Sons of Lyra: Fight For Love [Sons of Lyra Series] Read online

  Ambra looked up at him with wide eyes and understanding gradually dawned in them. She touched his cybernetic arm and forced a smile.

  "I'll always love Jericho ... always. It doesn't matter what it takes to save him. I'll always be there for him when he needs me."

  Remi's hand covered hers and held it.

  "Thank you Remi ... I know that if it weren't for you ... he'd be dead already,” Ambra said with another smile, this one holding more feeling.

  "I'll be there for you both—” He wavered on the spot, swallowed hard, and then collapsed to his knees.

  Ambra looked horrified.

  Emmanuelle rushed to his side, crouching close to him and placing her hand against his back. He wearily raised his head and looked at her. His pupils dilated and contracted, clearly struggling to focus.

  "Will you let me attend to you now?” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  She pulled his arm around her shoulder and helped him stand with the aid of a male nurse.

  "You were fooling nobody by saying you were fine,” she muttered and took him back to her office.

  It was an effort to get him onto the inspection table and lay him down. The weight of him drained her strength and she was breathing hard when she finally ducked out from under his arm. She carefully opened his armoured jacket and his shirt. He grimaced when she made him sit up again so she could remove them completely. They dropped to the floor at her feet.

  Several men in black rushed past her office. One stopped in the doorway. The intricate white logo emblazoned on the left side of his chest told her that he was a bio-engineer.

  She grabbed the scanner and ran it over Remi's torso.

  "Does Lieutenant Lyra IV need anything?” the man said.

  She shook her head. “I can handle him and his arm is fine."

  The man nodded and left. She pressed the button on the control panel and closed the door so she wouldn't be disturbed again. Running the scanner over Remi's legs revealed that he had a weapons fire wound on his left thigh and his right knee was badly damaged. There was a burn mark and hole in his right upper arm too, and several lacerations across his stomach. It was nothing she couldn't repair or aid towards recovery. His knee would be the hardest. All she could do for it was use the binder to bring the flesh together again and then bandage it. It was down to his body to heal that one.

  He winced and muttered something. She pressed a hand to his forehead. His skin was red hot and damp with sweat. He was becoming feverish. Picking up the injection gun, she loaded it with painkillers and then pressed it against the side of his arm. She fired it and he winced again before sleepily opening his eyes to look at her. Her fingers brushed his cheek and she smiled at him.

  "Rest,” she said and his eyes closed and then opened again, as though he was fighting the effect of the drug. “I won't let anything happen to you, Remi."

  His eyes closed. She checked his vitals on the large monitor above the head end of the inspection table to her left and then set to work. It was going to be a long night. She only hoped that the bio-engineering team would be able to save Jericho.

  She picked up the skin healing device and ran it over the cuts on his stomach and any other shallow wounds she could see. When they were closed, she carefully removed his trousers and boots, leaving him in only his underwear. She blushed when she remembered when they'd last been in this room together and then forced those thoughts out of her head. It wouldn't do to get distracted now. She had to focus so she could save him. One mistake could cost him his knee. If they had to replace it, it would be months before he would be allowed to return to duty. He'd miss his chance to enter the pilot academy. She knew how important that was to him, and how important it was that he entered there as just another soldier. No doubt his parents could get him in at any point in the course if he missed the start, but it wouldn't be what Remi wanted. He wanted to be treated as a normal soldier. Normal soldiers couldn't jump in mid-way through a course.

  Healing the smaller cuts on his legs, she paused briefly at his knee to check on it. The wound was deep enough to reveal bone. It needed to be healed quickly to avoid more blood loss or permanent damage. She placed the skin healer down and picked up the next device. The instant she ran the blue beam over his knee, the bone began to disappear, his flesh knitting back together. It wasn't a perfect solution, but the blood vessels and muscles would heal given a few weeks rest.

  She stifled a yawn as the hours drew on and she stood holding the device. It was slow work and she was beginning to tire. There were still another two wounds to fix. She glanced at them, checking they weren't bleeding, and then looked up at his face. It was ashen. The image of his body on the monitor said he was stable, but the sight of him so pale and drawn made her worry. The device in her hands beeped and she looked down to see that it had finished its job. She applied some salve to his knee and then bandaged it.

  Another hour and she'd healed the wound on his other leg and his upper arm. She placed the device down, dragged a stool over, and slumped onto it, ready to collapse.

  Her fingers smoothed the hair from his forehead, stroking it gently. The medication would keep him asleep for a few hours more yet and then she'd give him another dose. The hall outside her office had gone quiet. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Remi's lips, and then folded her arms on the table beside him and rested her head on them. She wanted to keep an eye on him but it was impossible to keep them open. Closing her eyes, she yawned and drifted away.

  * * * *

  Remi frowned and then internally grimaced when he tried to move and found he couldn't. He focused, feeling groggy and weak, and tried to figure out what was happening. Slowly, feeling in his hands and feet returned. Pain burned in his knee and his right arm. He swallowed it and blinked his eyes open. The lights were too bright. He squinted and then smiled inside when the fuzzy shape of Emmanuelle gradually came into focus.

  She leaned over him, running the healing device over something. His knee. Now that his head was clearing, he could feel the warm tickle of the red beam over his skin.

  It gradually turned from a warm tickle to a burning pain.

  He grimaced and flexed his fingers into fists.

  "Keep still,” she whispered, voice soothing and gentle as always. It warmed his heart to hear the concern and affection in it.

  She put the device down on the table near his feet and walked up to him. His eyes followed her every move and he frowned when she picked up an injection gun and loaded it with a clear liquid.

  "Don't knock me out again,” he croaked, throat parched and sore.

  She smiled and her grey eyes shone with it. Her fingers brushed his forehead and he closed his eyes at the calming touch.

  "It's only a painkiller,” she said and he flinched when she shot the injection into his neck.

  The whole world suddenly seemed more hazy and warm. He looked up at her, smiling dazedly as the heat rushed through him to fill every inch of his body. His head felt fuzzy. He felt like he had after their moment together.

  "Better?” she whispered close to his face, her soft breath fanning his skin.

  He nodded and then frowned when she disappeared, walking back down to his knee. She picked up the device and ran the red beam over his leg again. This time he didn't feel a thing.

  He watched her for a while, too dazed by the drug to think straight. When his head cleared, leaving only his body numb to pain, he remembered why he was here and what had happened.

  "Jericho?” he said, unable to say anything more for fear of his emotions getting the better of him.

  She looked at him with such worry that he could feel her anxiety reflected inside him.

  His heart clenched, fear crushing it as a whispered voice in his head said that Jericho was dead. He went to sit up, but she was too fast for him and her hands were pressing him back down onto the padded table before he could move an inch.

  "He's stable,” she said and relief bolted through him. It only lasted a
moment before his better sense said that stable didn't mean safe. “They're having to do more work."

  "How much?"

  She returned to his knee and continued with her work.

  She was quiet for a few minutes and then looked at him. “Over fifty percent of his original body has been lost. They've had to integrate him fully into a cybernetic body. It's not advanced. The muscles ... the body ... it's passable ... but..."

  He got the impression from her pale face and wandering eyes that she didn't want to say anything more. How bad was it? It had been hard enough for him to come to terms with his arm. How would Jericho cope with losing his entire body? What had he done to Jericho? He should've let him die. He'd been so blind to his friend's feelings. What if Jericho hated him for what he'd done?

  "But?” he said, needing to hear the extent of the damage.

  "His head is a different matter. It could be years before we have technology advanced enough to recapture how he'd looked. They've resorted to modifying one of the androids heads."

  He felt sick. The androids were barely advanced. Their bodies were bulky like Heavy Armour and their heads were almost robotic in appearance. They resembled the helmets he'd worn into battle to shield his face.

  "Iskara...” he whispered, unable to say anything more.

  Emmanuelle's fingers played softly against his cheek and he looked up at her, not hiding any of his feelings. She sighed and leaned over him, her body covering his as she held him. It comforted him more than anything could have at that moment. He raised heavy fuzzy arms to hold her and closed his eyes. She was warm against him, soft and soothing.

  "He won't hate you,” she whispered against his bare chest. “Jericho is strong. He'll be grateful that you did all you could to save him. It's not him I'm worried about."

  She drew back and looked into his eyes.

  "It's Ambra. I don't know how she'll take it."

  Would Jericho forgive him as easily as Emmanuelle thought he would? His friend had always envied his arm, saying how much he wanted cybernetic parts so he could be the best soldier there was. Would he say that still when he awoke to find he was more than half cybernetic?

  The look in Emmanuelle's eyes demanded he say something to allay her fears. She was worried about Ambra almost as much as she worried about him.

  With a lot of effort, he managed to cup her cheek and smiled. The drug made it hard to move and almost impossible to control the strength in his arm.

  "Ambra will be fine. She'll always love Jericho, regardless of what he looks like,” he said and she straightened. He caught her wrist to stop her from going back to her work. “Has she seen him?"

  She shook her head.

  "I want to be with her when she does."

  She nodded. “I'll tell them. She wanted to see you."

  She handed him a clear blue bottle and he realised it was water. He pushed himself up a little and gulped it down as she helped him hold it. The cold was soothing and refreshing.

  "Is she still outside?” he said when he was done and Emmanuelle took the empty container.

  She laughed and shook her head. “You've been asleep for over three days. I think she's with some of the other female soldiers today, on the hydroponics deck. The doctors suggested they talked."

  "Therapy, huh?” Remi said with a sigh, recalling how much he'd hated the months of therapy, both physical and psychological, that he'd been put through after losing his arm.

  She nodded again. “It's good for them to talk. Ambra needs female companionship right now. I can't imagine ... actually I can ... I can imagine how hard it has been for her."

  A tear streaked down her cheek. He reached out to her, wanting her to come to him and hating the fact that he couldn't go to her. She kept her distance, staring at the floor.

  "I was so scared, Remi,” she said and looked across at him. It broke his heart to see the tears in her eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you ... I couldn't stop thinking about you, fearing that the next call I received would tell me you'd died."

  He reached out again, less patient this time, flexing his fingers as best he could to make her come to him.

  "I said I'd fight for you and I'd come back to you. I wasn't planning on being dead when that happened."

  His words only made her cry harder. He cursed himself and pressed against the padded table, forcing himself up into a sitting position. His knee protested and ached, sending pain shooting up his leg.

  "Idiot!” she snapped and tried to push him back down.

  Ignoring her feeble attempts to stop him from getting up, he lowered his legs over the edge of the table and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms.

  "Shh,” he whispered into her hair as she sobbed against his chest, curled up with her hands pressed to it. He stroked her hair and held her close, making a silent promise to never let her go. “I said I'd come back ... although I'm a little broken."

  A giggle rose from the depths of his embrace.

  "I was fixing you,” she mumbled against his skin, warming it with her breath. She tried to wrestle free of his arms but he held her, unwilling to relinquish her now that he had her. It had taken a phenomenal amount of effort and had given him a lot of pain to sit up. He wasn't about to waste it all by letting her go so quickly.

  He kissed her hair and then her forehead, gradually working his way down to her mouth. She looked up at him and then closed her eyes when he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips barely touched, sending a warm shiver through him and filling his heart with tranquillity and happiness. On the planet, he'd feared that her feelings would have changed when he came back to her. The thought of that had scared him more than the Varkans.

  "If I were in Jericho's shoes,” he said, opening his eyes and meeting hers. “Would you still ... I mean ... if you do, I don't know if you do, but if you do ... would you still love me?"

  Her pink cheeks darkened and she dropped her gaze to his chest for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

  "I would ... it's the man you are that I fell in love with, not your appearance ... although...” Her blush deepened. “There's nothing wrong with your looks."

  He smiled at her, glad that she would love him regardless and thrilled that she'd admitted her feelings for him. She tried to make him lie down again. He refused, catching her hands in his and holding them.

  "How long am I going to be stuck with you?” he said to her hands.

  "About two weeks and then you'll be fine. You'll be healed before you start at the academy."

  He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles. Her hands were so small and delicate but they worked such wonders.

  "And how long do you want to be stuck with me?” he said with a smile and raised his eyes to meet hers. “Does forever sound alright?"

  Her cheeks blazed again but this time she didn't avert her eyes. She held his gaze, sure and steady.

  "Forever?” Emmanuelle said with a mock frown, stringing him along and teasing him. She pulled a thoughtful face. He frowned for real. The smile rose to her lips, breaking free of its restraints. “Forever sounds good ... but..."

  "But?” His frown didn't shift. His dark eyes grew a little blacker.

  "You're a prince of Lyra. I don't think your family would like you going out with a nurse."

  He shrugged and parted his legs. She rolled her eyes when he pulled her up against him, accidentally knocking his knee in the process and causing a grimace to compress his lips. He could pretend all he liked that he was fine but she knew that sitting as he was caused his knee pain.

  "I don't care what they think.” There was a beautiful honesty in his eyes. “No one stopped Balt from marrying his slave girl, or Sebastian from marrying the woman he ran away with, and no one will stop me—"

  Her eyes widened. He wasn't insinuating what she thought he was. A deep look into his eyes revealed that he was.

  "We barely know each other,” she said and placed her hands against his chest. It seemed like a valid excuse to take things a little
slower. Unfortunately, from what she'd heard, none of his brothers had taken things slow. Balt and Sebastian had married their wives barely a week after meeting them. Slow just wasn't their style.

  "Oh, I think we know each other pretty well,” he whispered, eyes full of meaning that his sultry smile backed up.

  She blushed again and cursed him for making her react that way all the time. So they'd had sex and she'd admitted that she had feelings for him, loved him no less, but that didn't mean they had to get married right this minute.

  "I ... need time,” she blurted out and he frowned. “Your training starts in barely a few weeks time. You need to focus on healing and your studies."

  His frown tightened.

  "I thought you—” he started and she cut him off by clamping her hand down over his mouth.

  "I do ... I really do ... but I wasn't expecting this."

  Hurt surfaced in his eyes.

  Her hearts ached. She had to say something to make him feel better and make him see that she did want to marry him, just not this second. They were still in the middle of a war and he couldn't throw his dream of becoming a pilot away like she knew he would if he married her. She wanted him to become one and follow in his brothers’ footsteps as he wanted to.

  "I'll marry you,” she said and his eyes brightened. She felt him smile against her palm. “I'll marry you when you can fly me, yourself, to Dazkara to tell my family."

  He pushed her hand away, dragged her up against his chest, and kissed her breathless.

  She took that as a yes.

  * * * *

  Remi paced nervously along the dock in front of the small fighter. He locked his hands behind his back and stared at the floor, slowly losing his patience as the anticipation and excitement ate away at him. She'd promised. She'd said that she'd be here. Where was she?

  He looked up when someone entered and turned to pace back along the dock when he saw it was two of his older brothers, Balt and Acer. Not Emmanuelle. Where was she? Wasn't she coming? She'd been at the graduation ceremony. He was a pilot now and he had a promise to keep. So did she. It had only taken him six months to qualify as a pilot, faster than anyone in his class. He'd graduated with the previous class.