Hope for the Alien Warrior (Treasured By the Alien #12)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“ A bsolutely not.”

Felicity shifted her weight, trying not to stare at the striking alien female blocking their path. Venma was almost as tall as Luxor, her silvery scales catching the light as she glared at him. Four arms crossed over her chest in a universal gesture of refusal. Her naked chest. The female was wearing the same type of weapons harness that Luxor wore and it left all four breasts bare.

“It is a simple request,” Luxor said calmly, but she could see the subtle ripple that ran down his tail. He was not nearly as relaxed as he seemed. “You have the supplies we need. I have credits and trade goods.”

“We have some of the supplies,” Venma amended. “But I am short on fuel and I have no intention of wasting it on you.”

“Is there not another ship due in later today? You can include it on that delivery.”

“Not interested.” Venma’s violet eyes flicked to Felicity. “Though I see you’ve acquired some… interesting cargo.”

Heat crept up her neck at being referred to as cargo, but she kept her expression neutral. The trading post behind Venma bustled with activity, aliens of all shapes and sizes moving cargo and haggling over goods, and they needed those supplies.

“We have children on board,” she said, stepping forward despite the warning flick of Luxor’s tail. “Surely you won’t deny-”

“I deny whatever I please in my port.” Venma’s scales rippled, creating mesmerizing patterns. “Luxor knows better than to come here after what he did.”

“What exactly did he do?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

“He cheated me.” Venma’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Luxor.

“No, I did not,” he said, his voice flat. “You know damn well that your so-called inspector was a crook. He cheated you, not me.”

“You didn’t make that claim at the time.”

He gave a disgusted snort.

“There did not seem to be any point under the circumstances. You were not prepared to listen to me.”

Venma’s scales flushed a darker silver, but then she uncrossed one of her arms and waved dismissively.

“It’s too late now. Get off my moon, Luxor.”

Dammit. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. She did another quick scan of the trading post and this time she noticed the absence of medical care. A thin, grey male limped past, favoring his right leg. Near a stack of crates, a young alien pressed a dirty cloth against an oozing wound. A male worker struggled to lift boxes with three arms while his fourth hung limp and swollen. The discoloration creeping up from his wrist spoke volumes.

“I’m a doctor.” She gestured at the struggling male. “I could help him.”

“What do you know about treating other species?” Venma asked dismissively.

“Enough to see that worker is fighting a serious infection. The spread pattern suggests bacterial involvement. Without proper treatment, he’ll lose that limb within days.”

The worker froze, his good arms clutching protectively at the injured one. Venma’s head snapped towards him, then back to Felicity.

“And you claim you can heal him?” Venma’s voice carried a dangerous edge.

“I can try. At minimum, I can stop the infection and give the arm a chance to heal naturally.” She met those cold violet eyes steadily. “Let me help him. That’s all I’m asking.”

Luxor had tensed next to her, but he remained silent, and Venma finally gave a grudging nod.

“Very well. I will consider the situation while you tend to him. You can use that stall.”

Grateful that she’d thought to bring her medical bag with her, she took a seat under the stall as the worker hurried over. Luxor followed, standing silently behind her as she cleaned the infection from the male’s arm, applying a fresh bandage with practiced movements. His silver scales felt rough under her fingers, but the basic principles of wound care remained the same across species. By the time she finished, the swelling had already started to recede.

“Keep this clean and dry. Change the dressing daily.” She secured the bandage. “The medicine I gave you should handle the rest.”

The worker flexed his other arms in thanks and shuffled away. Venma had been standing to one side of the stall watching, and the female gave her a challenging look as another alien took his place—this one with blue scales and a nasty burn across their shoulder. She nodded and set to work.

By the time they left, the line of patients curved along the edge of the post. She treated patient after patient as the hours blurred together. Burns, cuts, broken bones, infections—the injuries told stories of hard labor and harsh conditions.

“You need rest,” Luxor said at one point, his tail twitching unhappily.

“I’m fine.” She dabbed antiseptic on another burn, trying not to let her hands shake from exhaustion.

“You are swaying.” His tail curved protectively around her waist.

“These people need help.”

He sighed but dropped the argument. He remained a steady presence at her back, passing her supplies and keeping watch. His body tensed whenever someone got too close, but he didn’t try to stop her again.

When the last patient finally left, her legs threatened to give out. She sank onto a nearby crate, her medical bag empty.

Venma approached, holding out a steaming mug. The liquid inside smelled sweet and herbal and she took it gratefully.

“Why did you help them? You didn’t have to.”

She wrapped her fingers around the warm cup, letting its heat seep into her tired hands. She thought of all the faces she’d treated today—alien features twisted in pain, then softening with relief.

“It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

Venma nodded, and turned to Luxor.

“What do you wish to trade?”

Her eyelids drooped as they negotiated. The tea had warmed her insides, but exhaustion pulled at her limbs like weights.

“Two crates of protein packs, water recyclers, and basic medical supplies.” Venma’s gruff tone had softened considerably since earlier.

“Plus the fuel cells.” Luxor’s tail brushed against Felicity’s back. “Time to get you back to the ship.”

“Let her rest here.” Venma waved at a cushioned bench in front of a nearby building. “You’ll be loading supplies for at least an hour.”

He hesitated, his tail tightening around her waist.

“I’ll be fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Nina’s safe with Carla, and I could use a few more minutes to recover.”

He searched her face intently before he nodded and turned to Venma.

“You give me your word she will come to no harm?”

“I do.”

“Then I will return soon.”

As his footsteps faded, Venma settled beside her with a fresh pot of tea. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of cargo being moved. The tea’s sweet aroma filled her nose as she gathered her courage.

“Did you really think Luxor had cheated you?”

“Yes. Well, perhaps. I was angry with him and it was easy to believe the worst.”

“Why were you angry?”

Venma shot her a quick glance, then stared down into her tea.

“I do not trust many males. Most of those who approach me are looking for ways to seize what I have here. But the Cire have a reputation as honorable males. Luxor’s reputation was somewhat… tarnished, but I was lonely and I hoped that he had enough honor not to try and take this place from me.” Her mouth twisted. “Instead, he refused to even consider my offer. He didn’t want to run the trading post with me. He didn’t want me.”

The idea of Luxor with Venma sent an unexpected surge of jealousy through her veins, but she forced her voice to remain calm. She understood loneliness. And she couldn’t blame the other female for finding him attractive.

“He doesn’t like to be tied down,” she said cautiously.

“True. And I should have remembered that a Cire male can only mate with a Cire female.”

The world threatened to sway around her. They had not discussed the future at all—there were still far too many unknowns, including finding Lauren. But until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d begun to hope he would have a part in that future.

“What do you mean by mate?” she asked, her voice sounding strange in her ears.

“A permanent bond between a pair. Or sometimes more than two individuals, although I have never heard of it in connection with the Cire.” Venma’s expression softened as she looked over at her. “And yet he seems to want to be with you.”

“I think so. We have…” She paused, searching for the right word. “A connection.”

But was that enough?

“A connection?” Venma’s smile grew. “Does that mean he has brought you pleasure?”

Her cheeks flushed and the other female laughed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease. You have done so much to help me today. You have my gratitude.” Venma sighed. “And I suppose I’m happy that you have found each other. It is hard to be alone.”

The words reassured her, but the nagging doubt remained. Did it matter if he couldn’t mate with her? If there was no future? Or could the connection they shared be enough to overcome their differences?

The sound of Luxor’s footsteps approaching ended her internal debate. He looked exhausted but triumphant, and his tail flicked towards her when he caught sight of her.

“The ship is ready to depart,” he announced.

Venma rose to her feet and smiled at her again.

“If your situation changes, you are always welcome here.”

“Thank you. Perhaps we could come back for a visit another time.”

“I would like that.”

Luxor’s tail circled her waist and pulled her to his side, and she let his soothing scent wash over her, chasing away the lingering doubts. She smiled up at him.

“Let’s go.”