Mastered by the Zandians: Alien Warrior Reverse Harem Romance

by Rose, Renee

  “I can’t. I can’t do it.” Her gaze is wild.

  “You can.” I take both her hands, then press my hand to her chest, below her breasts. “When I press, you push down, bear down, like you have to eliminate. Like you’re trying to squeeze out everything inside. Only stop and breathe again when I remove my hand.”

  She nods and tries it, and after a few minutes, when I touch her wrist, her pulse is normal again.

  “Thank you.” Her voice is a little hoarse. “I didn’t expect to get so scared.”

  “It happens. It’s a physical reaction. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I touch her hand. “Sometimes the panic comes later, after the initial shock wears off.”

  “How did you know what to do?” Her voice is low.

  I shrug. “It’s what I’ve done all my life. Learned to fight and rescue. I guess it was just instinct at this point.”

  “Well, you saved our lives.” Amber swallows. “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” Her voice rises. “Is that what you think of us? We’re nothing to you?”

  “No!” I step back. “I just meant.” I blink. When my voice comes out again, it’s a whisper, and I'm horrified at how close to tears I sound. “I just meant that it’s probably nothing compared to what I need to do to fit in here. I’ll never fit in.”

  I wipe my eye roughly, even though it’s dry and cross my arms. If I were faking my emotions, that would be a good line.

  The problem is that what I said is entirely true. And even if my mind is always on Jesel and the idea of getting back here, I am really starting to love it here on Zandia. The place, my mates, the people—it’s pretty amazing. I could see myself living here forever.

  But I can’t. Jesel lies in me like a hard stone in my chest every time I move. A lump in my throat every time I swallow. Splinters under my nails every time I touch something here, reminding me of my obligations. My promises. That my friends are back there, waiting for me. Needing my help.

  How can I just forget them and pretend they don’t exist? I can’t be happy here, not until I resolve that feeling. And I can’t resolve it. What I need to do is go back to Jesel.

  But for now I push that away, and focus on the present. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

  “Mirelle. Of course you’ll fit in here. You already do.” Amber looks away, a little guilty, maybe thinking of how she and Kianna treat me. “Ah, I mean, if you want to, you will. Really want to.”

  I nod. Then we’re all quiet, and look away from each other.

  There’s my tool and my practice comm unit. I take a deep breath and pick it up. “Back to work, I guess.”

  Kianna nods. Then she stands next to me. “Here, do it like this.” Her voice is low. She stands closer to me than usual, her shoulder brushing mine. I smell the odor of her hair, sweat and a hint of grass. Usually she keeps herself away, like I’m made of garbage.

  She demonstrates. “See? If you angle it like this and twist, it pops out. It's a technique you need to develop.”

  “I see.” I watch intently.

  “And it will go faster if you open from this angle.” She turns the device over. “I’ve been watching you. You actually learn fast.”

  “I felt like I was ridiculously slow.”

  “This isn’t easy stuff.” She puts down the tool. “How did you learn to fight like that?”

  “It’s all I’ve done, all my life.” I look at her. “It’s in my blood.”

  “Can… can you teach me?” Her voice is hesitant. “I was so unprepared. Before.” She blinks hard. “I don’t like being that way.” She trails off into a whisper, her hands shaking. “I haven’t felt that way since I came here.”

  “I can try.”

  “Thank you.” She breathes, shakes out her hands. She types something into a comm and hands it to me. “Use this one. I’ve updated it with better training info.” She sits down and looks at me. “I used to be a cleaning and service slave for a long time, but when I was a child, I remember being free. I don’t even know what planet it was. Or if it’s even real, or just a dream. But there was a field like that, and the grass moved in the wind.”

  She stares off into the distance again. “And someone held my hand.”

  “Who?” I keep my voice low.

  “I don’t know.” She clears her throat. “But if I push too hard, I feel like I’m forcing ideas into the memory, so I have to let it go. I don't know if I’ll ever see who it was.”

  “It’s a good memory, though?”

  She nods. “The best.” Then she looks at me. “And here on Zandia, I feel like I did in that moment, Mirelle. Safe. Happy. Like things are going to be all right.”

  I nod. “I want to feel that way, too.”

  “Except for that vipn.” She shudders. “Then I felt…” She shakes her head. “You helped us right away. Even if it meant you might be hurt.”

  “That’s what I’ve done all my life, too.” I shrug. “I help other humans. It’s even deeper than my blood. I think it’s in every piece of me. Part of my identity.”

  “You know, being here doesn’t mean you stop doing that.” Her gaze is softer.

  I tilt my head.

  She smiles. “Let's make a deal. You teach me to fight like that, and I’ll get you up to speed on the comm tech.”

  “Deal.” I smile back.

  I think I just made my first real friend, in my entire life.

  Chapter 12

  Lanz

  “Looking good.” I let out a low whistle.

  “Yes.” Domm nods his approval. “She’ll be surprised.”

  “That’s an understatement.” I look at her craft. When it first came in, it was little more than a twisted hunk of scrap, the huge hole in the side just one of multiple fatal flaws.

  Over the past months, we’ve rebuilt it. Fixed the hole, strengthened the hull. Added improved navigation and guidance. No cloaking or weapons, of course—but at least this thing could fly again, and better than before.

  “Still think we’d get our ass chewed out if Seke knew we were doing this.” Domm grins.

  “Reverse engineering.” I laugh.

  “Not untrue, actually.” Domm runs a hand over the side of the craft. “The way she set up her controls is perfect for human peripheral vision, and Derk already updated the config for when humans go along on missions.”

  “Not to mention the way she had the manual controls set up.” I step back to admire the small craft. “Not that it will ever come to it, but it’s a better manual config than we had. For emergencies, we can update the protocol.”

  “I can’t wait to take her for a supervised flight.”

  “She’ll be happy.” I touch a scratch in the hull. “We should buff this out.”

  “I think she feels—caged.”

  “No doubt,” I agree. The unease that always creeps up around thoughts of Mirelle surfaces. Despite our efforts to tame the little warrior—despite her growing warmth and ease with us—she’s not happy here.

  Not yet.

  * * *

  Mirelle

  I’m two people.

  There’s the Mirelle who lives here and thinks of Zandia as her home. Who’s grateful to fate for landing here, in a place where she can thrive, and relax, and love, and build a future that’s intricate and lovely.

  Then there's the Mirelle who is only faking it, who’s gathering data and information so she can escape. Fulfill her promise to her species and herself, and rededicate herself to her core values.

  I’m nurturing them both, these two dramatically different Mirelles, making each woman strong and powerful.

  At some point I’ll have to choose one, and let the other die, because there won't be room in my skin for both. And I am terrified, because both of them are part of my soul.

  But right now I don't need to make that choice. There’s still time.

  And tonight I’m being happy Mirelle, who nearly loves
her mates, and wants to enjoy time with them.

  * * *

  Mirelle

  “Try this. Watch.” I push the comms unit that I’ve repaired over to Kianna, a smile stretching my face. I preen a little bit as her eyebrows go up.

  “Mirelle. Seriously?” She jumps to her feet. “Amber. Look.” She grabs her friend by the arm. “Mother Earth, she did it. You did it.”

  “Once you taught me how to redo the circuits, it was the next logical step to adjust the caps.”

  “It’s genius.” She lowers her voice. “Mykl is going to die.”

  “He might even smile once.” Amber grins.

  Kianna bursts into laughter. “Oh, stars, that would be the planet rotation, wouldn't it?” She glances across the dome and her face turns pink, a little bit. “It would take more than a technological breakthrough to make that one respond.”

  “I thought I was the only one he hated.” I follow her gaze. Something about knowing he’s cold to the other humans? It makes me feel connected to them. Less alone.

  “Oh, he doesn’t hate us.” She corrects. “He’s just really old school Zandian. Shows no emotion. They develop their sensitive side a bit more once they bond with humans. So far, he’s avoided that at all costs.” She nibbles her lip.

  “Hmmm.”

  “What does that mean?” She crosses her arms, but I see her sneak a little glance across the dome.

  “It means someone wants a mate.” I sing it like a little song.

  “Shhh! Stop! He can hear like, I don’t know. For miles.”

  “Might be good for him.”

  “What’s good for him is that.” She touches my comm. “I can’t believe you did this. This is amazing.”

  “I learn fast. I knew I’d do it once I got going.”

  “But you never had this kind of tech on Jesel?”

  I shake my head. “No. I wish we had. I could have…” I sigh. Touch the cuff around my wrist.

  “Does that hurt?” She extends one finger. When I nod my permission, she runs it along the metal.

  “No. Not physically.”

  “Do your mates ever let you take it off?”

  “At home, sometimes. At nights.” I flush. Sometimes they add more cuffs, and anchor me down, arms, and legs, and pleasure me for hours. Until we’re all exhausted with passion and bliss. They have me addicted to them. Makes it easier to be away from home.

  Mykl gestures from across the room.

  “Oh, the new project!” Amber’s voice is eager. “Let’s go.”

  But when I stand to join them, she shakes her head.

  “No, you can’t.” She touches my arm, soft. “I’m sorry. It’s...classified. Outside of your cuff range. It’s something for the new fighter systems.”

  “Oh.” I nod. “Sure, I see. I’ll just keep doing...this.”

  My chest tightens as I watch them across the room, heads bent down. My fingers itch to work on the newest tech, too. And by rights, if it came down to pure skill, they should choose me! This isn’t the first thing I’ve fixed. My brags to my mates were not wrong; I’ve actually fixed some errors and made improvements. But still they don’t trust me with the more sensitive things. Mykl, I can tell, barely wants me around even now that I’m making huge improvements to their work flow and systems. He doesn’t trust me.

  I can’t blame him because the truth is that I’m still looking out for opportunities. To do what, I don’t know. But I’m restless, and I’m not settled here, and my blood burns to take, to seize, and then to escape back to Jesel, to my work. It’s still not within possibility, but every new freedom I earn here brings me that much closer.

  Chapter 13

  Mirelle

  “You. Follow me.” Mykl points to me and makes a grunting noise.

  Next to me, Kianna makes a snorting sound, and I try not to laugh.

  “Where are we going?” I put down my tools and wipe my hands on my tunic.

  “To talk to Master Seke.”

  “What?” My stomach flips. The humans next to me go silent. Nobody talks to him unless it’s a huge deal. He’s the king’s Master at Arms—the highest commander of military forces.

  “Why?”

  “You’ll find out. Don’t ask unnecessary questions.”

  He glances at Kianna and clears his throat. “You. Make sure the project stays on track.”

  “Of course.” She smiles sweetly. “Anything for you. And I do mean anything.”

  He seems to turn a slightly deeper shade of purple, but I can only focus on why I’m being summoned.

  When we walk out of the dome, I’m surprised and a little terrified to see my two mates and Master Seke standing in front of a hovercraft.

  “Mirelle.” Seke nods to me.

  “Master Seke.” Not sure of the protocol, I curtsy.

  “I understand that you’ve been teaching Kianna to fight.”

  I look at my mates for guidance, but they merely return my look, impassive.

  “Yes, I have. I was not aware that it was prohibited…”

  “It is not. We’d like you to teach a larger group of humans.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Relief makes me dizzy. Lanz and Domm have broad smiles on their faces.

  “Kianna showed us her new skills. We’d like to have you train some of our humans. And, ah…” he pauses just a beat, “some of our Zandian males as well. The younger males could benefit from your brand of martial arts, in addition to the standard Zandian training techniques.”

  “Seriously?” I take a step forward. “Will they accept me as a teacher?”

  “They follow orders, as will you.” His voice is firm. “You will work with another Zandian to develop the training.”

  “Of course.” I look again at Lanz and Domm, unable to stop a giddy smile from spreading across my face. “I’d be honored.”

  “You’ll still keep working here in the tech dome, and teach classes three times a week. Your mates will show you the location and provide any and all supplies.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Mirelle

  The planet rotations pass in pleasure and agony. I’m elated when I make progress in the training class. Seeing my recruits learn the kicks and punches I teach them gives me pride, and I can’t help but celebrate each time I create something new in the tech dome.

  Mykl praises me so often now that it’s almost embarrassing.

  I have friends. Amber and Kianna. We laugh together.

  And my mates.

  But then there’s my dark, toxic secret, as poisonous as vipn serum. My secret scanner. the way I never stop thinking of ways I can get out of here and back to Jesel. The way that anger surges up in me sometimes, so bright and powerful that I think I could kill a being with the force of my stare, if I just harnessed that passion. The way I long to be free, and the way I sob when I’m alone, scream, bang my wrists on the wall, wishing to be free of these cursed cuffs. the ones that remind me and everyone else that I’m still a danger. That I don’t belong here, not really, although I’m stuck here forever.

  The fact that I would so nearly love to be stuck here, wouldn’t think of it as being stuck, if only they could just let me go back once. Just once.

  But they won’t. Every time I bring it up, they get more frustrated. So I never speak of it.

  And that makes the need grow stronger and more twisted, until I think my chest is full of a tumor of anger and it’s going to burst out of my skin, black and hideous, killing me and everyone in the vicinity.

  * * *

  Mirelle

  “Some beings can communicate without talking.” I pick up Lanz’ hand and trace his strong fingers.

  “Even here.” He nods. “Did you know Danica and her daughter Marea can do that?”

  They can? I frown. “But she’s human.”

  “Her story is unique. She carried and gave birth to an Akronian, which changed her own DNA. And then her Zandian mates further changed things.”

  “I’m a little je
alous.”

  “I don’t think she’d say her past is anything to wish for.”

  “Not that part. But the communication part. Think how handy that could come in battle. Or just, anywhere.”

  He nods. “But I think I can read your body sometimes.” He chuckles. “Like when you’re about to come? You make this noise and tense your body.”

  “I know when you're about to come, too.” I lick his neck.

  “We can teach you the Zandian warrior sign signals.”

  “What are those?”

  He takes my hand. “Pay attention.” He taps my palm. One short tap, staccato, and two longer ones that linger longer on the skin. “Fast, slow slow.” That’s the symbol for “Look out, straight ahead.”

  “Okay.” I do it back to him. “Teach me another one.”

  “Oh, I’ve got one for her.” He takes my palm and taps into it. Fast slow slow slow, fast fast fast fast.

  “What’s that one?”

  “It means that I want to veck you.”

  “Oh, you use this one in battle often?” I narrow my eyes.

  Domm gives me a dirty grin. “It’s really just a sort of signal language, a different way of ciphering without letters. You can flash lights to communicate. Or tap, like we’re doing.”

  “Could come in handy in a captivity situation.”

  “Indeed.” He rolls over so he traps me beneath him. “Like this.”

  Then he bends down and licks the message that he wants to veck me into my neck.

  “How do I signal back yes?”

  “You can just spread your thighs.” He smirks. “It’s that simple.”

  “Animal. You know what I mean.”

  He lets go of one of my wrists to slap my thigh. “Is that the way to talk to your master?”

  “If he’s being difficult.” I slide my thighs apart. “Definitely.”