Bhyr: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 3)

by Penelope Fletcher

  I curled over to kiss him.

  It was chaste, a dry scrape of parted lips.

  He shuddered, straining against me. His muscles were stone beneath my thighs, and a steely erection prodded my ass, making my sex clench.

  I pulled back to search his unusual eyes. ‘Did that hurt?’

  He bared his teeth in a grimace, then chuffed, spreading his legs to settle me against his hardness. ‘No.’

  It was a slow, careful thing, but the corner of his mouth widened into a lopsided smile.

  I recognised the different emotions attributed to his facial expressions now. They were different to human ones, but easy once you knew what features to track. His body language often confused me, but the one thing I could count on was his tone of voice, the clicking, thrumming noises he made.

  I fidgeted as his cock rubbed my clit through my clothes.

  Bhyr was gorgeous when he wasn’t scowling.

  The clean lines of his face gave him a majestic air and his pearl-coloured eyes were emotive, letting me see glimpses of the tempestuous mind beneath the calm. The raised ridges above them acted as eyebrows to frame his face and cast his eyelids and angled cheekbones into shadow. Even his skull was a beautiful shape. Streamlined and braided with thick cornrows of cartilage enrobed in lustrous blue flesh.

  At a glance, he remained terrifying. Different. But now, I could see past it. React to it as a woman who wanted a man.

  ‘Good,’ I said, husky. ‘That’s good.’ I hesitated, fingers stroking the tense cords lining his neck. It was becoming my favourite way to touch him. ‘I’m going to keep this up unless you tell me no.’ Simple kisses were a safe way to explore our mutual attraction. Better than the sadistic kink we’d strayed into. ‘I know sexual intimacy is new to you. I don’t want you to feel forced into anything.’

  For the sake of my continued sanity, I shoved the physical exchanges that happened when I wore the Keeping into a cerebral vault. Then I buried them in mental cement. I’d unpack and process the complex mess during quieter times. Hopefully with access to a qualified mental health professional.

  Hands gripping my ass as if it were a lifeline, Bhyr peered into my eyes. ‘Nothing would have stopped me from taking you. I do not regret it.’

  Appalled, I flicked his ear and snorted when his eyes rounded to take up half of his face. ‘Every time I’m sure you can’t say anything worse, you do. Choices matter, Bhyr. Consent matters. You might have failed to ask for mine, but I won’t turn around and do the same to you.’ I thought of how to explain the concept in terms he’d appreciate. ‘Kidnapping people is wrong. Touching in this way without permission is wrong.’ I gave him a stern look. ‘I need you to learn that.’

  ‘While I hear you, I do not believe it was wrong to take you. You are not strong enough to impose your will over mine.’

  ‘Because you’re three times my size and trained to decimate small armies, Bhyr.’

  ‘Then you understand my reasoning. You are a smaller female. I am a larger male.’

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I rocked back to cross my arms under my breasts.

  I understood him, but what he said was near impossible for me to accept.

  I was a modern woman from a culture where coming up against his type of machismo was rare. He was a traditional male from a planet where coming across my kind of defiance was all but extinct.

  It was a steep learning curve for the both of us.

  I need patience.

  ‘If nature designed your species’ females to choose their mates,’ he continued in logical tones, ‘they would exhibit physical traits that allowed them to repel attracted males.’

  From a primal Aztekan point of view, he had a valid argument. From a human perspective, one I was not willing to overlook, he was mistaken.

  ‘I possess a thinking mind,’ I said. ‘I’m not a lower life form with simplistic urges to reproduce, nor an empty vessel for you to use and discard.’

  He gave me a disbelieving, searching look that verged on suspicious. Showing he could read between the lines, Bhyr said with outright incredulity, ‘Are you saying you will not spawn my son?’

  ‘I could want a child,’ I said forming the sentence as limited and with as many qualifiers as I could manage.

  ‘You will breed for me. It is your female purpose.’

  I gawped, then shelved that battle for another day. ‘Let’s focus on this. Don’t you want my happiness?’

  ‘What does this have to do with that?’ His baffled expression revealed the eternal pursuit of happiness as a defining characteristic of a life worth living was not a universal ideal but a human one.

  Armed with this knowledge, I hunted for a better enticement. ‘Hmm.’ I straightened, recalling what he’d said before. ‘Don’t you want me to want to stay with you?’

  He stilled, conflicted.

  ‘Well,’ I said in a rush, ‘for that to happen, I need you to understand I have a consciousness. It feels violated when you do things to me without first asking my permission.’

  His mouth flattened, and his gaze turned inward. ‘But my needs and wants matter as I can enforce them.’

  Words failed me.

  The softer skin between his exoskeleton paled. He petted my lower back, and I softened the rigid line of my spine. ‘I will not pretend to understand you, that will take time, but I accept I hurt you in a human way. I will try not to again. You have proven yourself my intellectual equal. You are persuasive enough that I revised my stance on Horde Law. I will see about changing it, so other males do not hurt human females the same way.’

  I opened my mouth argue my case further.

  He pressed a thumb claw against my lips. ‘I am not finished.’ His hand moved to cradle my chin. ‘You bring joy to me. I have known the darkness of Destruction, but you show me the light of Creation.’ He nuzzled my temple. ‘These changes overwhelm me, but you are worth it. I am keeping you. Stay with me always.’

  ‘I don’t know how to untangle what I feel for you. This situation is… I don’t know what I should feel for you.’

  He glowered. ‘Then do not think on it anymore. More mouth mating instead.’

  It was terrible to enable him, so I hid behind a glare. ‘We’ll work on this.’

  He gave a clicking huff I took as his agreement.

  I pressed my mouth to his.

  20

  Bhyr

  Indira investigated his nest. It was not the frazzled inspection she’d given during her first rotation in his home.

  Overwhelmed by the drastic change to her existence, survival had claimed her focus, not possessions.

  Bhyr grimaced.

  His treatment of her contributed to that period of distress. True, his behaviour reflected the traditional techniques Aztekan males used to tame their breeders, but he’d known the moment he’d laid eyes on his Indira there was more to her–more to the humans–than he’d expected.

  That was past.

  Now he called her by name and had removed the Keeping as she wished, his female rediscovered her environment. Her varied expressions and awe-filled gasps riveted him. Her thirst for knowledge and interest in technology grew by the moment.

  It was enchanting.

  Aztekan females had little hand in the technological advancements on Vøtkyr during their rule. Yet they had taken immense pleasure in reaping the rewards of the hard work. What if they had invested their help to ensure the wellbeing of their species?

  Would history have unfolded better for them?

  ‘Ooh, books.’

  Indira’s voice drew him from his darker thoughts.

  Naked, he rose from where he reclined under pelts saturated in the delicious scent of her musk to join her.

  She sent him a beseeching look, which he returned with one granting permission.

  Indira slid the slimmest volume from the shelf. The author had inlaid its embossed cover with a greenish blue alloy.

  ‘I loved to read when I was a kid. Always lugging a
book around.’ She cradled the book in the crook of her elbow. ‘I spared less time for it when I got older. Too busy. Burned out from reading proposals and briefs.’ She leafed through the thin pages. ‘I can’t read it, but it looks beautiful.’

  ‘You read Earth text as we do?’ He moved a finger up the page, right to left.

  ‘Ah, no, not English. I watched you use the holosphere, remember?’ She glanced at him, shy. ‘There are languages read on the vertical, anti-clockwise, so it’s not too foreign a concept to grasp both at once.’

  ‘You learned many human languages?’

  ‘No. English is my native tongue. Hindi and Portuguese came much later. A little Tamil.’ She smiled, eyes hazy with a memory. ‘My grandfather taught me Hindi. He grew upset I only knew my father’s language and not my mother’s. Not that I knew much of it. It took me a while to appreciate my heritage. I was born in my father’s country, you see. By the time learning more interested me, my parents were dead, and, well, life got in the way.’ She traced a finger across the faded ink on the back cover. With a sigh, she closed the cover and returned the book to its place. ‘Thanks for letting me snoop.’ She patted the shelf. ‘It’ll be amazing to learn with these.’

  He hesitated to nod.

  Picking up on his unease, she aimed a gentle smile his way. ‘I’ll be careful.’

  ‘I trust you.’

  ‘Do you?’ she asked.

  ‘I have done much you consider loathsome.’ He motioned between them. ‘That you are with me like this speaks to the strength of your character.’ Moving with care, testing her responses, he stroked her hair. ‘The more I trust you, the more you accept your place here. With me.’

  ‘I see.’ She swept her hair over her shoulder, twisting it around her fist. ‘So, where are you off to now?’

  His head turned and canted in question.

  ‘We get intimate, and you get twitchy and guilt-ridden. Then you find a reason to escape my presence.’ With a closed-lipped smile, she hitched a shoulder. ‘No judgement. This thing between us is a lot to process. To be honest, I could use an escape too. Get out and about before I develop cabin fever. So? Can I come?’

  Perturbed by the evidence of such keen observational skill, he scratched his throat. ‘How is it an escape from your presence if you go with me?’

  She set her feet apart and lifted her chin, scowling.

  ‘Fine.’ He had planned to visit his herds and ponder how to approach his Horde over their treatment of the human breeders. Her presence, while a distraction, would be welcome. He skimmed over her attire. ‘Not like that.’

  In storage, buried under layers of musty furs and discarded tools, he dug out a round waterskin. With it came a plain knife made of tuskbeast antler and a matching pair of drawstring pouches made of fangbeast leather. He tied the pouches and waterskin to her belt, distributing the weight as best he could to avoid disturbing her gait. He showed her how to wrap and carry the knife at her hip. Into the pouches he dropped hot rock chips, so she might warm her hands if they grew too cold. Five palm lengths of gut with a hooked bone needle, in case her clothing broke away from the nest, also went inside. Lastly, a handful of dried gourd flesh to satiate her human cravings.

  Small hands patted over everything. ‘Useful.’ She shot him a shrewd look. ‘These were yours, weren’t they?’

  ‘I made them at my father’s knee. I was ten solars.’

  She admired the stitching on the larger pouch. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever made anything with my hands. Spoilt desi that I am. I’m impressed.’ She eyed him, speculative. ‘How old are you, Bhyr?’

  He cast his mind back.

  It had been a long time since he’d last noted such an arbitrary thing. ‘Eighty solars.’

  Indira startled, gaze flying to his. ‘Pardon me?’

  ‘This upsets you?’

  ‘A solar is longer than an Earth year. You could be my grandfather.’ She gawked. ‘How long will you live for?’

  ‘Many males enjoy four hundred solars.’

  ‘Oh, that’s something.’ She fiddled with the worn hilt of the knife. ‘I have seventy Earth years left. If I’m lucky.’

  He frowned. ‘Closer to three hundred solars, if the calculations of the healing pod were correct.’

  The pod had made her less fragile. It had saved her life. An unaltered human would have been crushed during the avalanche or died from the cold long before he had gotten her back to the warmth of the nest.

  Indira stopped moving.

  Her mouth opened and closed. ‘What?’ The word escaped her lips short and tight. ‘What did you say?’

  Bhyr felt the blood rush to the corners of his eyes, turning them dark. ‘This upsets you more. Why?’

  ‘Humans don’t live… did you…? When I was in that… you can’t… how did you even…? You know what, no.’ Her palms lifted as if to hold the future at bay. She shook herself free of her shock in the same manner a fangbeast would flap its sodden ear feathers. ‘How long do your females live for?’

  ‘Less.’ The reasons why were not something he could discuss with her.

  He studied her strange human features, noting the outer corners of her eyes often crinkled when she spoke.

  Now they were wide and fixed.

  ‘They once lived longer,’ he added as she resisted letting the matter go.

  ‘Uh, huh?’ She screwed up her face. ‘Because the lifespan of a species increases and decreases for no apparent reason on Vøtkyr.’

  ‘There are reasons.’ Her negative response to her biological improvements aggravated him. ‘The healing pod altered mutations inherited from your ancient ancestors. You may now live to the full potential of your life span.’ He paused. ‘You’re welcome.’

  She laughed in a flat, breathless way that made him uneasy. ‘Never mind that. You didn’t ask to do this to me. I do not have the emotional range to process this. Nor do I have access to a professional who could help me. I suppose I’ll deal with it later. Along with the rest of the stress and trauma.’

  Sarcasm, he thought.

  ‘At times, I fail to understand you,’ he muttered.

  ‘You fail to understand me?’ She huffed. ‘Tell me, Bhyr, are you ready to talk about why you get evasive whenever I mention Aztekan females?’

  He straightened. ‘No.’

  ‘Will you ever be ready?’

  He forced himself not to react, ignored the heavy pressure on his chest. ‘I want to share this morning with you. Not speak of these things.’

  After a tense beat, she nodded and clapped to break the atmosphere. ‘Okay then.’ Her hands went to her hips. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Up the mountain to the higher steppes. I want you to see my herds.’ He took her closer to the clouds where the air was thinner and the suns hotter. On the second steppe was his tuskbeast herd.

  Indira leaned against the short fence. The animals grazed in the restricted area. She then peered down at the distant goodbeast herd on the first steppe. ‘These differ from your mounts,’ she noted.

  ‘They are native to Vøtkyr. Tuskbeast do not domesticate well, so we imported goodbeast long ago for that purpose. I breed all my native herd beasts for conservation. They are free to be as they are.’

  ‘But you keep them penned?’

  ‘Older generations of the Horde hunted them near extinction. Wild creatures did the rest. I dislike keeping them here, but it keeps them safe. One day, this herd will be strong. Releasing them will mean a stabilisation in their numbers despite natural deaths that cull the sick and the weak. I tried to rehabilitate a herd too soon before. It did not end well.’

  She nibbled her fuller bottom lip. ‘This is why you hated killing the bull, isn’t it? You said it was rare?’

  ‘Very.’ An echo of the loss bloomed in his chest. ‘My ancestors hunted them for their hides. We covet the colours. I made their right to roam free without interference from the Horde part of our Law. Their numbers are climbing, but the death of two is a blo
w.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she whispered.

  He nodded.

  ‘It’s beautiful here, Bhyr. We have wild terrain on Earth, even though it seems as if we’ve spread to every inch of the globe. But there is a special feel to this planet.’ She sniffed. ‘The air is so pure, it hurts.’

  ‘Earth is not as overpopulated as Zoi.’

  Humans were a young species. The space debris orbiting Earth and the pollution in the atmosphere was a testament to it. They would discover how to live in harmony with their planet or destroy it.

  There was abundant life scattered across the universe, but not all species of higher intellect survived their technological awakening.

  It was not an uncommon phenomenon.

  Bhyr’s own people suffered near cataclysmic failures before they learned moderation was key.

  ‘Where’s that?’ she asked. ‘Zoi?’

  ‘It is the Baxnonian homeworld.’

  ‘Baxnonian?’

  ‘Another bipedal species compatible with humanity. Zoi Quay is their main city and home to the Intergalactic Alliance.’

  Her mouth opened.

  He preempted her question. ‘The Intergalactic Alliance is a union of advanced sentient species across the universe led by an elected council. They police sectors of space, register planets, and act as enforcement when called upon.’

  ‘Enforcement.’ Complicated thoughts crossed Indira’s face. ‘Didn’t they protest your invasion of Earth?’

  ‘No.’ They had not known of it. ‘I will hear from them soon.’ The Rä and Verak would open a complaint on Earth’s behalf, he was sure.

  ‘Will they sanction you?’

  His jaw clenched. ‘I am prepared to deal with the consequences of my actions.’

  ‘If you need a character witness, I’d be happy to weigh in.’ Her words were slow. ‘I won’t lie, or anything, but I’ll help if I can.’ She sensed his discomfort, and lightened her tone. ‘So, Zoi Quay?’

  ‘Overcrowding is a problem.’ The tightness in his throat eased. ‘They built Paniki, a station that orbits the planet and acts as an overflow for the populace. They also use it as a tourist attraction.’