Claimed by an Alien Warrior

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Holy shit,” Zoey said, unable to look away even after it was sealed. Because of the overlapping scales, she couldn’t even see the seams where it had split open.

  “Your parts aren’t exactly normal-looking to me, either,” he said defensively. He’d propped himself on his elbows to meet her gaze.

  Zoey looked down at her thighs, fearful she’d find green goo oozing out of her like in one of the sci-fi romances books she’d read. There was an awful lot of seed running down her legs, but thankfully it looked like it could have come from any human male; no stringy, neon green globs to be seen.

  “How do your females look?” she asked, only barely stopping her imagination from picturing some kind of Venus flytrap vagina opening wide for his lily-cock.

  “More…discreet.”

  She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, her eyebrows falling low. “What does that mean?”

  His brow furrowed with a blend of confusion and mild alarm; even though he was a different species, it seemed he, too, was hardwired to recognize the danger when a woman used that tone.

  “Female aligarii have a slit. It is in the same place, but it is essentially hidden. Obviously, for your kind, things are a bit more…exposed.”

  Zoey pressed her thighs together and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly very self-conscious.

  “No,” he said firmly as he sat up, making no effort to mask his nudity. His upper hands pulled her arms away from her breasts, and his lower hands slid between her thighs, forcing them apart. He cupped her pelvis, sliding a finger into her sex.

  Zoey gasped, abandoning her brief struggle. She grasped his upper biceps to steady herself.

  “This is beautiful to me,” he said. One of his hands closed over her breast. “This is beautiful.” He touched her hips, her stomach, her legs; her hair, neck and face. “All of this is beautiful, Zoey. In part because it is different. Because it is you.”

  Her eyes strung with tears. Her first instinct was to mistrust his words, but she knew he was being honest. She felt his sincerity. There was no disgust in his eyes, no regret. He was touching her and seeing her. In the light.

  “You see me,” she said quietly.

  “I have since that first night.” He removed his hand from between her thighs — not without reluctance — and slid both of his lower hands around her, cupping her backside to pull her close. “I will always see you, kun’ia.”

  Zoey searched his eyes, all of them. When she blinked, her tears spilled, trailing down her cheeks, but she smiled despite them. “You called me that before. What does that word mean?”

  He gently brushed way her tears with his thumb. “It is just something to call a person you care about.”

  Zoey reached up and placed her hands on his jaw. “Then I also see you, kun’ia.”

  Ren returned the smile, and the reflection in his eyes took on a more tender, sentimental cast. He closed them as he dipped his head down, pressing his forehead to hers. “It is late. We should rest, little human.”

  “Considering this little human just had four orgasms, I think so.” Zoey grinned.

  “Orgasm… Is that another word for climax?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you only had four?”

  Zoey tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes in response to the mischievous tone in his voice.

  “Surely we can do better,” he suggested.

  “Um…”

  Holy hell, what had she gotten herself into? From virtually no sex to being sexed to death.

  Heh. What a way to go.

  She raked her gaze over Rendash again, appreciating him in the lamplight. All things considered, she couldn’t let a small chance of death-by-sex deter her from having more of him — lily penis and all.

  “Could I…be on top?” she asked. She trailed a finger down his torso, following the valleys between his ridges of muscle, and traced a circle around the tip of his erection with her fingertip. It jerked.

  Grasping her hips, he lay back and drew her atop him. Zoey released a startled cry and laughed. Her laughter swiftly became a moan of pleasure as he simultaneously thrust upward and pulled her down onto his cock.

  “For as long as you want, kun’ia,” he said.

  Rendash watched Zoey sleep, much as he had during their first night together. So much had changed since then, though only four days had passed. She’d kept her back to him and had lain as far away from him as possible without tumbling out of the bed that first night, whereas now she lay facing him, wrapped in his arms by her own choice. Much more than their sleeping positions had changed, though, and those changes had come long before they’d finally succumbed to mutual desire.

  She seemed so at peace now, so happy, without worry or conflict on her face. Her breathing was easy, her body relaxed.

  This was how he wanted to remember her — content and beautiful, alien but familiar. Everything he’d never known he wanted. His, if only for a short while.

  He gently brushed rogue locks of hair from her face. He’d grown accustomed to the oddly full, relatively soft facial features of humans during his captivity, but Zoey’s was the first and only such face in which he saw beauty — beauty as deep in her as his nyros were in him, beauty that permeated all of her, inside and out.

  Why should he only have her for a brief time? Why should he leave her behind to become little more than a bright, fleeting highlight in an otherwise troubled life?

  As far as Ren was concerned, he’d already earned his peace, had already earned his choice. All that remained was the formality of returning to Algar to declare his intent. Tradition did not dictate that he was required to take a mate. Nor did it dictate that his mate had to be aligarii. The only thing stopping him from bringing Zoey along was his adherence to the nature of the traditions, his devotion to the unspoken duty that lay beneath them — to carry on the aligarii race, to continue to keep the Khorzar strong with his bloodline.

  What did all that matter now? His Umen’rak was gone, his life was in danger, and he’d made a connection with another being beyond anything he could’ve imagined possible. His relationship with Zoey was precious. Too precious to throw away if there were any chance to maintain it — or even better, any chance to let it grow.

  I can take her with me.

  The thought crackled through him like a bolt of lightning, arcing across his every cell. He’d dismissed the notion when it had presented itself before, had been unable to view it beyond the lens of his experience and the culture that had raised him.

  It was a thing that had not been done. But that didn’t mean it could not be done.

  So few aekhora survived to the point of earning their freedom; would the Halvari truly deny him, when he wouldn’t, in truth, be violating the traditions?

  He could take her with him, and thus bring his happiness home rather than return alone and seek happiness blindly, knowing that any life he might make on Algar without Zoey would never compare to what he shared with her now. He could take her with him and hold on to this contentment. He could take her with him and grow more content.

  Ren trailed the pads of his fingers over her cheek. Zoey smiled and nuzzled her face against his hand.

  Would she want to go? Would she want to leave her world, leave her people, leave everything she knew behind?

  He understood how it felt to be on an alien world. Understood the sense of loss, loneliness, wrongness. Even with all his training and experience, it affected him. How would she cope? Ren’s presence had already disrupted so much of her life, but she’d told him she had nothing left, no one left. Did she have any reason to remain on Earth?

  “When the time comes, kun’ia, I hope you choose to accompany me,” he whispered.

  Until that time, he would not trouble her with worrying over it, would not burden her with the weight of the unknown. Zoey deserved nothing but happiness. He hoped that, one day soon, he’d be able to make that happiness something lasting. He hoped he could grant her the comfort, stability, and
love for which she’d always longed.

  Wasn’t that what she’d truly meant when she spoke of wanting a home?

  Drawing in another deep breath to appreciate their mingled scents, Ren finally closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him, keeping his kun’ia — his mate — secure in his arms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Stantz stepped out of the SUV and straightened his coat. He walked directly to his agents, not bothering to glance at the state troopers gathered fifty feet away around their white vehicles. He’d seen the displeasure and confusion on their faces as he pulled up. He felt their glares on his back even now. During his career, he’d dealt with their type often enough to know what they were thinking — fuck these feds for coming onto our turf, for taking over our investigation, for forcing us out.

  National Security was a great catchall justification for seizing investigations, but it never set anyone at ease.

  Stantz didn’t have time to set anyone at ease.

  The agent in charge of the scene, Calder, led Stantz along a well-trodden path through snow and scrub to the taped-off area with the body.

  Crouching, Stantz examined the remains. His stomach clenched and churned.

  “Wounds are consistent with those inflicted on our agents during the incident,” Calder said. “All cauterized.”

  Stantz rose. His hands were already cold, and it felt like his dry skin would split along his knuckles any second, but he didn’t slip them into his pockets or reach for his gloves. The discomfort gave him a good reason to focus on the task at hand. On the mutilated corpse.

  “What about the other injuries?”

  “Animals. Been out here for a few days, at least.”

  This was what Stantz had unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. This savagery, this hatred, this…splendor.

  Only the narrow-minded and shortsighted would view the Fox’s escape as a setback. Stantz understood what the director could not — this wasn’t a failure, but an unexpected, unprecedented opportunity. Specimen Ten had finally shown them its capabilities. Now they knew those tiny machines could do so much more than accelerate healing.

  Now they knew the alien’s nanotechnology could be used as a weapon.

  “You’ve already begun the cleanup?” Stantz asked.

  “Yes, sir. The coroner’s report will detail a mundane stabbing.”

  “Good. Keep in close contact.”

  Stantz walked back toward his vehicle. The cluster of state troopers in their brown coats frowned at him. Offering no response, he climbed into the backseat of the SUV and opened his computer. He touched the button on his ear piece.

  “MCC, this is the Huntsman,” he said, pouring half a roll of antacids into his mouth.

  Damn the director and his foolish protocols.

  “Hawk acknowledges, Huntsman,” Fairborough replied through the comms.

  “Mark my location. Find a spot nearby to move the MCC. The Fox is heading east.”

  “Copy that.” Fairborough hesitated. “Sir, we may have found something relevant to the hunt.”

  Stantz shifted the remaining chunks of chalky antacid to one side of his mouth. “Go.”

  “One of the women Branson stopped on the night of the incident was reported missing. Zoey Weston.”

  The woman’s file appeared on Stantz’s screen; she was the curvy girl Branson had been hostile with.

  “And?”

  “Her car was found abandoned on I-70 Tuesday morning, about ten miles west of your current location.”

  Stantz ground his teeth together. “We might have another body out here.”

  “Maybe, sir. But look at these records.”

  The computer screen flashed as a list appeared. It took Stantz a moment to realize he was looking at a bank statement.

  “One hundred and twelve dollars in a big-and-tall store in Vegas on Monday.” Stantz’s heart rate increased. “Strange for a girl listed as five-foot-seven on her license. And she rented a room in Green River on Monday night.”

  He dumped a few more antacid tablets into his hand and slammed them into his open mouth before pulling up the satellite map.

  “Start driving for Green River,” he said to the driver. “Hawk, I need you to get the story out about Weston. We need people to be aware she’s missing. Would be a shame if she doesn’t turn up.”

  “Copy that, Huntsman.”

  “Get her picture out to all field agents and send the description of our murder victim’s registered vehicle along with it. Matthew Johnson, independent contractor out of Elko, Nevada. We’re shifting our search area into eastern Utah and western Colorado. We’ll find this woman, and then we’ll bag our Fox.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Movement disturbed Rendash’s slumber. Beside him, Zoey delicately shifted his arms off her, removing herself from his hold. He listened as the bedding whispered over her bare skin but didn’t lift his head and open his eyes until she was padding across the floor.

  He watched the sway of her backside appreciatively as she walked to the corner bathroom, allowing his gaze to roam from the top of her dark hair all the way down to her feet, admiring every curve along the way.

  Over the last two days, he’d thoroughly studied her body, had learned how to provide her with as much pleasure as possible. She’d done the same for him. His cock hardened with the memory of her explorations; her tongue had slid down his abdomen, trailing lower and lower until it finally flowed over the ridges of his shaft. The sight of her pink lips wrapped around him as she sucked had combined with the feel of her wicked tongue to create the most exquisite torture of his life.

  She switched on the corner light and manipulated the controls outside the shower stall. The water came on, falling like a gentle waterfall from overhead. She delayed, likely allowing the water time to heat. Her body’s angle offered him a profile view of her breast and its pink nipple.

  Ren licked his lips. Rather than satisfy his hunger, their initial joining had only confirmed that his desire for Zoey was insatiable.

  She pulled open the stall door and slipped into the shower. The condensation clinging to the glass obscured his view of her, leaving only a shadowy figure; somehow, that only increased his excitement.

  The faint, grayish light of early dawn filled the room, not bright enough to dispel the shadows but enough to see by. Ren slid out of bed, stretched his limbs, and approached the large windows running across the wall. The snowfall had finally ceased the night before. Everything outside was blanketed in unbroken white, but there was no more falling from the sky.

  He couldn’t know if the break would last, couldn’t know if they’d be able to leave or not, but it was the first time the weather had relented since they’d entered what Zoey called the Rocky Mountains — which seemed to him a redundant name, as most mountains were, by default, made of rock. Such specifications only needed to be made when an object deviated from the normal composition.

  He shook off the tangential thought, recognizing it as a subconscious attempt to stray from the truth of the situation — they’d have to resume their journey to his ship.

  That was a bittersweet realization. Getting back on the road just meant they’d be a little closer to his ship, to him escaping from a planet that caused him so much loss and pain. It also meant they’d be a little closer to her potentially choosing to stay on Earth. She was the only good part of his time here and had become the best part of his entire life.

  Was it wrong for him to want more time without having to face that looming uncertainty? This had been a long delay, but it had been worth the time.

  Rendash swung his gaze toward the shower. While it lasted, he intended to use this time to the fullest. He strode to the shower, tugged the door open, and ducked inside.

  The hot water and steamy air was comforting, far closer to the climate of his youth than anything he’d encountered on Earth thus far. He hoped to return to that climate, to those humid jungles, with the female standing before him.

  He watch
ed water stream over her skin, followed its path down her back, over the curve of her ass, and along her thighs. She stood beneath the falling water, hands over her face, and gave no indication that she knew he’d joined her.

  For several moments, he contented himself with admiring her. That she didn’t know her own beauty seemed a crime to him. That she hadn’t been told of it by her prior mates every day only attested to the dishonor and blindness of the men she’d known.

  Ren stepped up behind her. He settled his lower hands on her hips and moved his upper hands around her to cup her breasts.

  She started, bumping into him with a sharp intake of breath.

  “I didn’t know you were in here,” she said, tipping her head back onto his shoulder to look up at him.

  “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” he asked, taking each of her nipples between a finger and thumb.

  “No.” Zoey closed her eyes and leaned against him, pressing her breasts into his hands. “Not at all,” she continued breathlessly.

  Slowly, he slid one of his lower hands around the front of her hip, fingertips brushing over the patch of hair at her pelvis. “You’ve woken early today.”

  “I couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

  Ren dipped his head, touching his lips to her ear as he lowered his voice. “A failure on my part. If you are restless, I must remedy the situation and assure your relaxation.”

  She released a low moan as he slid his fingers into her welcoming heat and stroked her clit. She lifted an arm, slipping it around his head to clutch at his crest, and undulated her hips against his hand.

  “Does this feel good, kun’ia?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she rasped. “Don’t stop.”

  Zoey didn’t need to beg; he’d come to crave her reactions so much that he wouldn’t stop until she was done — if he stopped at all. He drew her backside against him, pressing his throbbing cock along her spine, and continued to caress her. The gyration of her hips created sweet pressure along his shaft. Soon, his own breath was ragged.