Pursued: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Kalixian Warriors Book 10)

by Presley Hall

  The comms unit crackles a moment later, and I hear a familiar voice come over the line.

  “Commander Tordax here,” the voice says sharply. “Your code checks out, but I want to verify again. You’re claiming to be the Alpha Force warrior Zatir, returning home? We were given intelligence that everyone on your mission was killed by Orkun forces.”

  A stab of pain pierces my heart. It’s hard to hear it said out loud, blunt and matter-of-fact like that, as if it’s old history. For them, with so many battles between now and then, I suppose it is. But to me, it still feels as if it was yesterday. But I push the emotions down, keeping my voice cool and casual as I answer.

  “Well, nearly everyone died in that attack, Commander,” I say as lightly as I can. “But by the grace of the gods, I survived.”

  “It’s been three years, Zatir. What happened that you’ve been gone for so long?” Tordax doesn’t sound suspicious now, just concerned. I suppose I can understand that. No one wants a member of their army missing in action for years.

  “I’ve been trying to return since then, Commander,” I tell him, leaning back in my captain’s seat. “But along the way, I kept finding opportunities to go up against the Orkun and do damage to the deshing empire they’ve tried to create in this galaxy. And I couldn’t very well turn that down, now could I? I’ve been sabotaging their allies and skirmishing along their supply lines the whole way home. Took me three years, but I did some considerable damage. And now that you’ve finally crippled them for good, well, I supposed it was time to return home.”

  I keep a light-hearted tone as I say the last bit, wanting Tordax to know I’m joking, at least about them finally having taken out the main Orkun base. I was grateful beyond words when I got word of that. I’ve missed Kalix deeply.

  “Well, then, welcome home, Zatir.” There’s a touch of humor in Tordax’s deep voice, but I can hear the relief in it as well. He follows up with directions on where to land in the docking bay, then finishes with instructions to come to the palace as soon as I’ve landed. “King Khrelan will want to see you,” he informs me.

  I glance at the comms unit curiously as Tordax signs off.

  King Khrelan?

  When I left, Khrelan was still a prince, since he was unmated—and with the death of our women at the hands of the Orkun, he was expected to always remain so.

  “What’s changed, I wonder?” I mutter to myself as I bring the ship down, setting it in the space that Tordax directed me to.

  When I step off onto the docking bay, I tilt my chin up, breathing in the fresh air of Kalix for the first time in over three years—and then open my eyes to see two of the Kalixian dock workers staring at my ship, confusion written plainly in their faces.

  Ah. Of course.

  I know what my ship looks like. Over the years, I’ve repaired her largely on my own, making modifications to make her faster and more nimble, better at getting in and out of skirmishes quickly. She looks more like a pirate craft than a Kalixian war ship now, old and patched together, some places more worse for wear than others. But I’m very attached to her, and I glare at the two men as fiercely as I can.

  “Don’t look at her like that. You’ll hurt her feelings.” I flip them each a token. “And make sure no one else does, either.”

  I feel their gazes on me as I stride away, and I sigh. I’ve never been one to mind attention, but as a lost Kalixian presumed dead and now returned, I expect that I’m about to get more of it than I’d like. It just reminds me of the many warriors who ought to be disembarking their own ships alongside me right now.

  But they’re not here. And they never will be.

  I’m not sure why I was the sole survivor of the Orkun attack. Why the gods allowed me to live when so many others died. But I’ve tried to make my life worth it over the past few years.

  When I arrive at the palace, I’m immediately escorted to the throne room. Tordax must have contacted Khrelan soon after speaking with me, and the king has clearly left instructions, because there are two guards waiting for me at the doors who quickly direct me down to the grand hall. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, but the familiarity of it still warms me, just like everything else I’ve passed in the city.

  It’s good to be home.

  The doors open, and I step into the throne room. As I walk down the long, dark carpet inlaid with gold, I’m surprised to see someone sitting beside Khrelan in a slightly shorter throne. My shock is multiplied when I get closer and realize that the female sitting next to him is a Terran woman. Questions race through my mind even as I drop down on one knee in obeisance.

  My surprise must be evident on my face, because Khrelan addresses it almost immediately.

  “Welcome home, Zatir,” he says. “I’m interested to hear what you’ve been doing all these years. But first, I want to introduce my queen, Emma.”

  “Queen Emma.” I incline my head respectfully, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as startled as I feel.

  “A group of Terran women abducted by the Orkun as tribute brides were rescued nearly a year ago,” Khrelan says. “To our surprise, mate bonds began to form between our warriors and these women, beginning on the ship where they were rescued. The first was between a Terran woman named Rose and Commander Tordax. After they returned, my own mate bond revealed itself, and I was at last given my queen.”

  It takes only an instant for me to realize what this could mean for our people, and a thrill of happiness runs through me. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that sort of rush of hope, and I’m glad of it. When I left Kalix, it seemed that our species was doomed to die out, all of our females killed by the virus that the Orkun unleashed on us. Now, it seems that we’ve been given a new hope for a future, thanks to these women and the mate bonds that have formed with them.

  “I haven’t seen the rest of these Terran women.” I smile at them both, then bow my head to the queen. “But I feel certain you must have been granted the most beautiful one of them all.”

  Emma blushes a little at my words, and Khrelan looks over at her, taking her hand. It’s clear from the way that he gazes at her that she is truly his mate. I remember seeing my father look at my mother with that same kind of adoration when I was a child.

  “Indeed,” Khrelan says, returning his gaze to me. “And if the gods favor you, perhaps you’ll be granted your own mate.”

  “Perhaps.” I nod noncommittally. To be honest, it’s the furthest thing from my mind. I’m just grateful to be back on Kalix again. “The gods have favored me so far, my king. It’s good to be home. And good to hear that the Orkun are closer than ever to complete and utter defeat.”

  “I’m sure you’ll hear the tale of how it happened many times,” he says with a laugh. “Tycran and his own mate from among the Terran women were responsible for that.”

  I look up sharply, my brows furrowing. “Tycran?”

  I remember him as the most dreadfully boring of us all, sworn to never enjoy any bodily pleasure—including women, good food, strong drink, and anything else that might make his existence remotely bearable. The idea of Tycran being mated is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in years. But Khrelan is completely serious.

  “Indeed.” A glimmer of humor dances in his blue eyes, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing I am, although he’s too polite and well-mannered to say it out loud. Always the diplomat, our prince—and now our king. “But tell me more about what you’ve been doing these past years, Zatir,” he goes on. “What took you so long to come back home?”

  “With the rest of my squadron gone, I intended to return to you at once, my king,” I tell him, inclining my head again respectfully. “But along the way, I met others who were willing to supply me with intelligence that offered me a chance to strike back at the Orkun in a new way, one that only a lone warrior could hope to achieve. I saw the possibility to take out high-value targets, destroy vessels carrying supplies, and slow down their weapons manufacturing. I was able to slip in and out
easily, attacking supply runs where I could, and I did some considerable damage to them.” I pause. “I know that I had no official orders to do so. But I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I wanted to make certain that the loss of my men was not in vain.”

  I fall silent and wait, wondering if there will be censure from Khrelan for what I’ve done. But instead, he seems pleased.

  “It’s good to have you back,” he says warmly. “The queen and I are pleased to welcome you home. You have done well in the fight against the Orkun.” He pauses, a rare smile crossing his face as he looks down at me. “Tomorrow night, we will hold a feast in your honor, to celebrate your return.”

  3

  Nadia

  Pirouette, pirouette, pointe, pirouette, arabesque, jete, jete—

  I’m never as happy as when I’m in the little studio that Lucy set up for her pole classes, practicing ballet.

  There’s nothing on Kalix like leotards or tutus or even pointe shoes, but I modified a pair of wide-legged loose linen pants into above-the-knees culottes to dance in, pairing them with a top that wraps over my breasts and is tied at my waist. For pointe shoes, I found a pair of leather flats and reinforced them, stiffening them and layering them with materials that Lucy helped me find. It took three pairs of ruined shoes and hours of frustration and tears before I finally managed to make them work, and I can’t stay on pointe long in them. But it’s enough to at least let me feel some connection to the world that I once hoped to excel in.

  The door opens as I finish another sequence, humming aloud to Swan Lake as I move through the exercises.

  “Don’t mind me,” Lucy calls out, walking into the small room. “I just forgot something, that’s all.”

  I pause, smiling at her as I come down to rest flat-footed. She glances over at me with obvious admiration.

  “I always wished I could do ballet,” she says, pushing her long blonde hair out of her face. “I never really had the body type for it though.” She grimaces, laughing. “Boobs get in the way, you know? I was much more suited to pole. But I always loved the grace of ballet.”

  “Pole dancing is impressive in its own way,” I tell her, sinking to the floor to start cooling down and stretching. “You need real upper body strength to do all of that. Some of the moves those girls do—”

  “I can’t jump across the room and land on my toes, though!” Lucy exclaims, laughing. “You know,” she adds, “you should come to one of my pole classes. I bet you’d love it, and it would be really fun to have you there. We could try to incorporate a few ballet moves into it too, and have you show the other girls some of the things you’ve learned. I know we’d all love that.”

  I flush immediately, glancing away. My heart jumps a little at the invitation—I like the idea, even if the thought of pole dancing or trying to teach anyone ballet steps makes me nervous. It feels like something I should try, like an opportunity for growth and change. But as always…

  “My sister probably wouldn’t really approve of that,” I mumble, hating the words as they come out of my mouth. It makes me feel like a child. But I don’t want to upset Brielle, either. She tries so hard to take care of me, and she always has. I don’t want to seem ungrateful. “Thanks anyway.”

  Lucy gives me a knowing look, and I can tell she understands at least a little of what’s going on without my having to say it.

  “I’m not pushing you to do anything,” she says gently. “But just keep in mind that you can be your own woman, Nadia. You don’t always have to listen to what your sister says. You can choose for yourself.”

  I know deep down that her words are true. Of course I can choose for myself. I’m twenty years old, an adult. But I also know that Brielle is just looking out for me. And sometimes I wonder if it’s not wiser to do what she suggests. Maybe she really does know better. It’s hard to trust my own judgement after everything that happened with Kevin.

  But I don’t say any of that to Lucy. I like the vivacious blonde woman, and we get along, but I don’t know her that well. It’s too complicated to explain to someone who doesn’t know everything about me and my sister, and I’m not prepared to go into my entire backstory. I don’t even know if she’d want to hear it.

  “There’s a feast at the palace tomorrow night to celebrate Zatir’s return,” Lucy continues, moving smoothly on to a new topic as if she can sense my discomfort. “Tycran told me a little about him. I guess after his men were killed in battle, he became this sort of lone-wolf, space-pirate kind of warrior, fighting single-handedly against the Orkun’s allies and damaging their trade routes over the past three years.”

  My eyebrows shoot up, my jaw falling open a little. “Really? Wow.”

  “Yup.” Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she grins. “Pretty incredible, right? Anyway, you and Brielle should drop by the celebration! It’ll be fun. Everyone is going to be there, and the food alone is a good enough reason to attend an event at the palace. It’s amazing. Will you come?”

  “Um… maybe. I’ll see if Brielle wants to go,” I promise, smiling weakly back at her.

  But I have a sinking feeling I already know what my sister is going to say.

  * * *

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Brielle leans against the countertop in the tiny kitchen in our pod, her arms crossed over her chest as she shakes her head.

  I have to struggle not to sigh loudly as frustration bubbles up inside me at her very predictable response.

  She’s just trying to take care of you. She’s just trying to take care of you, I repeat in my head.

  “Why not?” I challenge, a little surprised at myself for asking at all. But I remember what Lucy said, that I can do what I want. That I don’t always have to listen to Brielle. I don’t want to cause problems in our little household, so I don’t think just running off to the ball, so to speak, is a good idea. Maybe I can convince her, though.

  My sister scrunches up her nose. We have similar features, although she’s blonde and tan while I have dark hair and pale skin. But our blue eyes are almost the exact same shade. “Everyone’s going to be there,” she says. “It’s going to be loud. Overwhelming. Probably a lot of drinking—”

  “It’s at the palace, Brielle. I think everyone will be pretty respectful, considering the king and queen will be there. I’m sure it’ll be very tame.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never been to one of these feasts.”

  “How do you know it won’t be?” I say just as quickly, crossing my own arms over my chest. “Neither have you!”

  Brielle pauses, considering me. I know she’s surprised that I’m arguing back at all.

  “Look,” I say in my most conciliatory tone, “I just want to go for a little while. Think about it—the palace. Where the king and queen will be. When would we have ever gotten to go to something like this on Earth? We live in a new world. We should try to explore it, just a little. And if it gets rowdy and you think we should go home, I’ll go. I promise. No arguments.”

  She eyes me. “No arguments?”

  “Scout’s honor.” I grin at her.

  “You were never in the Scouts,” she points out, rolling her eyes as she turns back to the small cooking surface where she’s making some sort of hot sandwich for our lunch. “I get it, though. You want to see the palace and go to the ball. Fine. But we’re coming home at midnight, Cinderella. If not before.” She shakes a utensil at me playfully, although I can see the seriousness in her eyes, the worry. Always the worry.

  “We’re in a strange place, Nadia,” she says quietly as she flips the sandwich to cook the other side.

  It looks better than any grilled cheese we ever had at home. The Kalixian bread is thick and crusty, and the meat on the sandwich is a far cry from deli meat, fresh and ragged at the edges, plainly cut from some kind of roast. The cheese started out as crumbles, also fresh, and I feel my mouth start to water a little. I’ll happily stay here forever, if only because the food is so much better tha
n sliced deli cheese and macaroni.

  “Which is why we should get to know it better.” I accept the sandwich she hands to me, sitting down at the small table as Brielle starts to assemble her own. “We’re not going back, right? To Earth?”

  “I don’t know why we would go back,” Brielle says dryly. “The house is gone by now, rented to someone else. I’m sure my credit score is screwed from that. My job probably assumes I’m dead. And it’s not like you—”

  “—had a job. Just gigs. You don’t have to remind me.” I push idly at my plate, my appetite gone.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” My sister shakes her head, turning to face me as her food sizzles behind her. “I just meant that you didn’t have a job, or school, or anything like that left behind. You had your modeling gigs, and—”

  “—and they don’t want me. Not now that I…” Trailing off, I gesture at myself and the scars left behind from the accident.

  “You can’t see those when you’re clothed.” She glances at me. “You could still model, if we went back.”

  “I don’t want to go back,” I say firmly. “Do you?”

  She sighs. “Not really, no. I think we’re safer here, honestly. I don’t know why we were abducted, but I know that if we went back, we’d be starting from zero. I don’t necessarily trust all of this completely, but we’re in a better position here than we would be if we went back to Earth. So if you’re okay with staying, I think we’re fine here.”

  I nod, taking a small bite of my sandwich. It still feels weird to eat whatever I want. When I was striving to be a ballerina and modeling on the side, I had to stick to an incredibly strict diet. Eating something like an entire hearty sandwich for lunch feels almost like a guilty pleasure.