Stolen by the Zandian: An Alien Warrior Romance

by Renee Rose

  I hoped to obtain her as a side job; it seemed a good way to satisfy the emptiness deep in my core. It’s absolutely not that my main job isn’t–wasn’t–perfectly satisfactory. As I told Gabin, Zandians are grateful for any job they are given. It’s just…I want to be a contribution to Zandia, and I’ve lost my touch with training.

  My wrist holo flickers a third time, and I close the picture on my tablet.

  “Rhob.” My voice is gruff as I connect with my peer. “Meet me at the dome in ten minutes. We’ll start the information download.”

  I grab my other tablet, the work one that contains flight sim data and training module information.

  As I leave my domicile and stride over to the flight area, I keep envisioning the human’s striking blue eyes. The set of her chin. The strength in her shoulders. Those frail human fingers, the ones that are half the size of Zandian hands. And although I know I’d be taking her for the good of Zandia, not as a mate, part of my body can’t help but react to her beauty.

  She’s for Zandia, I remind myself. Not for me. Don’t get too excited.

  I should petition the king for permission to go off and secure her for Zandia. But considering what happened during this planet rotation, I doubt he would trust me.

  So… I could go without leave. Not inform any being of my plan. I can use a borrowed Zandian crystal to attempt to buy the female. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission in this case.

  Yes. I have to make this work. It’s the best chance to regain my honor and prove that I’m worthy of serving my planet.

  Chapter 2

  Kailani

  The room swims around me. The scent of sweat—both human and alien—fills my nostrils assaulting my already churning stomach. My nails cut into the heels of my bound hands as I stumble across the polished stone floor of the trade center.

  I’ve heard of this place. It’s a high-end epicenter for gambling, auctions—especially of things illegal to trade on other planets—and distribution. The Caretaker and Overseer haven’t given me the medicine to take away the migraine yet. It’s part of controlling me. They’re not going to risk my escape while I’m in transport.

  I can barely see—the light feels too harsh. It cuts into my brain like a laser beam. They bring me to a roped off area and put me up on a marble dais.

  The caretaker strips off my clothing and pulls my bound wrists over my head, where he attaches them to a hook that’s too high. It pulls me up to my tiptoes.

  He squeezes one of my lifted breasts with a grunt of approval. “They’ll like that,” he mutters. The Kraa weren’t interested in me sexually, so this assault is the first of its kind, but if I don’t get out of here, it won’t be the last. But then, I won’t be sold as a sex slave. No, that would be a blessing after the life I’ve had. I’ll be sold as a medical oddity for examination and dissection.

  He spins me around to examine my backside. He slaps my ass a few times, not punitively, more like he’s watching it jiggle.

  “Please, Master. My medicine,” I beg. I’m not even pretending. I really would grovel at his feet for even a portion of the medicine I need to take away the headache.

  He takes out the little vial, uncorks it, and dribbles two drops—half the dosage—into my mouth.

  I moan, my body trembling for it. I hang on my bound wrists and close my eyes, waiting for it to take effect.

  “How much for the human?” I hear a deep voice ask.

  “Oh, she’ll fetch more than all the slaves in here put together,” the overseer boasts. “She’s been genetically modified. She’s stronger and more durable than most humans. Capable of working five times as hard as the average human slave. Immune to illness, too.”

  “Wouldn’t a slave-master wish his slave to be weak? Easier to control?” the male asks. There’s a deceptively casual note to his accented words that make me crack my lids to take a peek.

  He’s not Ocretion or Kraa. I don’t know what species he is—I’ve never seen one like him. He’s larger than the Kraa with purple skin, stubby horns on the top of his head, and broad shoulders. He carries a sword at his belt. He’s some kind of warrior.

  “Not for your kind,” the caretaker scoffs. “Besides, she requires a dose of medicine twice a day. That need keeps her exceedingly obedient.”

  I grind my teeth at his nasty smile.

  The white-clad warrior scans me with seeming disinterest, yet for some reason, I have the feeling it’s an act.

  “May I approach her?” he asks. There’s a regal quality to his voice, like he’s used to being in command.

  Oddly, I find it exciting. Or maybe it’s just that the medicine’s starting to work, and I can see him more clearly now. He’s beautiful—square jaw, smooth, hairless skin, warm brown eyes.

  I expect him to squeeze my breast, as the caretaker did, but instead he puts a knuckle under my chin and nudges it up, turning my face from side to side to inspect me. “She’s in need of this medicine now?”

  My heart picks up speed that he noticed. I haven’t had masters who noticed or cared about such things before, except to torture me. And maybe that’s all this male would want to do, as well, but for some reason, I find myself wondering what it would be like to have such a strong, virile male as my master.

  Would he use my body for things other than hard labor?

  Would he be gentle? Take care of my needs the way no one has before?

  But that’s ridiculous.

  I’m not sticking around to be some horned alien’s slave.

  I’m going to escape. Get to Jesel where they say humans live free.

  “She’s been given a half-dose, so she presents well,” The overseer says.

  “Why not a full dose?” the purple warrior asks. He runs a thumb across my lower lip.

  Surprised by the unexpectedly pleasurable touch, I part my lips and meet his gaze.

  “We’ve found keeping her needy ensures her good behavior,” the caretaker says silkily.

  “She appears sickly,” the male snaps. “How do I know you’re not actually trying to get rid of an ailing human with limited abilities?”

  “We have holo vids showing her in action.” The caretaker flips open a small device. On it, I see myself lifting, leaping.

  “Could be faked.” The warrior narrows his eyes. “She can barely stand.”

  The overseer strides over, the wart on his cleft nose twitching. “Give her the rest of it.” He jerks a hand at the caretaker, who shrugs and pulls out the vial.

  Well. This is going better than expected. I would celebrate more if I didn’t suspect the horned male had just manipulated them into this. Which leads me to wonder what his angle is.

  I swivel toward the caretaker, walking on my tippy toes to try to get closer. My left nipple brushes against the purple-skinned male’s white tunic. He doesn’t move back. His eyes dip to my nipples, which tighten into stiff buds, as if preening under his gaze.

  His hand lightly settles on my waist, and his horns thicken and lean in my direction.

  If I weren’t so desperate to get the rest of my dosage, I’d savor the fact that the attraction between us is mutual.

  Not that I care about such things since I’m about to escape.

  I open my mouth like a baby pet, straining at my bonds, so I don’t miss a single drop. The caretaker dribbles it onto my tongue, and my throat works as I swallow.

  “You were pretty desperate for that, weren’t you, little human?” The horned stranger’s thoughtful gaze rests on my face. He appears almost fascinated by me. For the first time in my life, I wonder, briefly, if I’m nice to look at.

  All these years, I was bred and modified to be stronger and more resilient to damage. My looks weren’t part of the Kraa enhancements. But the way the warrior looks at me, it’s almost as if he finds me… attractive.

  He raises his voice to speak to the overseer but doesn’t turn away from me. “And how expensive is this medicine of hers? That’s certainly a factor to consider, isn’t
it?” He’s bargaining for me like I’m nothing more than the object I’ve always been to my masters, yet his steady regard takes away the sting of it.

  Like he really sees me.

  Me, not the enhancements. Not what I can do or what I’m useful for.

  “She’ll be sold with a lunar cycle’s supply. After that, the medicine can be purchased from us, or for a higher price, the formulation and ingredients can be purchased for her new owner to make the elixir himself.”

  The warrior scoffs. “I asked the price.”

  “Fifty stein for a lunar cycle’s supply.”

  Fifty stein.

  Sweet Mother Earth, how will I survive? I won’t be able to pay that. Nor will I be able to simply order it from the Kraa after I run away. They’d hunt me down. And the sentence for runaway slaves in this galaxy is death.

  I’ll just have to learn to live with the headaches. But even that thought brings back a stabbing pain behind my eyes and makes my stomach lurch.

  “Where’s this one month supply you say she’ll be sold with?” the warrior asks.

  Yes, where? I swear, it’s like he’s trying to help me escape. I watch the overseer’s gaze dart toward the table and under it, I spy the padded case they carry the vials of my medicine in.

  One lunar cycle’s supply. It will have to do. Maybe I can just take micro-doses and get used to the migraines. So now I just have to crawl this wall to unhook my hands—that should be easy—then grab the medicine and run.

  It’s not great, as far as plans go, but I’ll figure out the rest as I go. A distraction is what I really need. Something to give me a head start.

  An amplified announcement comes from the stage. The auction’s about to begin.

  “Step away from her,” the overseer snaps, spying the warrior’s hand still resting on my waist. He slides it down to the top of my buttocks before he slowly pulls it away, his fingers trailing my skin like he doesn’t want to stop touching me.

  Goosebumps lift on my arms, and my skin tingles where his hand was. I register the loss of his nearness like a tiny panic. But that doesn’t make sense.

  The only panic I should have is over getting myself out of this place. He steps back out of the cordoned off area and folds his arms across his massive chest, subtly keeping me in his visual field while angling his body to the stage.

  The caretaker lifts my roped wrists off the hook and clamps a hand around my upper arm, pinching my flesh as he roughly pulls me toward the stage. Sweet Mother Earth, this is probably my only chance.

  I half-expect the purple, horned warrior to follow and bid on me. Not that I’m disappointed he doesn’t. It’s not like I’m going to walk out of here with a new master. Not if I can help it.

  We stand behind the dais, waiting in the queue to go on stage. I look over involuntarily, searching for the purple warrior, but he’s gone.

  And that’s when I act. I spin and whirl, using all the fighting techniques they stupidly taught me, and in seconds I’m free. And that’s when the artificial lights cut out.

  Khrys

  After cutting the power to the lights, I grab the medical case from under the Kraa’s table. Zandians see better in the dark than most species, but I can’t bank on the fact that I’m the only one who can see.

  Still, I can’t locate the female. She’s not with her Kraa master. That part doesn’t surprise me. She had the determined look of a warrior about to wage war. I was eighty percent sure she’d try to escape.

  That’s why I cut the lights—to provide a distraction, if not the means.

  I also made sure she received her full dosage of medicine. Those Kraa bastards had abused the poor human—that much was obvious. If I had time, I’d make them suffer for their treatment of her, but I don’t.

  I need to find the superhuman and convince her she’s coming with me.

  Which shouldn’t be too hard considering I have the medicine she requires.

  There. I spy a dark form moving along the wall in a decidedly unhuman way.

  Fascinating.

  She’s making her way right toward her Kraa masters—returning for the medicine, no doubt.

  I find my way to her and grasp one of her ankles, giving it a sharp tug, so she falls into my arms. She smells sweet, like sugarfruit and the Zandian starshine. She struggles against my hold, striking me in the face with the heel of her hand.

  “I have the medicine,” I tell her.

  She goes still.

  I flip her across my shoulder, so she’s easier to carry. “You’re leaving with me.”

  Chapter 3

  Kailani

  His words stun me into silence. I barely register the touch of his powerful hand on the bare skin of my legs, the way my body presses into his more powerful one. He moves deliberately through the darkness. Around us, shouts of confusion and command ring out.

  “Who are you?” My whisper is hoarse. I twist my torso to look around. “Put me down.”

  He adjusts his grip on my body and slaps my naked ass once with his free hand—hard. “No, my marvelous little warrior. You’re mine now.”

  I’ve been damaged and abused beyond imagination by my Kraa owners, but the spank from this purple warrior is different. It sends tingles into my belly and causes my nipples to harden. So does his deep velvety voice. I somehow latch onto the marvelous little warrior part rather than his assertion of ownership—the part I should be worried about.

  I block those thoughts and focus. “I’ll pay you to set me free. We can come to an arrangement.” Working on instinct, I slide my hand down his back and cup his buttock. I’ve never been used as a pleasure slave, but the movement is almost natural. My fingers linger. Stars, his body is nice to the touch.

  His laugh is quick. “That we will. And I set the terms, little warrior.” He regrips me again and gives me another firm spank that goes straight to my feminine parts. “Don’t test me.”

  I blink once, and the remnants of my headache disappear. My mind races. Once we reach the exit of the auction, I will attack him using my quick punch power, steal my medicine and whatever goods he has. Or even better—I’ll take his craft. I’ve never been trained to fly one, but I’ve had brain tweaks that make me learn ten times faster than most humans. He’s so strong, but I need to defeat him—it’s my only chance at freedom.

  “Veck.” His voice is low and urgent. His body stiffens up. “They’re blocking the exit.”

  “Bigger problem.” My eyes, quickly acclimated to the dark, have found a more urgent threat. “Behind us, fifty paces, closing fast. Two Ocretions with laser guns.” I do the math. “They’ll be on us in ten seconds. They have night vision headsets.”

  My body fills with adrenaline. “Put me down—I’ve trained for this.”

  His laugh is harsh. “You? A human slave, taught to fight?”

  “Yes. But we don’t have time to discuss it.” I snap his words back at him. Early on, the Kraa put me through holo attack simulations to test out my reflexes. “We fight together, or we both die.”

  For a painfully long moment, he hesitates. Then I’m on my feet, head spinning as blood rushes down to my limbs.

  “Go,” he snaps. “Now.”

  I don’t need encouragement. I crouch and leap, turning the side of my foot, so the heel bone smashes the nose of the closer Ocretion. I immediately repeat the move; this time, his facial flesh is already pulpy, and my foot comes away slick with blood. His scream of pain and fear soothes my ragged nerves, and he drops in the dark, a useless sack of flesh. The second one is easier to fell; his surprise makes him stand still and stare while I crack his trachea.

  “Mine are down. I’m ready,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with adrenaline.

  At my back, the purple warrior grunts. The clang of steel on metal tells me he’s unsheathed his wicked dagger from his waist and is fighting with a guard; the horrified squeals are a welcome notification that his attackers have been vanquished.

  He breathes hard as I dart to his side. “Come.”
He grabs my arm. “On my signal, we run.”

  I don’t argue because equipment overhead groans and whines, and then the lights flicker. The power is back.

  “Go!” He tugs me, and suddenly we’re racing, hand in hand towards the door. He’s fast—so swift, I can barely keep up, so I focus and summon my burst powers, my surplus energy stores that allow me to push my human body harder than any being should.

  “Veck, you’re unbelievable,” he mutters—I think. I can barely hear through the roar of the crowd, and my heart pounding in my ears.

  I fly, faster and faster—I’ve never moved like this. Stars! It feels good. Even in the middle of this panic, there’s something so intense and soul-satisfying to race on fleet feet with someone whose speed matches mine. For a second, I feel like the two of us are alone in the universe, our bodies working at their maximum capacity.

  The fatigue hits me about thirty seconds later.

  “Aiii,” I gasp, my muscles locking so hard and tight that I skin my feet on the hard earth as I tumble down. The pain is so intense that I see it blazing in front of me, white hot. My lungs are molten.

  “Veck!” He stops and doubles back and scoops me up. “We’re almost there.”

  I’m back over his shoulder now, head bouncing as he speeds to the tarmac. Our pursuers have multiplied; I count at least twelve beings bursting through the doors of the auction house.

  “They have weapons,” I croak. “laser guns. Long range. Through the pain, I narrow my eyes and estimate the trajectory. “Move to your left on my count. Three, two—NOW.”

  He jumps aside, and the beam of pure light crackles and sizzles past us, singing the hair on my arm as it heats the air with the power of a thousand bolts of lightning.

  “Again, to your left. Now.” I grab his waist to stabilize myself.

  This time, the ray hits a nearby craft, a transpo vehicle. The smell of burning metal hits my nose as acrid smoke puffs up. Cries of rage and fear ring out.