Dark Cure

  Dark Cure

  Cynthia Sax

  A warrior seeking forever faces a medic living in the moment.

  Gisella, the Refuge’s medic, is dedicated to her role. She doesn’t have the space in her lifespan for love, a mate, or children. Healing is her entire focus.

  But she’s also a female in her prime. She has needs, wants, cravings…especially for a scarred, long-haired barbarian warrior temporarily residing in the settlement. One fierce, soul-blasting, passion-filled encounter is all she is willing to give him before she returns to her duties.

  Oghul, a Chamele Warlord’s Second-In-Command, has waited his entire lifespan to find his gerel, the being fated to be his. He’s thrilled to discover she wants him as savagely as he yearns for her.

  His little human medic appeals to his primitive possessive side. Greatly. He wants to stamp his ownership all over her bountiful curves, take her back to his home planet, claim his fiery female permanently.

  When Carinae E’s solitary sun rises, two determined beings with very different desires find their lifespans entwined. Their battle for emotional supremacy will span systems and alter destinies.

  The universe will never be the same.

  * * *

  Dark Cure is a STANDALONE SciFi Romance set in a gritty, dark world.

  Dark Cure

  Published by Cynthia Sax at Smashwords

  Copyright 2018 Cynthia Sax

  Ebook design by Mark's Ebook Formatting

  Cover Design by Amanda Kelsey at Razzle Dazzle Design

  Discover more books by Cynthia Sax at her website

  www.CynthiaSax.com

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First edition: November 2018

  For more information contact Cynthia Sax at

  www.CynthiaSax.com

  Table of 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

  Other Books by Cynthia Sax

  Releasing Rage - Excerpt

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  Healing was Gisella’s sole purpose in the universe.

  Determined not to repeat the mistakes her mother had made, she banished any other distractions from her lifespan, suppressing her yearnings for a male, for children, for love.

  She focused on her role as a medic, on those important duties.

  As the lead medic within the Refuge, Carinae E’s largest settlement, her responsibilities included more than saving the lifespans of those she personally tended. She also had to train the next generation of healers.

  Her current protégé, Pono, was a Tau Cetian who had lost everything when the Humanoid Alliance blew up her planet. After discovering the girl was like her, all alone in the universe, Gisella had offered to mentor her. Pono had gripped that opportunity with both hands and now bubbled over with enthusiasm.

  “If I work two shifts a planet rotation like you do, Lead Medic, I’ll progress even quicker.” The girl chattered as she walked beside Gisella, the two of them navigating the corridors of the medic bay. “Medic Shaushka made that suggestion.”

  “Medic Shaushka is the second best medic on Carinae E.” Gisella was the most experienced healer. “Listen to her.”

  The girl’s head bobbed. “She could have her own medic bay if she wanted that role. Other settlements have approached her and she turned them down.”

  “Her mate is a merchant in the Refuge.” Gisella stifled a sigh.

  Like Gisella’s mother, the other medic was choosing love over her dreams, putting a male first. She suspected the female would later regret her decision, would become just as bitter and disillusioned at the end of her lifespan.

  Which was a shame as Medic Shaushka was a skilled healer.

  Gisella stopped in front of a chamber. “What’s the status of our next patient?” She looked at her protégé.

  “He’s an Ahkian male.” Pono consulted her private viewscreen. “His hand has been severed. Source of trauma is unknown. He was given a prolonger and a pain inhibitor by the receiving medic.”

  They were treating another severed hand. Gisella shook her head. Since a certain group of barbarians landed on the planet, the number of reattachments she’d performed had tripled.

  “He might be violent.” The Refuge catered to outlaws and outcasts, was home to the some of the most vicious beings in the universe. “Be on your guard.”

  She slid one hand into her jacket’s front pocket, curled her fingers around the tiny gun hidden there, and placed her other palm on the control panel. The doors opened. She strode into the space. Her protégé followed her, locking the door behind them.

  A male with greasy dark-blue hair and lighter-blue skin turned toward them, a gun in his right hand. Strips of dirty cloth were wrapped around his left wrist. “Finally, a fuckin’ medic arrives.” He holstered his weapon. “I’ve been waiting here for an entire fuckin’ shift.” His eyes were bright yellow.

  Shit. He was a Mox-X addict. They were extremely volatile, the drug altering their brains.

  Gisella stepped to the side, positioning herself protectively in front of her protégé. “You’ve been waiting here for mere moments.” That information had been recorded in his file. “Sit on the sleeping support.”

  “I don’t have time to fuckin’ sit.” He glanced at the now-closed door. “I need my hand reattached now.”

  That body part had been set on a horizontal support. He might be blasted out of his skull on drugs but he’d had the foresight to retrieve his hand.

  “I’m not treating you until you sit.” A seated patient was less dangerous.

  The male huffed yet did as he was told, plunking his ass on the sleeping support. “I’m seated.” He glared at her.

  “Then I can treat you.” She unwrapped his wrist. “Was the object that severed your hand clean?”

  That question was asked for her listening protégé’s benefit. The cloth utilized to stop the bleeding was filthy. The wound would be infected.

  “One of those Chamele bastards with their fuckin’ claws attacked me.” Her patient confirmed her suspicions. “I didn’t see him coming.”

  The damn barbarians had fought with yet another resident, creating more work for her and her team. She pressed her lips together.

  “It was none of his fuckin’ business.” The Ahkian spewed hatred. “He had no—”

  The doors behind Gisella opened. Only one being in the Refuge had the ability to unlock them. She straightened.

  “The female you decided was your fuckin’ business died.” Kralj’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The Ruler of the settlement had powers she’d never witnessed in another being.

  �
�Fuck.” Her patient reached for his gun. “You found me.”

  Before the Ahkian could draw his weapon, an invisible force propelled him across the chamber. He slammed against the wall, the impact cracking the surface, yet he didn’t fall.

  The male hung high in the air, his face twisted in terror, his arms and legs flailing. No sound came from his open mouth.

  “He’s a patient.” She faced Kralj. The medic bay was her domain.

  “He’s mine.” A shadow concealed the Ruler’s scarred face. “He killed within my walls.”

  Dita, Kralj’s mate, stood behind the all-powerful male, her lithe body clad in black, daggers and guns decorating that skintight garment. She had been an assassin before she met the male. Now she was merely an extension of the Ruler.

  A blast of air hit Gisella. She fought to remain upright, battered by the manufactured wind.

  “She is my mate.” Kralj’s voice boomed. “You will respect her.”

  Or she would die, was the implication. The Ruler didn’t tolerate any perceived insult.

  Pono whimpered. The girl was sensibly scared of the male.

  Gisella was frightened also. Any rational being would be. But she didn’t show it. “I respect you.”

  Kralj’s tremendous abilities demanded deference. Only a being lacking intelligence would fail to show it.

  Her gaze lifted to the male restrained high above the floor. The Ahkian might be a fool but he was also her patient.

  “Some patients don’t deserve to live.” Kralj addressed her unspoken concerns. “The female he attacked was younger than your trainee.”

  “I wasn’t notified a young female needed healing.” Being the lead medic, she oversaw all incoming patients.

  “He carved her to pieces.” The Ruler stated that without emotion. “By the time Oghul, the leader of the Chameles, rescued her, there wasn’t enough of her to heal. She died moments later.”

  The female should still have been brought to the medic bay. Gisella frowned. She might have been able to save her.

  “You couldn’t have done anything.” That was Kralj’s judgment.

  It wasn’t hers.

  “The male is mine.” The Ruler’s tone prevented further discussion. “Leave the chamber.”

  He would rip her patient to pieces now, drink his blood, eat his flesh. Kralj was a modified humanoid. Some called him a monster. He devoured beings who broke his laws.

  Gisella hustled her protégé out of the chamber. She didn’t want the girl to witness the Ahkian’s gruesome fate.

  “Sanitize yourself.” She gave Pono a cleaning cloth, utilized another one on herself, wiping the grime and bacteria off her hands, tidying her easily cleaned white medic jacket.

  “Would we have healed the Ahkian, knowing what he did to the girl?” The medic-in-training shook with shock. The Ruler had that effect on beings.

  “It isn’t our task to judge our patients.” Most of the inhabitants of the Refuge had killed or maimed others. “We heal them. That’s our—”

  “Medic.” A male voice raised, originating from the entrance. “We need a medic. Now.”

  “Everyone always needs a medic now,” Pono muttered.

  “Part of our role is evaluating if they are correct.” Gisella squared her shoulders and strode toward the main medic bay doors.

  Two Palavian males held a third one upright. The other beings in the space, waiting for updates on loved ones, gave them a wide berth. Her staff formed a defensive line in front of the trio.

  That caution was wise. Palavians could be…unpredictable. The four-armed beings embraced violence and lawlessness, caused problems wherever they went.

  She hid her dismay at facing three of them under a mask of indifference.

  “Be careful,” she murmured to her protégé.

  “Medic,” the tallest male bellowed, his ugly countenance contorted with fury-edged concern.

  “We’re here.” She moved closer, staying out of reach of his arms. “Pono, give me your verbal assessment of the patient.”

  A quick glance had told her the male wasn’t in need of urgent care. She’d allow the medic-in-training to relay that information.

  Assessing incoming patients was an important task to master.

  The girl swallowed hard. “His chest is rising and falling at regular intervals. He appears to be breathing well on his own.” She stepped toward him. “His coloring matches the other males’.”

  That was challenging to determine. All three of them were disgustingly dirty, their flight suits covered with grime. A rancid smell radiated from them. Dried blood decorated the blade of the axe strapped to the tall one’s waist.

  “There are no signs of trauma.” Pono drifted nearer to their patient and bent over to look at his downturned face. “He isn’t conscious and—”

  “Enough yammering.” The tall Palavian lunged toward the girl.

  Fuck. Gisella pushed Pono aside. The girl squeaked, scurrying out of range.

  The male targeted Gisella instead, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to him. Pain coursed through her. Her bones bent, threatening to break.

  “Let me go.” She searched through a pocket of her jacket with her free hand.

  “My brother needs healing.” The male’s spittle speckled her face, his horrid breath making her light-headed. “Now.” He shook her.

  Her fingers closed around her gun. She extracted it, pressed the muzzle to his groin, and tapped the trigger.

  The Palavian released a high-pitched animal noise. His hands spasmed, allowing her to escape him. He fell to the tiled floor, clutching his balls, his form gyrating with pain. Foam formed at his mouth. His screeching continued.

  “You ugly excuse for a female.” The still-standing Palavian glared at her. “No one hurts my brother.”

  She suspected he would have attacked her if he wasn’t struggling solo under the weight of his unconscious sibling.

  “The pain is temporary.” She met his gaze directly. “He’ll recover within a planet rotation.” Until then, he would be in extreme agony. “No one.” Her voice raised. She wanted everyone to hear this refresher of the rules. “Touches any medic within the Refuge.”

  “That isn’t one of the Ruler’s laws.” The short Palavian predictably challenged her statement.

  Kralj had very few laws – the main one being there was no killing within the settlement.

  The Ahkian had discovered the consequences of breaking that rule. The remaining pieces of the male would be impaled on a stake and displayed outside the Refuge as a warning to visitors.

  The medic bay was Gisella’s terrain, however, and the medics were her beings to protect. She had different rules and enforced them in different ways.

  “Not touching medics is one of my laws.” She lifted the gun she’d modified. “Touch a medic once and you’ll be zapped…as your brother discovered.”

  That male sobbed like an infant. Tears streamed down his face, leaving trails of clean skin on his cheeks. Urine pooled around his body.

  “Touch a medic twice and you’ll have no balls when you recover.” She had never delivered that reprimand. The first zap was an effective deterrent. “Touch a medic a third time and you’ll plead for death.”

  She wouldn’t kill the male. That would break the laws of the Refuge. But she was a skilled medic. She knew many ways to inflict lasting pain on a being.

  “Are we clear?” She lifted her eyebrows.

  The remaining Palavian glanced at his brother on the floor, at her gun, and then at her. “You wouldn’t be so tough without your weapon.”

  “I dissect brains for fun.” Her tone was dry. “I’m tough without a gun. The weapon merely ensures I don’t hurt you more than I should.” She sometimes was overzealous in defending herself. “Your brother needs a medic’s help. Either allow him to get that assistance or leave with him. I have other patients to see.”

  She hoped he’d make the right choice. His brother did require healing.

  “I want
another medic to treat my brother.” The Palavian looked around him. His gaze settled on Pono.

  “He’ll be treated by me or by no one at all.” She wouldn’t assign a dangerous patient to one of her less-experienced team members. “I’m the lead medic. If you want my superior, speak to Kralj. Or yell for him, if that’s your preference.” She shrugged. “He’s currently within the medic bay.”

  The Palavian’s face paled. Everyone was scared of the Ruler. “You can treat Egor.” He begrudgingly conceded that point, as though treating his brother was an honor.

  It wouldn’t be. She eyed the unconscious male, anticipating a world of difficulties. “Carry him to chamber 3.” She waved in that direction.

  The Palavian hauled his brother along the corridor. Only when she was safely behind him did she glance at her protégé. The girl was uncharacteristically subdued, didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Stay out of his reach.” Gisella told her. Her wrist ached. She didn’t want to repeat that experience. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Pono winced. Being an intelligent female, she knew she was in trouble.

  Gisella followed the males into the assigned space. It was well-equipped. Machines lined the walls. She should have everything she needed to restore her patient to full health.

  The Palavian plopped his brother onto the sleeping support, rolled him over until he faced upward. “Heal him.” He crossed all four of his arms.

  “What was he doing when he lost consciousness?” She required more information.

  “That doesn’t matter.” The male was determined to be a pain in the ass.

  “It matters if you want your brother to regain consciousness.” She could be as obstinate as he was. “If you want him to die…”

  “If he dies, you die.” The Palavian leaned forward.

  She raised the gun.

  He backed away from her. “He wasn’t doing anything. The three of us were drinking in the main beverage outlet. Egor was in a bad mood. That mood got worse the more he drank. He passed out, fell off his chair. We thought he had too much fermented beverage. A shift passed and he didn’t wake up.”

  The brothers had waited a shift before seeking help. She twisted her lips. They were idiots.