most delicious here.”

His tongue swept the length of her slit in one long, wide stroke, swirling across her clit when he reached the top, and just that quickly she was coming, her body shuddering beneath him. He gently lapped at the sensitive flesh until she stopped quivering, then raised his head and smiled at her.

“Definitely my favorite. But of course, I have to be sure.”

“Sure?”

He lifted a hand dripping with berry juice.

“Very sure.”

He trickled the cool liquid across her heated flesh, and she shuddered as he followed the trail with his mouth. By the time he was finished with his test, she was limp with satisfaction and her body was almost completely purple.

“Tired, little mouse?” he asked softly.

She stretched lazily, enjoying the faint pleasant ache between her thighs.

“No, just resting my eyes.”

“Good,” he purred.

When she opened her eyes, he was painting his cock with the berry juice, his hand moving in long strokes, the purple contrasting sharply with his golden skin. Her sleepiness immediately vanished.

“Do you like what you see, my sweet little mouse?”

“Very much.”

He lowered his hand, the thick purple tip now visible.

“Then you should come here and taste.”

She scrambled eagerly towards him and leaned down to lick the juice. His salty, earthy essence combined with the tart taste of the berries was a delicious new combination. She swirled her tongue across the broad tip and down over the wide nubbed shaft, then returned to the tip and sucked lightly. He growled and his hands slid into her hair, pulling her closer.

“More.”

She swallowed him down eagerly, relaxing her throat and taking as much as she could. When he hit the back of her throat, she swallowed again and his growl turned into a groan. His hands tightened in her hair and he urged her to move faster, up and down, her tongue pressing against his thick shaft as he swelled inside her mouth. She cupped his balls with one hand, feeling them draw up close to his body.

“Now, sweetheart. Now.”

She swallowed him again, her throat working against the head of his cock, and he growled her name and flooded her mouth with his seed. His body went limp as she licked up every last trace, and then he pulled her up against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

“Sleep, Dora.”

She snuggled against him, and the sound of his heartbeat soothed her to sleep.

CHAPTER 19

Naffon woke before sunrise, Dora curled against his front and her head pillowed on his arm. Other than Angel waking them once to be fed, he’d slept deeply and dreamlessly all night long. Thank the gods the cave was far behind them.

Dora mumbled sleepily and he rolled her over on her back to kiss her, then started to laugh.

“What is it?”

She gave him a confused, sleepy stare as he tried to contain himself.

“I’m afraid you may be showing the evidence of last night’s play for a long time to come.”

She squinted down her body, then groaned.

“Great. I’m practically solid purple.”

It was only a slight exaggeration, although most of her skin was just a pale shade of lavender. But his favorite places—her neck and her breasts and her delicious cunt—were a dark vivid purple.

“It’s most becoming,” he said solemnly, admiring the slender lines of her body as she rose to her feet.

“I’m going to the brook to see if I can make myself less becoming.”

He was rocking Angel when she returned, but although she’d put her dress back on, the deep purple mark on her neck was clearly visible. And when she opened her gown to feed Angel, her nipples were still a luscious shade.

“I hope that hot water and soap will do a better job,” she sighed as she buttoned her dress again afterwards.

“Even if they don’t, it will eventually fade. And most of the marks will be hidden beneath your clothing.”

“Except for this one.”

A flare of possessive pride went through him as she pointed to the brightly colored mating mark.

“Then everyone will know that you are mine,” he said smugly, and her eyes narrowed.

“What if I want to do the same to you?”

“You already have.”

He opened his pants to show her his now dark purple cock, which immediately started to fill under her scrutiny.

“You’d better not be showing that to anyone else,” she snapped.

“Of course not. But I would be happy to bear your mark anywhere you wished.”

“Really?”

Keeping an eye on his face, she picked up one of the last few berries and raised it to his chest. Not only did he not object, he leaned towards her.

She slowly rubbed the berry over the place where she’d bitten him. The mark had long since vanished but she appeared to remember it as well as he did, tracing the exact spot.

“There.” She gave him a sweet, provocative smile. “And you have no shirt to hide it.”

“I don’t wish to hide it,” he assured her. “In fact I’m tempted to bring along a supply of berries to ensure that it remains visible.”

She laughed and shook her head.

“It would be nice to bring some along—but for eating not displaying.”

“Why not both?”

He wrapped as many of the berries as he could in the remnants of his shirt, refilled the water bag, and they set out again. He remained at her side throughout the morning since there was no need to hunt for a campsite that early. They stopped for a break at noon by another pleasant little brook, and he was almost tempted to remain. But this was not the life he wanted for his girls, and while it was pleasant enough under sunny skies, they would be miserable if the weather changed. They set off again.

By the time afternoon shadows slanted low across the ground, he was starting to regret his decision. He hadn’t found any place remotely suitable, and he was beginning to think they would have to make do with a small stand of scrubby bushes. Dora gave him a doubtful look when he paused there, but didn’t complain.

“I’m not sure if I can find anything else before it gets dark. It’s much drier now that we’re further away from the mountains.” Which he should have anticipated. “I’ll take a look from that hill up ahead, but unless I see something else, we’ll have to spend the night here.”

“All right.” She smiled up at him. “As long as we’re together, it will feel like home.”

His chest ached, but he kissed her and went off to climb the hill. Unfortunately, the land stretched out emptily in front of him, growing increasingly flatter. That meant they’d reached the prairie, where water and shelter would be even scarcer. He tried his wrist comm again but still didn’t receive a signal.

He began to reconsider his plan to continue south until they reached the trading route. It might be better to remain closer to the foothills with their greater resources. In which case, he needed to decide if they should go east or west. The land to his right looked vast and featureless as it stretched towards the setting sun, but when he looked to his left it didn’t appear much different.

Deciding to discuss the matter with Dora, he turned to climb back down the hill and caught a flicker of light to the left. He stared in that direction, trying to penetrate the rapidly increasing darkness, and saw it again, then another. Fires—he was sure of it. And if there were fires, there had to be people. An encampment of some kind, or perhaps even a caravan.

He hurried back down the hill just as Dora finished nursing Angel.

“Did you find anything else?”

“I’m sure I spotted a camp back towards the east. It’s a good distance away, but do you think you could keep going tonight? If they’re travelers, they’re likely to leave early in the morning.”

“Of course.” She stood up and handed him the sling. “Help me put this on, please.”

“I can carry her.”

“I’m happy to carry her. And you need to be free to move,” she added, stopping his instinctive protest.

She was right. Although he had no reason to expect the worst, he couldn’t guarantee that whoever was camped to the east would welcome them.

“All right,” he agreed reluctantly.

They arranged the sling so Angel was cradled across Dora’s chest and she was already half-asleep before they set off. They made their way around the hill he’d climbed, then headed to the east. The fires weren’t visible from ground level, but she didn’t question him. Dusk turned to night and they had to slow a little but the ground was relatively flat, and a short time later the first of the twin moons appeared, helping to light their path.

They’d walked for about an hour when the fires became visible in the distance. Although she hadn’t complained, he could tell she was getting tired.

“Do you want me to carry you, sweetheart?”

“I can walk. And it’s not much farther now.”

He suspected that the camp was farther away than it looked, but he didn’t argue. Her steps had really begun to lag by the time they were close enough to see shadowy figures moving in front of the fires and catch the distant sound of voices.

“Why don’t you sit down and rest? I want to scout ahead and see what type of party is camped up there.”

She nodded and collapsed down on the grass with a sigh of relief. He didn’t see or scent anyone nearby, but he handed her the tiny razor knife.

“Just in case,” he whispered when her eyes widened. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Okay. Don’t do anything foolish.”

“Me? Never.”

She flashed him a tired smile and he slipped off towards the camp. He spared a regretful thought for his shirt—the dark color would have helped keep him concealed—but the moons were still low and he knew how to keep to the shadows.

It took him longer than he’d expected to investigate the camp. There didn’t appear to be any guards, but there were quite a few people milling around and he didn’t want to risk being seen. He circled it carefully, and decided it was a trading caravan, a relatively prosperous one.

He slipped a little closer to study the travelers. Mainly human, as he’d expected, but he also saw a couple of Gida and a single Nalani. If they were accepted, there was no reason why he wouldn’t be. It was about the best scenario he could have hoped for and he hurried back to tell Dora.

She was gone.

At first he thought he hadn’t gone far enough. Then he decided he must have gone too far and began retracing his steps.

“Dora,” he called quietly, but there was no answer and his heart started to pound.

Maybe she’d just fallen asleep. She was so small he could have missed her if she’d curled up on the ground. He carefully retraced his steps, using his other senses as well, until he came to the place where her scent was thickest. He could even see the slight indentation in the grass where she’d sat.

Where the fuck was she? He tried to think, but his rapidly increasing sense of panic made it difficult. He didn’t believe that she’d left on her own, which meant that someone had to have taken her, and the only logical place was the camp. He snarled, his claws extending, and turned back.

This time he didn’t bother to conceal himself. He followed her scent straight into the camp and right to the heart of it, then stood there, hands extended, claws visible, and roared her name.

“DORA!”

CHAPTER 20

Dora did her best not to panic as the largest alien she’d ever seen turned to look at her. Naffon was big, but this male was a mountain, green skin covering the type of muscles she’d only seen in pictures—all of which were on display since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her heart skittered against her chest as he studied her with unreadable golden eyes. His black hair was drawn back from a stern face in a long thick braid.

“What are you doing here?” he asked finally, his eyes flicking down to Angel.

He had a deep, almost velvety voice, a surprising contrast to that hard face.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she said bitterly, glaring at the human male next to her.

The tall man dressed in spotless black had discovered her not long after Naffon left and insisted that she accompany him back to the camp. He’d been exquisitely polite, but he’d made it quite clear he wasn’t leaving without her. She’d thought about pulling out the tiny knife, but she just couldn’t see herself using it and in the end she’d gone with him.

The camp looked ordinary enough, not that dissimilar to the settlement caravan except the wagons were more uniform and better tended. They’d also been drawn into a circle, not something Zeke ever bothered to do.

Several people gave her curious looks, but no one seemed inclined to stop the man escorting her. He led her to a large tent set a little way back from the main circle and ushered her inside. Despite the size of the tent, it was only minimally furnished—a large chair, an enormous bed, and a big desk with an even bigger alien male working at it.

“Lord S’kal.”

“Tomlin, I’ve told you a thousand times that I am not a lord.” The deep voice had sounded tired as he spun around. A flash of surprise had flickered across his face before it settled into the unreadable mask he’d worn ever since. “What do we have here?”

“A stray female. Lurking outside the camp.”

“I’m not a stray and I wasn’t lurking. I was sitting there minding my own business.”

S’kal studied her for a moment, then gave an almost imperceptible nod of dismissal.

“Leave us, Tomlin.”

Oh, crap. She hadn’t wanted to accompany Tomlin, but she didn’t want him to leave her now. Before she could protest, he bowed and slipped away, leaving her alone with S’kal. She felt rather like the mouse Naffon called her, confronted by a much, much larger predator.

“I meant what are you doing out here on the prairie,” he clarified.

“Waiting for a… friend,” she said, then wondered if she should have kept Naffon’s presence a secret.

“A close friend?”

There was the faintest hint of irony in his voice as his gaze went to her neck and the large purple stain surrounding the mating bite.

Where are you, Naffon? But even if he hadn’t found her yet, she knew he’d come for her, and she lifted her chin.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Voluntarily?”

“Of course voluntarily,” she snapped. “Do I look like I need rescuing?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

He echoed her words back to her, the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes as he studied her ragged clothing, and she blushed.

“Well, I don’t.”

Before he could respond, she heard Naffon roaring her name.

“Ah. All becomes clear.” S’kal definitely looked amused now. “You’d better go to him before he tears the place down.”

She didn’t wait for him to say it again, rushing back outside to see Naffon in the middle of the circle, growling at anyone who tried to approach him.

“Naffon!”

She cradled Angel more tightly against her chest and raced towards him, but she’d only made it a few steps before he reached her. He started to yank her into his arms, remembered the baby, and pulled her against his side instead.

“Thank the gods. I thought I’d lost you. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she said, and he growled again.

“Who the fuck forced you to come here?”

“No one forced her,” S’kal said from behind her. “Tomlin merely wished to ensure that she was safe.”

Naffon whipped around, taking her with him, and she swayed dizzily.

“S’kal? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Working, of course. I would suggest that you stop flinging your mate around and accompany me to my tent.”

S’kal headed back to his tent without waiting to see if Naffon was going to follow him. Rather to her surprise he did, after a quick apologetic hug.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. I assume you two know each other?” she added dryly, and he laughed.

“Very well. He was part of our squad, but he’s always preferred going his own way.”

They entered the tent just as Tomlin placed a tray of food on top of a table that had miraculously appeared in the short time she’d been gone, along with two more chairs.

“Have a seat.”

It was just barely short of an order and Naffon scowled at S’kal before he led her to a chair. It was so large that her feet didn’t reach the ground, and he laughed, then picked her up and sat down again with her on his lap. She blushed as she snuck a look at S’kal, but he still looked vaguely amused.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your mate, Naffon? We didn’t get that far before you came roaring into camp.”

“S’kal, this is Dora. Dora, this is S’kal. He’s possibly the most annoying person I know. Outside of Kalpar, of course.”

S’kal suddenly grinned, the smile transforming his expression.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t. I thought you were headed back to Port Cantor?”

“I was, but one of the other wagon masters had an emergency so I agreed to take the caravan to Riverton. We’re on our way back to Williamsburg, then I’ll head back to the city.”

There was an almost regretful note in S’kal’s voice, and Naffon shook his head.

“You don’t have to, you know. You could come back to the farm. There’s a lot of room.”

“You know better than anyone why I have to go back,” S’kal said quietly.

“I suppose so.”

Before she could demand an explanation, her stomach growled loud enough for both males to look at her. She blushed, but Naffon immediately apologized.

“Sorry, little mouse. I should have been feeding you instead of talking.”

“I can feed myself, you know.”

“Not if you can’t reach the table, mouse.”

He grinned at her outraged expression, but when she opened her mouth to protest, he popped a small meat pastry into it. A delicate buttery crust surrounded a deliciously seasoned filling, and she groaned with pleasure.

“That’s amazing.”

“Tomlin is an excellent cook,” S’kal agreed, but she was more interested in what Naffon would hand her next.

By the time she waved him away, her stomach was a happy little ball of contentment and she could barely keep her eyes open.

Tomlin quietly entered the room again and bent down to murmur in S’kal’s ear.

“A bath has been provided for you,” S’kal said, his gaze flashing briefly to her neck. “We can discuss alternatives tomorrow, but for tonight I’ve had a tent erected next to mine. I assume that is acceptable.”

It didn’t really sound like a question, but she nodded enthusiastically.

“That sounds perfect. Sleeping in caves and under trees gets old pretty quickly. Although you did everything you could to make me comfortable,” she added quickly when a shadow crossed Naffon’s face.

“Caves?” S’kal asked. From the way he looked at Naffon, she suspected he was aware of her mate’s fears.

“It’s a long story,” Naffon said, then sighed. “But perhaps we should talk. Do you mind, sweetheart? I won’t be long.”

“Not at all. That is…”

Tomlin was waiting patiently by the door, and she gave him an uncertain look.

“I give you my word as a warrior that no one in this camp will bother you,” S’kal said in his deep voice, and Naffon nodded.

“All right. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry if I caused you any distress, Lady Dora,” Tomlin said as she followed him out of the tent.

“No, you’re not.”

His expression was even more inscrutable than S’kal’s, but she thought she caught a flicker of surprise at her response before he bowed his head.

“As my lady says.”

The fact that he was willing to admit it made her a little less hostile, and she studied him as they walked the short distance to the tent that had miraculously appeared next to S’kal’s. Tomlin might be annoying but he was clearly extremely efficient. He looked human, but was he really? His composure seemed a little too perfect.

The inside of the tent was much more richly decorated than S’kal’s. A thick, colorful carpet covered the floor, and equally colorful blankets covered a big bed heaped with pillows. A small table and chairs stood to one side, with another covered tray on top. He’d even found a cradle, which had been placed next to a big metal bathtub filled with steaming water, flower petals floating on the top.

“This is amazing. Thank you.”

He bowed.

“Lord S’kal wanted you to be comfortable.”

“And you will do anything S’kal wants?”

Another flicker of expression, one she couldn’t read this time.

“Almost anything.” Before she could respond, he pointed to a bell on the table. “If you need anything, ring the bell. I will remain outside and make sure you remain undisturbed.”

“Thank you.” A thought occurred to her and she gave him a suspicious look. “But you’ll let Naffon come in, right?”

That flicker was definitely amusement.

“If my lady wishes.”

“Yes, my lady wishes. Now go away. No, wait a minute. What happened to our belongings?” They had been sitting next to her on the grass.

“They are in the trunk next to the bed. If you wish anything cleaned, please let me know.”

How could he express his distaste so completely without the slightest change in his voice?

“I’ll be sure and do that,” she said dryly. “Now shoo.”

He bowed his head and left, dignity intact.

She shook her head, then carefully unwrapped the sling from around Angel. The baby was still sleeping.

“After this trip, you’ll be able to sleep through anything, won’t you, sweetheart?”

After putting Angel in the cradle she started to strip off her clothes, then hesitated, looking at the tent flap. It wasn’t the same as an actual door with a lock. Then again Tomlin was outside and he’d said she wouldn’t be disturbed. She found she believed him.

She finished getting undressed, then sighed with pleasure as she climbed into the tub and sank down into the hot water. Perfect. She let the heat seep into her bones, then reluctantly reached for one of the soaps on a tray next to the tub. Angel wasn’t going to sleep forever and she wanted to make sure she had time to wash every inch of her body.

She ran the sweet-smelling soap across her stomach, and to her delight the berry stains vanished. She scrubbed them all away until she came to her neck. She thought about the possessive heat in Naffon’s eyes when he’d seen it, and decided not to wash off that stain.

She’d just finished washing her hair when Angel started to stir. She climbed quickly out of the tub, wrapped herself in one of the big towels that Tomlin had left, and went to pick up the baby. After Angel ate, she was still wide-eyed and alert.

The baby watched, babbling happily, as Dora towel-dried her hair, then discovered that the ever-efficient Tomlin had left both a dress and a nightgown for her. He had guessed her size with annoying accuracy. Even though her body was exhausted, she was too restless to sleep—and she was beginning to wonder what had happened to Naffon.

Instead of putting Angel back in the cradle, she took her into the bed, singing to her and playing with her until the tent flap finally opened and Naffon appeared. His golden mane was disheveled, his eyes a little too bright, but it didn’t matter. He was back and their family was complete once more.

CHAPTER 21

Naffon watched Dora and Angel leave, fighting the urge to go after them, then looked over to see S’kal watching him.

“It appears you have found a mate,” S’kal said calmly.

“Yes.” He couldn’t prevent the smile spreading across his face. “You know I never expected to find one, none of us did. But first Borgaz, then Temel…”

S’kal raised an eyebrow. “Temel as well?”

“He’s mated to Dora’s stepmother.”

“How cozy,” S’kal said dryly, then shook his head. “Ignore that. I am very happy for the commander. And for you.”

There was the faintest hint of a question in his last words, and Naffon found himself scowling at the older warrior.

“You don’t sound like you’re happy for me.”

“You misunderstand. I was simply wondering if you could allow yourself to be happy.”

That hit a little too close to home, but he shrugged it away.

“Of course I can. Don’t be ridiculous.”

S’kal just looked at him, and Naffon shoved back his chair.

“Is there anything to drink around here?”

“Since I assume you aren’t referring to tea, there’s a bottle of Alaran rum in the bottom drawer of my desk.”

He retrieved it, along with two glasses, and poured them both a healthy swig.

“When Samar died, I felt as if part of me died as well,” he said finally. “And you know I blamed myself.”

S’kal regarded him thoughtfully over the top of his glass.

“And none of us agreed.”

“I was the one who convinced him to join the military. We wouldn’t even have been on Vizal if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Perhaps. And if you’d remained on Kazmek, he might have been killed in an explosion or a cave-in or any of the other mining accidents that have occurred over the years. You told me often enough how brutal your life was back there. And in case you’ve forgotten, I—we—were the ones who suggested joining the Alliance forces. Do you blame me too?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

An Alliance transport ship had stopped on Kazmek to pick up a load of ore. He’d run into S’kal and his brother H’zim in town just as one of the local gangs decided to jump them. The attack had been stupid as well as pointless—the brothers were clearly capable of handling themselves—but Elanda has never been known for his intelligence. He was a big male who relied on his size and strength to keep others under his thumb.

Naffon had been walking past when he saw Elanda and a half-dozen of his thugs attack. Seeing that S’kal and H’zim were outnumbered, he’d jumped in. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that his assistance wasn’t necessary, but he’d enjoyed the fight anyway. They had invited him for a drink afterwards and talked about the advantages of a military career. Or rather S’kal had. H’zim had never been a big talker, even back then.

Naffon had gone straight home and started trying to persuade Samar that they should join the Alliance forces. Even when the alcohol wore off the next morning, he was still convinced it was their best chance of escaping Kazmek, and eventually Samar agreed. When the transport ship left, they left with it. Six months after that, they were sent to Vizal. And by the time the war ended three years later, he’d lost not only his brother but part of himself.

He took another gulp of the fiery liquor, then set down the glass and met S’kal’s gaze.

“I should have been able to save him. I wasn’t injured, after all. I was just…”

“In shock,” S’kal said firmly. “And it wouldn’t have made any difference if you’d been able to reach him. He was killed instantly. It’s a miracle that you survived.”

The explosion that had killed Samar had only tossed him to the ground fifty feet away. He hadn’t been able to move, hadn’t been able to make it back to Samar before the life drained out of his body.

He gave a half shrug, acknowledging but not accepting S’kal’s words.

“But now that you have a mate, you can no longer keep trying to follow your brother,” S’kal added.

“I wasn’t trying to do that.”

S’kal raised a skeptical eyebrow. “No?”

“No.” It wasn’t so much that he wanted to die, but that he didn’t care if he did.

I care now.

He would never leave Dora and Angel alone and unprotected. He’d first realized that during the stampede, but the fight with Sawyer had confirmed it.

“I won’t abandon my mate and my child,” he said quietly.

“In that case, I am happy for you.”

S’kal raised his glass again and Naffon joined him, then gave him a curious look.

“And you? Can you allow yourself to be happy?”

“I’m happy enough.”

“Do you really enjoy dealing with all the annoying issues a wagon master has to handle?”

He spent enough time with Zeke to know that dealing with a constant string of complaints and problems and petty squabbles was part of the job.

A faint smile twisted S’kal’s lips.

“Tomlin is quite good at filtering them out. And since I couldn’t stand to live in Port Cantor all the time, this is an acceptable alternative.”

“But you always go back. To see him.”

S’kal sighed, staring down into his glass as if it held the secrets of the universe.

“I see him. I tell him what I’ve been doing. I ask him how he is. He doesn’t answer me.”

“Then why do you keep going?”

“Because even though he doesn’t speak to me, he never refuses my visits. He always comes to the visitation booth. I choose to believe that some part of him is glad that I come.”

He believed it. S’kal and H’zim weren’t twins, but they were very close—or rather they had been close.

S’kal drained his glass and firmly changed the subject.

“You slept in a cave?”

He winced. S’kal had been there when they’d pulled him out of the cage. He’d been there in the hospital when the nightmares caught him.

“I don’t think it’s correct to say that I slept, but I did spend the night there. It was the only shelter I could provide for Dora and Angel. And having them there—it helped. I could keep the nightmares at bay.”

“I can understand that,” S’kal said slowly. “But why did you need to take shelter in a cave to begin with?”

By the time he’d finished telling S’kal about their trip, the rum was half gone and the camp had fallen silent.

“I want to go to my mate,” he announced as he rose, stumbling slightly over a rug that tried to trip him. “To see if the berry juice is still there.”

“I won’t even ask,” S’kal said, rising to his feet with commendable ease.

“If you ever get a mate, remember berry painting. It’s delishh… deliss… tasty,” he finished triumphantly.

“I do not expect to have a mate.”

“Neither did I, but here I am.”

S’kal accompanied him to the entrance of the tent, then pointed him towards the tent next door. Tomlin was sitting outside it, reading a small datapad.

“Your mate is in that tent.”

He scowled, reminded of his earlier grievance.

“Tomlin shouldn’t have forced her to come into the camp.”

“Perhaps not. But he would not leave a female and child unprotected.”

“I shupposh,” he slurred, and S’kal laughed.

“Go to bed, Naffon.”

He obeyed, still unable to prevent himself from scowling at Tomlin—an expression that had no discernible effect on the other male.

The inside of the tent was warm and colorful, the air scented with flowers, and best of all his mate and his daughter both looked up and smiled when they saw him. The vibrant purple stain still covered her mating bite—she hadn’t even tried to wash it away. His heart filled to overflowing, and as he went to join them, he could have sworn he felt his brother’s hand clasp his shoulder.

CHAPTER 22

Dora traced the buttons on her new dress from top to bottom, and then back up again. Then she fiddled with the top button until Naffon put his hand over hers.

“Stop it, mouse.”

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“You know we are.”

She sighed, but he was right. She was just being a coward. They had traveled with S’kal’s caravan back to Williamsburg. He was taking it from there back to Port Cantor and he’d told them they were welcome to come along. Even if she didn’t want to live in the city, they would pass through a number of smaller settlements along the way where they could choose to live. Surprisingly the idea no longer appealed to her.

She’d wanted a new life so she could truly be Angel’s mother, but she no longer had any doubts about her role. Or about their ability to make her daughter feel safe and loved no matter what. Naffon had told her that it was her decision, but she also remembered what he’d said about talking to Temel directly.

When they’d finally reached a point where his comm had a signal, it immediately started pinging wildly. He looked at her and she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Tell them we’re coming home.”

She purposely didn’t mention if they would stay there, and he didn’t press her.

Since S’kal was heading south and they were heading east, he helped them find a suitable wagon before he left—one with a much more reliable engine. They’d left a message at the outpost for Zeke so that when he returned he would know they’d survived. They’d also left a brand new baby seat that they’d asked him to deliver to Maude on his next trip to the plains, along with a note thanking her for everything she’d done.

“I have another trip to Wainwright coming up. I’ll see you in the summer,” S’kal said when they went to tell him goodbye.

“Are you bringing Tomlin along?” she asked innocently, and S’kal sighed.

“Why?”

“I was just thinking he would enjoy learning how to muck out a stable. Since he enjoys cleaning so much.”

She shot a teasing glance at Tomlin and caught that brief flash of amusement. During their time with the caravan she’d quickly learned to appreciate his loyalty—and his remarkable ability to find almost anything she needed, including a case of the miracle diapers—but it had become something of a game to see if she could make him smile.

“I believe that was almost a smile,” she said triumphantly.

S’kal shook his head.

“Tomlin may need more time to recover from this trip first.”

“On the contrary. It has been most… entertaining. Goodbye, Lady Dora. Lord Naffon.” Tomlin paused next to the baby carrier he’d also located for her. “Miss Angel.”

Then he disappeared, leaving them all staring after him.

“I believe you might have won him over,” S’kal said thoughtfully,

“That’s because no one can resist you, can they, sweetheart?” Naffon asked cheerfully—which was also unusual. He tended to get growly and possessive when other men were around, but he’d never had an issue with Tomlin.

“You know, I might actually miss him. But don’t tell him I said that,” she told S’kal.

He nodded, taking her hand briefly in his enormous one before turning to clasp Naffon’s shoulder.

“I will come to see you when I return.”

Naffon shot her a quick look, but she didn’t correct him even though she was still torn about the idea of staying on the farm. She continued to vacillate between staying and leaving for the rest of the journey. They had decided to travel on their own rather than wait for a caravan. After everything they had been through, she thought they could more than handle a simple trip on a clearly marked road under sunny skies.

The trip had been wonderful. They’d moved at their own pace, stopping whenever they wanted, and simply enjoyed their time together. But the closer they got to Wainwright, the more nervous she became.

“Why is this bothering you so much, little mouse?” Naffon had asked the previous night. They’d been lying on a blanket outside the wagon, looking up at the stars.

“I’m not sure. I suppose partially because I feel guilty. I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“Are you afraid that Ida won’t forgive you?”

She didn’t even have to think about it.

“No. I know she loves me and I know she’ll forgive me. It’s more about how ashamed I am of myself.”

“Is there anything else that’s worrying you?” He was running his hand up and down her arm in what she knew was intended to be a soothing gesture, but it was beginning to distract her.

“I’m not the same person I was when I left, and I don’t want to be that Dora again.”

“There was nothing wrong with the old Dora,” he said firmly. “That’s the Dora I first fell in love with—and you’re still that Dora. I think this trip just allowed you to shine more brightly.”

“You’re so sweet,” she whispered.

“Not as sweet as you are. Not as sweet as this tasty little neck.” He licked across her mating mark. The purple had finally faded, but he kept threatening to find more berries.

“Or these delicious breasts.” Another teasing lick, and she squirmed beneath him. “But sweetest of all…”

He parted her legs and lowered his head, and she stopped worrying about their return, or anything else.

But that had been last night, and now they were getting closer and closer to the farm. They had decided to take the trade route that ran to the coast rather than going through town. As they approached the crossroad, she spotted the big tree that marked the intersection and the pile of boards that had once been a house.

“I can’t believe we actually thought we could live there,” she murmured as they turned down the road towards the farm.

“It’s just as well that the storm destroyed it before you could move in.” He shuddered. “What if you’d been living there when the storm came?”

“Instead, we were spending the night in another cave.” Her family had been trapped by the rising flood waters. “Make that a crevice,” she added as they passed the spot, so peaceful now without the muddy waters covering the road.

The road moved away from the stream and curved around a hill before reaching the farm. As they came around the corner, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“Stop for a moment.”

He brought the wagon to a halt as she looked out across the farm—the peaceful fields and a distant herd of cattle, the big barn and the horses in the pasture next to the stables, and the big white farmhouse surrounded by flowers.

“It feels like home,” she whispered, and her doubts disappeared like morning mist after the sun rose.

He put his hand over hers and smiled. “Yes. It does.”

They’d barely made it to the house when Ida came flying out of the house, and she tumbled down out of the wagon to throw herself into her arms.

“Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry.”

Ida hugged her tight, and they were both smiling and crying and talking at the same time when an impatient hand tugged on her skirt. She looked down to see Tommy scowling up at her, and she bent down next to him.

“You went away,” he said accusingly.

“Yes, I did.”

“Without saying goodbye.”

“I did say goodbye, but you were asleep.”

“Then it doesn’t count.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. I’m sorry, Tommy. Can you forgive me?”

He held off for another few seconds, then threw his skinny arms around her neck and hugged her.

“I missed you bunches,” he whispered.

“I missed you too.”

She balanced him on her hip and stood back up. Ida had picked up Angel and was exclaiming over how much she’d grown. Naffon was laughing as he told Temel something, and even Kalpar was grinning. Her family. She really was home at last.

EPILOGUE

One month later…

Naffon found Temel in the stables. He was brushing his horse and frowning, his horns drawn together.

“Hiding away from the comm unit?” Naffon asked as he took up a brush and started on the other side of the horse.

“No, just the paperwork. Although my original plan was to take Ida and Tommy for a picnic, but she’s too busy baking pies for everyone on the farm.”

Temel sounded unusually acerbic, and he shot him a quick look.

“You don’t mind her cooking, do you?”

“No, of course not. But there are times when I wish it were easier to be alone with my mate.”

He cleared his throat.

“About that—I’ve been thinking.”

“A dangerous pastime.”

He flashed a grin at the other male. “Undoubtedly. But since Dora and I are also newly mated, there are times when we wish to be alone as well.”

“And the pantry does not qualify,” Temel said severely.

There had been an awkward incident earlier that week when Naffon had tugged Dora into the pantry for a kiss. The kiss had escalated and he’d been so focused on his mate that he hadn’t heard Temel coming until he opened the door and found Naffon with his pants around his knees.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “I was thinking that perhaps it would be better for you to have the main house to yourselves.”

“You’re not thinking of leaving the farm again? Ida would be devastated, and I… I would miss you as well.”

He smiled at Temel and shook his head.

“We don’t want to leave either. But I thought perhaps we could move into the old foreman’s quarters. We wouldn’t be far away, but we would each have a little more privacy.”

And he could bend his pretty little mate over the kitchen table whenever he wanted.

Temel nodded immediately.

“I think it’s an excellent idea. The house needs a little work, but we can help you work on it.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, even though he hadn’t actually thought Temel would object. The next part was a little more difficult.

“There’s something else. I know it’s necessary, but I really don’t enjoy working with the animals. I like working on the machines and I would like to start an experimental garden, but I think you should hire another hand or two to assist Kalpar with the animals.”

To his relief, Temel nodded again.

“There is more involved in running the farm than I’d originally estimated,” he said ruefully. “It had occurred to me that we should hire some additional workers, although I would prefer to hire former warriors if possible. I will ask my contacts in Port Cantor to see if they can locate some suitable candidates.”

“Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me. I will be happy to be able to walk into an empty pantry.”

He grinned. “Or you could always make use of it yourself.”

Temel shot him a quick look, then dropped his eyes. Did that mean…

“It’s very useful for… storage,” he added innocently, trying not to grin.

“The sooner you move out the better,” Temel muttered, but his mouth twitched.

They finished grooming the horse in companionable silence, then started back up the path towards the house. When they paused outside the porch to look back over the quiet farm, Temel put his hand on his shoulder.

“I am very glad you have found peace, Naffon.”

“Not just peace,” he said, smiling softly as he heard Dora laughing in the kitchen. “I found a mate. A family. A future. I never thought I would have any of those.”

“And you deserve all of them.”

Temel’s hand tightened for a moment, and then together they climbed the steps to enjoy the happiness that had so long eluded them.

TWO WEEKS LATER…

Dora couldn’t stop smiling as she and Naffon walked out of the registry office. He’d announced that morning over breakfast that they needed to register their mating.

“Why?” She gave him a puzzled look. “It won’t change anything.”

“I know.” He flashed the teasing smile at her. “But I enjoy calling you my wife. Some human customs are worth repeating.”

She’d laughed at him, but the more she thought about the idea, the more she liked it. When he brought the carriage to the door, she’d been waiting for him in one of her new dresses—one that was actually tailored to fit her.

“Very pretty, little mouse. Almost too pretty. I’m afraid I will have to fight off any human male who sees you.”

Her face flushed with pleasure as he helped her climb into the carriage, but she returned his smile.

“You know you’re the only one I want.”

“Good,” he growled as he handed Angel to her. “I’d hate to start our wedding day with a trail of dead bodies.”

Mr. Madison, the registrar, didn’t even blink when Naffon stalked into his office and demanded a marriage certificate. Apparently he had become accustomed to human and alien marriages, although he did insist on a brief exchange of vows while his assistant held Angel.

“Is there a ring?” he asked when they reached that part of the ceremony, clearly not expecting one.

“No, but—”

Her words stuttered to a halt when Naffon picked up her hand and slid a ring onto her finger. A pretty diamond surrounded by a river of sapphires.

“It reminded me of our journey,” he said softly as her eyes filled with tears. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” She blinked back the tears as she turned to smile at Mr. Madison. “There is most definitely a ring.”

She was still smiling when they left the registry office at the conclusion of the brief ceremony. They had decided to pick up a few things while they were in town, but as they headed for the general store she saw Mildred Raven coming down the sidewalk towards them. She had a sudden flashback to the last time she’d seen the banker’s wife—when she’d ducked into the alley to avoid her and ran into Naffon. For a moment she had a foolish impulse to hide again, but then she glanced up at Naffon cradling Angel against his shoulder. No. No more hiding.

She tucked her hand in his arm and continued towards the store. She watched as Mildred caught sight of them, her eyes flicking over Naffon disdainfully. For a moment Dora thought the other woman might decide to avoid them, but she hurried towards them instead, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She was a stocky little woman with a round face and rosy cheeks, but her eyes always revealed the mean spirit behind the pleasant facade.

“Why, Dora. What a pleasant surprise.” Her tone implied the exact opposite. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in town.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been busy,” she said politely.

“Ah, yes. No doubt your new… sister takes up much of your time.”

Mildred glanced over at Angel, her mouth pursed, and Dora suddenly realized that she’d never really had any chance of concealing Angel’s parentage. There would always have been gossip.

“Angel isn’t my sister, as I suspect you already know,” she said quietly. “She’s my daughter.”

“Our daughter.”

Naffon said it with the same convincing certainty with which he’d claimed Angel back at the caravan, and Mildred tittered spitefully.

“Oh, really? I don’t remember seeing you around town much. But then I don’t suppose it takes long to seduce an… innocent young girl. Especially if she’s not really innocent.”

Mildred’s disdainful sniff made her opinion of Dora’s character quite clear, but the other woman’s opinion meant nothing to her.

“No, it didn’t take long. My husband swept me off my feet the first time we met.”

She smiled up at Naffon and he returned it, blue eyes sparkling.

“Husband?”

The shock on Mildred’s face gave her immense satisfaction.

“Why, yes.” She fluttered her ring at the other woman. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some shopping to do.”

They left Mildred standing there, her mouth still open.

“What an unpleasant female,” Naffon muttered.

“Very unpleasant, although I suppose we should actually be grateful to her.”

“Grateful? Why?”

“Because she was the one I was trying to avoid the first time you and I met.”

His eyes heated, clearly remembering the encounter as well as she did.

“She’s the one who sent my sweet little mouse scurrying into my arms? I am indeed grateful. Perhaps I should leave a fresh kill on her doorstep as a symbol of my gratitude,” he added innocently, and she choked.

“I’m not sure that would really convey gratitude.”

“No? What a shame.” His footsteps slowed as they started past the bank. “If I remember correctly, this next alley is where we met. Should we take a walk down it? For old time’s sake?”

From the blue sparks flaring in his eyes, she suspected he had more than a walk in mind. For a moment she was tempted, but then she shook her head.

“I think I’d rather just get our shopping done and go home. Hopefully we can find some time to be alone later.”

Something flickered across his expression, but he only nodded and kept walking.

Mrs. Anderson, the shopkeeper’s wife, waited on them, her face alive with curiosity as she brought down several bolts of fabric for Dora to inspect. She was also one of the town’s biggest gossips, but she was far less mean-spirited than Mildred.

“I understand you’re living out at the old Johnson farm now,” she said as she showed Dora a pretty sprigged muslin.

“That’s right. My husband likes being close to his comrades and I enjoy the tranquility of the country.”

Mrs. Anderson gave a faint gasp, her eyes flying to Dora’s ring.

“Husband? I didn’t know you were married. Congratulations?”

The last word was more of a question than an acknowledgement, but Dora gave her a cheerful smile.

“We’ve kept it very quiet. Naffon had other… duties to perform before we could be together permanently.”

“I see,” Mrs. Anderson said doubtfully, but she let herself be directed back to the fabrics. “Have you seen this new silk? It’s an exquisite fabric, but it’s very tricky to sew.”

“Hmm.” She caressed the dark purple silk thoughtfully. “I believe I could work with it.”

“Really? I don’t suppose you’d be interested in making a dress for me? Since Becky went off to live at the ranch, there’s no one in town who takes custom orders.”

Dora looked up at Naffon, and he gave her an encouraging nod.

“I’d be happy to make one for you as long as you’re not in a hurry. I’ll need to sew it by hand so it will take a while.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s really more of a winter color anyway. But I do have a design in mind…”

By the time they’d agreed on a design and stepped into the back so Dora could take Mrs. Anderson’s measurements, at least half an hour had passed and Angel was beginning to fuss.

“I’m afraid we really need to go, Mrs. Anderson.”

“Oh, please. Call me Miranda. And would you mind if I spread the word that you’re taking on some dressmaking jobs?”

“Why don’t we wait and see if you’re happy with your dress first? And my daughter can be very demanding,” she added with a laugh as Angel tried to lunge towards her.

Miranda didn’t even blink when she called Angel her daughter, confirming her earlier suspicion that the town already knew the truth.

“I understand.” The other woman nodded solemnly. “I’ll only mention it to a few of my closest friends.”

“Which means it will be all over town by nightfall,” Dora told Naffon as he drove the carriage out of town.

“Do you mind? Is it still something you want to do?”

“I think so,” she said as she shifted Angel to her other breast. “I really do enjoy sewing and a few extra credits never hurt. Even though I know you can provide for us,” she added quickly when he stiffened.

He relaxed, then put his arm around her.

“Do you mind if we make a little detour on the way home?”

“Of course not.”

She was in no hurry for their time alone to come to an end. As much as she enjoyed being back with her family, the farmhouse was always busy and she sometimes found herself missing their time alone on the trail.

“It’s such a beautiful day,” she added, looking up at the clear blue sky arching overhead.

Summer had come, the fields dreaming lazily under a warm, golden sun. As they took the road next to the creek, the heady fragrance of wild flowers filled the air and he stopped long enough to pick a bunch for her. Next to them, the creek sparkled merrily, murmuring over the rocks.

“It looks so innocent now,” she said as she pulled one of the blossoms away from Angel’s eager grasp. “As if it could never be a threat.”

“I know, but we should be grateful to it as well. If Temel hadn’t come looking for your family, you might never have made it to the farm and I might never have found you.”

“Maybe we should call it Mildred Creek,” she suggested, and he laughed. “I thought you were going to take a detour,” she added as he continued down the road towards the farm.

“I am. You’ll see.”

His eyes were alive with mischief, but he didn’t volunteer any more information. They were almost back to the main house when instead of turning right into the driveway, he turned to the left onto a small lane running beneath the trees.

“Where does this—oh!”

The lane ended in a pretty clearing in front of a small white farmhouse. It had obviously been newly painted and the railing on the porch across the front rebuilt. Someone had even planted flowers along the path leading to the door.

“What is this place?”

“It was the old foreman’s cottage. We weren’t originally planning on doing anything with it, but I thought you might like having a home of your own.”

His face was almost painfully anxious, and she choked back a sob.

“Like it? I love it! I can’t believe you did all this without even telling me.”

“I thought perhaps this was one time when you might forgive me for not telling you everything.”

“You’re forgiven,” she said shakily as she pulled his head down for a kiss.

His mouth opened over hers, hot and hard and delicious, and she could have kissed him for days but Angel was squirming in her lap and she couldn’t wait to explore their new house.

“Can we see inside?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Although we don’t have much furniture yet.”

“I don’t care,” she assured him as he helped her down from the carriage.

He was right—the house was almost empty, sunlight gleaming on the polished wood floors and freshly painted walls. But there was a big wooden table in the kitchen and the carved wooden crib that Ida had handed down to her was waiting in a bedroom under the eaves.

“This is going to be perfect for Angel,” she said, looking out at the trees rustling gently outside the big windows.

“Why don’t you let her try it out since she’s half-asleep already? I have more to show you.”

Heat curled low in her stomach as his eyes glowed with blue fire.

“All right,” she whispered.

Angel settled down with a contented little sigh, falling asleep almost immediately, and she turned to him, trailing her fingers down his chest.

“Now what did you want to show me?”

He gave a low growl and pulled her out of the room, but instead of taking her to another bedroom, he opened the door next to Angel’s. The room was identical to hers except that it looked out towards the front of the house. She caught a glimpse of the main farmhouse through the trees, but she was more interested in the brand new sewing machine on a table in front of the window.

“You bought me a sewing machine? You couldn’t possibly have known that Mrs. Anderson would ask me to make her a dress.”

“No, but I know you enjoy sewing. And I know how much the one we lost in the wagon mattered to you. Do you like it?”

The foolish male actually looked anxious. Her throat was too tight for words, so she launched herself at him, trying to kiss as much of his face as she could reach. He growled low in his throat and lifted her up into his arms so he could return the kisses, his hands clenching on her ass as he brought her tightly against his erection. She wiggled eagerly against him, her clit already aching for his touch.

He never stopped kissing her as he carried her across the hall and into the room she’d originally expected—a bedroom that ran the length of the house, empty except for the big bed.

“Need you, wife.” His mouth dropped to her neck, scraping his fangs across her mating mark and sending little shocks of excitement through her body.

“I need you too.”

She yanked impatiently at her dress as he laid her down on their bed, the buttons eluding her, and his eyes glowed with approval.

“Eager little mouse.”

“Hurry,” she urged him, but he was already freeing his erection, the thick golden shaft springing out between them.

He didn’t wait for her to remove her dress, shoving her skirts out of the way as he slid his hand between her thighs.

“Very eager,” he murmured approvingly as his fingers danced across her slick folds. She whimpered in protest when he took his hand away, but he gave her a wicked grin as he notched his cock at her entrance.

“Mine.”

He drove into her in one hard stroke—too hard, too fast, and absolutely perfect. Her climax tore through her like a whirlwind, leaving her gasping and clinging to him as he filled her again and again before he bit down on her neck as his seed flooded her with heat.

His body sagged over hers and he rolled to one side, tucking her against him.

“I guess you like the new house,” he said finally, laughter in his voice, and she raised her head so she could look at him.

“I love the house, I love the sewing machine, and most of all, I love you.”

“And I love you, my beautiful wife.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, a kiss that turned to a teasing smile.

“And now I get to bend you over our kitchen table and feast on you anytime I want.”

She smiled back at him.

“Even before Angel wakes up again?”

“Definitely,” he growled as he lifted her off the bed and headed for the stairs. “I’m sure I can make you come at least twice before then.”

He was right.

S’kal’s constant travels have not brought him peace—could one small human female change that? Find out in S’kal!

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Thank you so much for reading Naffon! I really enjoyed sending Naffon and Dora off on an adventure to discover new parts of Cresca - and new things about themselves! They had quite a journey, and I hope you enjoyed being along for the ride!

Whether you enjoyed the story or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon – reviews are one of the best ways to help other readers find my books!

As usual, I have to thank my readers for coming on these adventures with me - I couldn’t do it without you!

And, as always, a special thanks to my beta team – Janet S, Nancy V, and Kitty S. Your thoughts and comments are incredibly helpful!

How the Aliens Were Won

continues with S’kal!

When S’kal discovers a pretty, frightened female hiding on his trading caravan, his first instinct is to protect her. His second is to claim her. But Evie is far too innocent for a hardened warrior - especially one who cannot escape his past.

Click here to order S’kal!

And if you’d like to read about more about how the farm became available, check out You Got Alien Trouble! - Rosie and Harkan’s story!

You Got Alien Trouble! is available on Amazon!

Or you can get a FREE copy by clicking here to sign up for my newsletter!

The audio version of You Got Alien Trouble! is also available for FREE on my direct store -

honeyphillips.myshopify.com!

OTHER TITLES

HOMESTEAD WORLDS

Seven Brides for Seven Alien Brothers

Artek

Benjar

Callum

Drakkar

Endark

Frantor

Gilmat

You Got Alien Trouble!

How the Aliens Were Won

Borgaz

Temel

Naffon

S’kal

Cosmic Fairy Tales

Jackie and the Giant

Blind Date with an Alien

Her Alien Farmhand

Cyborgs on Mars

High Plains Cyborg

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

A Fistful of Cyborg

A Few Cyborgs More

The Magnificent Cyborg

The Outlaw Cyborg

The Cyborg with No Name

Cyborg Rider

KAISARIAN EMPIRE

The Alien Abduction Series

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

Deb and the Demon

Ella and the Emperor

Faith and the Fighter

Greta and the Gargoyle

Hanna and the Hitman

Izzie and the Icebeast

Joan and the Juggernaut

Kate and the Kraken

Lily and the Lion

Mary and the Minotaur

Nancy and the Naga

Olivia and the Orc

Pandora and the Prisoner

Quinn and the Queller

Rita and the Raider

Sara and the Spymaster

Tammy and the Traitor

Folsom Planet Blues

Alien Most Wanted: Caged Beast

Alien Most Wanted: Prison Mate

Alien Most Wanted: Mastermind

Alien Most Wanted: Unchained

Stranded with an Alien

Sinta - A SciFi Holiday Tail

Cosmic Cinema

My Fair Alien

The Alien and I

Skruj

Horned Holidays

Krampus and the Crone

A Gift for Nicholas

A Kiss of Frost

Treasured by the Alien

Mama and the Alien Warrior

A Son for the Alien Warrior

Daughter of the Alien Warrior

A Family for the Alien Warrior

The Nanny and the Alien Warrior

A Home for the Alien Warrior

A Gift for the Alien Warrior

A Treasure for the Alien Warrior

Three Babies and the Alien Warrior

Sanctuary for the Alien Warrior

Exposed to the Elements

The Naked Alien

The Bare Essentials

A Nude Attitude

The Buff Beast

The Strip Down

The Alien Invasion Series

Alien Selection

Alien Conquest

Alien Prisoner

Alien Breeder

Alien Alliance

Alien Hope

Alien Castaway

Alien Chief

Alien Ruler

COZY MONSTERS

Fairhaven Falls

Cupcakes for My Orc Enemy

Trouble for My Troll

Fireworks for My Dragon Boss

The Single Mom and the Orc

Mistletoe for My Minotaur

Valentine for My Vampire

Protected by the Orc

Monster Between the Sheets

Extra Virgin Gargoyle

Without a Stitch

Standalones

Hot Wolf in the City

Mated to the Swamp Monster

FANTASY

The Five Kingdoms

The Orc’s Hidden Bride

The Orc’s Stolen Bride

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Honey Phillips writes steamy science fiction stories about hot alien warriors and the human women they can’t resist. From abductions to invasions, the ride might be rough, but the end always satisfies.

Honey wrote and illustrated her first book at the tender age of five. Her writing has improved since then. Her drawing skills, unfortunately, have not. She loves writing, reading, traveling, cooking, and drinking champagne - not necessarily in that order.

Honey loves to hear from her wonderful readers! You can stalk her at any of the following locations…

www.facebook.com/HoneyPhillipsAuthor

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www.honeyphillips.com