Sarazen's Claim, Book One (6 page)

“About?”

“Clearly, females who study flowers do lead warriors.”

Her blush was adorable, and he had to fight to keep his need from showing plainly. His warriors could smell it, but his little human mate had no such ability and for a while longer he was able to keep from frightening her further with more changes than she was able to cope with. “They have chosen wisely. Clary Starborn, this is Falken, my Second Commander,” He turned to introduce her to his oldest friend, but Falken was too busy staring at one of the females. He followed the line of his sight and saw that he was staring at one of the females with pale hair and dark eyes. She didn’t appear to be pleased with Falken’s scrutiny and snapped at him, “What are you staring at?” He lifted his brows at her waspishness, but Falken wasn’t deterred, “Remarkable beauty.” The female frowned like no one had ever told her she was beautiful, and confused as to whether or not Falken was being insincere. “Falken?”

It was obviously difficult for him to tear his gaze away, and he understood the sensation of not wanting to let his mate out of his sight. But when he did, there was triumph in his friend’s gold gaze, and he nodded tightly, half grinning as he answered, “Yes.” He was thrilled for his friend, relieved, because he would not be leaving him behind and offered his arm, grinning at him, “The God’s smile on us, my friend.” Falken squeezed his arm tightly, and Clary cleared her throat. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Clary Starborn. We will escort you and your female companions to the medical bay. I imagine some of them are frightened and would welcome your presence.”

Clary nodded and looked from the two of them to where Ohlen was waiting, staring at the tiny little female. He took pity on his men and bent to murmur softly in Clary’s ear, “I will explain to you how important you and all of these females are to us, soon. Falken and Ohlen both have been called by two of these females, would you grant them succor and give their names?” He felt her tremble, but she gave no scent of fear, in fact the scent that filled his nostrils was sweeter. Her desire. His voice in her ear, his closeness, it made her respond to him, desire him. “C-called?” She whispered back, her voice breathless, huskier, and the musk of her want deepened when he purred for her, “As you have called me.”

“O-oh. The mate thing?”

He laughed and touched his nose to her hair, inhaling deeply of her scent and looking up through the veil of his lashes to see all of the females focused intently on what he was doing, some of them worried, others intrigued, a few frightened, and Ohlen’s little one looked saddened. On the verge of tears as she looked away and hugged her arms around herself. “Yes, the mate thing. Are you prepared to speak of it yet?” She shook her head quickly, and he hummed, hoping that soon she would be ready to hear and accept what the God’s had gifted to them. “Very well. Perhaps this evening.”

He straightened and kept her close, looking at the other females while Clary got hold of herself and introduced them to the women. Falken’s mate was called Cassie Arianite, and the small one belonging to Ohlen was Andi Starsong. “You are siblings?” He asked his Clary, nodding to Olen’s mate, hoping Falken’s female was not related to the cowardly male in the adjacent barracks. But to his relief, Clary shook her head. “No. We were born on the same ship. We have no surnames, just our first name and the ship we were born on. It’s kind of a long story.” He nodded and let his hand slide down the long, delicate arch of her spine to settle just above the round of her shapely backside. “For later, then. Come,” A few of the females hid giggles behind their hands, and he looked down at his mate to see that she was blushing and had rolled her lips together to keep from smiling. “Is something amusing?” He asked, and the females all shook their heads and fell into line to follow them out. He looked down at Clary and arched his brow in question, but she shook her head and blushed, “Later.”

Clary quietly questioned him when he instructed Ga’rae to give only Cassie and Andi translator chips. She was smart, his female, speaking in the Sarazen tongue and not her own when she asked, protecting the already uncertain females who seemed terrified of Ga’rae, but were listening to the six who had already undergone the exam and assuring them that Ga’rae was very gentle despite his size. “They have called my warriors, Clary. They will need to understand our words so that their mates can soothe their fears, whatever they may be. The little one especially.”

“How can you be certain these injections won’t be harmful to us? Our biological systems are not possibly the same, a dose of anything helpful to you, could be toxic to us.”

He looked up to see another small, red haired female who was about to climb up on the medical table, was glaring at Ga’rae. And Ga’rae had this look on his face that was both insulted and fascinated at the same time. His lips twitched, because it appeared that another of his warriors had been called. “My scans of your biological systems indicate that our races are similar in many ways. And all injections given, female, are engineered by a computer advanced beyond your comprehension, specifically to suit your species. Nothing I will give you, will cause any kind of harmful reaction. Are you sterile?” The female lifted her chin and glared hotly at Ga’rae. “Is that relevant?” Ga’rae pointed to his Clary and growled at the bold little female, “In reaction to being given blood, your Commander suffered excruciating pain while her womb was regenerated by it. Had I known it, I could have better prepared and given her a tonic for pain before it began. So yes, female, it is relevant.”

By this time Ga’rae had drawn himself up to his full height, glaring at his mate with fire and desire in his eyes, and the little witch climbed up on the table so that she could meet that gaze and drilled her finger into Ga’rae’s chest. “If your scanning equipment is so good, how could you have missed the fact that her uterus was missing? Huh? And what kind of doctor are you, that you would give a patient blood without knowing her blood type?” Clary cleared her throat loudly, “Gwen, stand down. Now.” His cock swelled in vicious reaction to the sound of her voice having hardened with command. The furious female atop the table huffed, promptly sat down on her ass and lay back on the table with one more defiant glare for his medic. “And for your information, yes, I’m sterile.”

Ga’rae’s jaw clenched so hard that his flesh whitened, evidence of his rage, and activated the scan to sweep his female’s tiny form. It was almost comical, the difference in their size. The top of her head would barely come to his chest, yet she was fierce enough to climb up onto something so that she was not at a disadvantage. A fine mate for a warrior. “Holy shit, that’s a biometric quantum field generator!” Ga’rae grunted again and made notations on the female’s individual medical file. “I am pleased it meets with your approval.”

“Can I see a scan of you?”

“What?”

“Gwen is a medical science officer, Ga’rae. Like you, sort of.”

Clary’s news delighted Ga’rae, and once he was done with Gwen’s scan, he cued up a holographic rendering of a warrior, and the female was beside herself with delight. She hopped back up onto her knees and grabbed Ga’rae’s arm to look at his tablet, firing off rapid questions about their medical equipment, the procedures, and when Clary asked if Gwen was ready to go back to the barrack, and she shook her head, waving a dismissive hand their way. “No, no. You go ahead, Mountain man here will see me back, won’t you?” Ga’rae, fascinated, just nodded and he saw Clary smirk, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I don’t care if he’s an ass, he has amazing equipment.”

Gwen only looked up when all the females started to laugh, and when she did, she realized she was halfway into Ga’rae’s arms because she had turned her back to his chest and hauled his arm around her so she could read the display and see what happened when she touched this or that on the tablet. Ga’rae was grinning stupidly and sniffing at his female, “I meant his
medical
, equipment.” She hissed, scarlet with embarrassment, “Never fear, little one, I assure you all of my equipment will dazzle you.” She scowled and slammed her elbow back into his chest, while her companions continued to giggle. “Go on, I can handle the moose.” Four, so far four of his warriors in so many days had been called. The Gods were indeed smiling on them.

He held that thought, and his female, close to his heart as they returned to the barracks. He watched in somewhat of an amused daze while Ohlen showed the females, the
women
, as Clary preferred to call them, how to operate the food simulator. It was comical, the millions of questions they asked, and how his usually tight lipped warrior had to struggle for patience with the others, when really he was doing his best to try and get close to his fearful mate. Clary remained at his side, and he could smell her discomfort even though she was outwardly calm, watching her people get comfortable with their food choices, swapping plates with one another until each of them found a dish that satisfied their tastes. “Come with me, I would like to show you something.” She looked up at him, and though she smiled he could see the sadness in her eyes.

It made him distinctly unhappy to see her upset, hiding it from him too, and he had to remind himself that she had just lost everything she knew, her home, her purpose. She walked beside him in the long corridors, her eyes searching the walls, the floor, every bit of their surroundings and it pleased him she was so attentive, amused him because he knew to her eyes there was no way to identify where they were in his ship. “Sarazens can identify heat signatures.” He told her finally, and she looked up at him with an adorable little frown, “The corridors, there are markings invisible to most eyes, to identify where we are.” She blinked and said, “Oh. I suppose that makes perfect sense on a war ship. If a miracle happened and your enemies were able to board, they would get lost in all the corridors.”

It pleased him that she was so confident of the abilities of his kind. That she was so keen and had correctly guessed why to anyone other than a Sarazen, the corridors looked all the same. “Do you study tactics of war, little one?” She shook her head, shooting him a look of surprise when he took and curled his fingers around her soft hand, needing some kind of connection with her to soothe his agitated beast. “No. Um, but my father did. Does.” She corrected, and he hummed, wondering aloud if she knew where her sire was at this time. “I don’t. No. Hopefully alive and well, aboard the
Starsong
.”

“But you have had no contact with your other vessels, for five of your cycles, yes?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She replied softly, sadly, and his ground his teeth in agitation.

He took her to the small temple aboard his ship, to the garden that overflowed with vegetation native to Saraz, and sighed with relief at the wonder on her beautiful face. She walked away from him to investigate the space, her palms curling as she bent to examine a flowering plant, and he was somewhat ashamed to say he couldn’t identify it. “This is all native fauna?” she asked, looking back at him for his affirmative answer. “Our planet is lush with forests and vegetation, the capital city is like any other, I assume, with many buildings all in close proximity, but the farther the outer circles go, the denser the plant life grows. This is our temple, small in comparison to some, but you will see many like it on Saraz.”

“Temple?”

“Mm, some come here before battle to speak prayers of victory to The Beast.”

He pointed through the bush to where the stone pillars stood, circled loosely around the large statue of The Beast, and Clary seemed equally fascinated by it. She circled the idol slowly, asking his permission before touching it, and he wondered if the Beast was pleased with her soft sound of awe. “It looks like a creature that once lived on my world. A Saber Tooth Tiger. Only bigger. This is a feline, a cat.” Her soft hands made a hissing noise against the cool stone, and she touched the damn piece of rock almost reverently. He found himself jealous, of an intimate object. An object which seemed to be laughing at him when he looked into its stone face.

More to distract himself than anything else, he found him telling her of his homeworld, eager to see her reactions and hear her questions. To gain her attention once more. “There are smaller such creatures on Saraz. They are beautiful, but deadly. If their claws do not kill you, the poison in their bite certainly will. They live in the high mountains and come down in the winter months when food is scarce. It is unlikely you will ever see one.”

“Why?”

“I would not allow such danger to come within sight of you.”

She glanced at him then, her cheeks turning a soft pink as her scent mixed with the flowers and vines growing around them. Desire. Curiosity. Sadness. Still sad, Beast’s Teeth! He didn’t know what to do to alleviate her sadness. “I did not bring you here to cause you more sadness,” He told her finally, not knowing what to say, and she hummed, her fingers dropping from the stone statue, moving on to view the carvings behind it. “It’s starting to hit me now, the reality that my home is gone. I am grateful, beyond grateful, that I am alive, that some of my ship mates are alive, even more grateful that so far you and your warriors have been so generous, so kind and patient when we must be so frustrating to have to deal with.”