Alien Beast's Warrior Bride - Juno Wells Page 0,38
Moltan in particular and how the horns are the best part because you can sharpen your teeth on them when you’re full. I infer they like chewing on things. They end up agreeing that their queen is likely bringing them delectable fruits from their home world.
My irritation clicks up a notch when they begin to stray into a disagreement about who can eat the most fruit. I decide right there on the spot that Sonarians are not my kind of aliens, cause all they do is argue about stupid stuff at every turn.
Amber finally opens her eyes. “My mate advises we contact the Draconians for transport.”
I nod my agreement. There is absolutely no way we can fit all these Sonarians in my vehicle, and I don’t even know how our prisoner managed to cover such a vast distance. Truth be told, I just don’t care. Right now we have bigger fish to fry.
I get on my com and key in Mathadar’s communications code.
“General Watson, where are you? We’ve been searching all over for you.”
“I brought Amber back to pick up the last of the harmonic creatures, and we discovered the rest of the Sonarians.”
“Hold your position. We’ll send reinforcements right away.”
“No need to break a leg getting here. Apparently they ate the last of their Moltan handlers and are kind of laying around having some down time.”
“Repeat. Please repeat. We do not understand.” His voice sounds frantic.
“We’re all fine. The Moltan are all dead. The Sonarians are just arguing about who can eat more fruit.” It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. “Seriously, just send a few of those shuttle platforms so we can get everyone back. I’m going to investigate where the Moltan were hiding. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”
“Negative. Do not approach enemy territory. The Moltan have shielding technology that can keep you from seeing traps. Wait on our warriors to arrive.”
“Roger that. I’ll wait.” Although I’m curious, I’m not interested in getting blown up just when I’m about to get off this dying world.
Looking around, I wonder how we went from shooting the place up to chill in a matter of minutes. Amber is holding up one hand while several of her tiny friends appear to be engaging in some kind of intricate dance around the golden-hued shifter guy.
The Sonarians are now debating the necessity of shoes. Some insist that foot coverings aren’t natural and can’t help but slow a warrior down while others insist they could protect from rocks, sharp objects and deadly insects. Then they branch off into a conversation about if it’s possible to make shoes out of rock and what the benefits would be of rock shoes.
Me? I just lean back against the wall and check two things off my long list of worries. Maybe with this accidentally sorted we can proceed with the withdrawal. I’m going to investigate the enemy stronghold with our backup when they arrive, but I’ll let Mathadar and his guys unravel the mystery of how and why the Sonarians were abducted. This mission is officially over, and that’s all I care about right now.
Enlightening Talk
Borak
Healers come to me instead of requesting I go to the healing center because our Molly insisted on my behalf. Upon removing my bandages, they discovered I inadvertently pulled open a weak spot in one of the minor arteries they repaired last night.
“Have you been feeling weak? Dizzy? Drowsy?”
Asking me to admit to being weak in front of our queens gets him a much deserved show of fang. “I am not weak.” Though I intend to roar, it comes out as a much less powerful sound.
Chantel must understand a warrior’s mind, because she gathers up the other two queens and herds them out of our quarters. When she looks back with concern in her eyes, I wave her away.
The healer murmurs, “Answer my questions.”
“Yes, no and yes.” I ground out the words, angry with myself for being weak.
“You old blood warriors are more stubborn than is advisable. It’s like you have no wish to stay alive. You should have contacted us when the bleeding started. Did I not advise this last night?”
Slumping back as he uses a handheld healing unit on the artery, I murmur tiredly, “I am fine.”
“You are not.”
“I will be fine.”
“Between the scouring last night and the bleeding today, you’ve lost too much blood. We’ll have to relocate you to the primary healing unit aboard our battleship in order to synthesize blood.”
“That is fine.