Alien Redeemed

by Marie Dry

  This was either super weird or super sweet. “That’s not necessary, my stomach is fine.”

  “You moaned.”

  A flush burned her cheeks. “Because it tastes so good.” She pointed to her gold-and-silver plate, so unlike his plain silver one. “This is wonderful. What is it?”

  “It is called armia-zare azuatzo.” He didn’t expand on that and she decided not to ask.

  It had settled in her stomach, soft, soothing.

  The doctor walked to the door and she frowned at Zaar. “Why didn’t you ask him to join us? It’s rude to expect him to stand outside while we stuff our faces.”

  The doctor stiffened and then picked up speed and was out of the door in record time. Zaar sat down again. “It is not proper for a warrior’s breeder to invite other males to meals.”

  She took another bite. Again, those delicious flavors in her mouth. She chewed the delicious bite and swallowed. “Natalie invites the warriors on Earth to eat with her all the time.”

  “Zacar and his band of misfits are known for breaking our rules.” She thought she almost heard approval in his voice. He pointed to her plate. “It agrees with you?”

  “Yes.” It tasted so good, she had to restrain herself not to fall on the food and shovel it in. It had been days since she’d been able to eat with her normal gusto. She eyed the soft balls. They wouldn’t preserve well. Unfortunately.

  “I brought you a gift.” He leaned over the table, and a parcel wrapped with beautiful silk material lay in his hand. He stared at her unblinking.

  Sarah took it and carefully opened it. A bottle, made of some kind of crystal, lay in her hand. It was beautiful, a work of art. She held it up and a shiny pearl-colored fluid sparkled inside.

  “It is the best soap in all the empire. You will use it and be clean and you will not need to wash in your sleep.”

  Sarah stared down at the beautiful bottle in her hand. Visions of the ugliness she’d lived through flashed in front of her like a TC image. She’d woken two more times inside the shower, frantically scrubbing her skin raw. He’d found her both times while she showered in her sleep. Apparently, his super-power hearing alerted him to her showering in the middle of the night. Each time he’d insisted she stop scrubbing her skin raw.

  “I will assist you with the cleaning; as a Zyrgin warrior, I will be superior at the cleaning of my breeder,” he said with smug self-assurance. “Your skin will not bleed anymore.” The way his eyes flashed red told her he’d enjoy touching her naked body. She ignored the way her heartbeat quickened at the thought.

  This alien, this male, who had no idea what it felt like to be helpless and victimised, dared, he dared give her soap to feel clean? Did he really think soap could wash away the memories, the nightmares that ambushed her when she was at her most vulnerable?

  When the black spots in front of her eyes disappeared, she looked up slowly, so slowly. Something inside her broke free, that something that had lurked when the reverend took her to his basement for ‘instruction’, that something that had curled up inside her and died when raider after raider raped and beat her. The same something that had simmered these last few weeks while he held her captive in this room with custom as his excuse. “You dare,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and took another deep breath. “You dare give me soap, as if it will wash away months of abuse and depravation.” She threw the bottle at him with all her strength. “You dare,” she screamed.

  He caught it and stared at her with his head cocked. “You said you wanted to feel clean.”

  Black spots swirled in her vision. “You unbelievable, bald-headed, insensitive son of a coyote,” she screamed. She didn’t know how she got close enough to scream in his face and she didn’t care.

  “Do not―”

  Sarah slapped her hands against his chest and pushed, wanting to push him out of his chair and onto the floor. He didn’t move and that only made her madder. “You don’t even try to understand what I went through? Have you ever been helpless and abused?”

  “No―”

  “I hate that I’m small and helpless. I hate being trapped in this room and its overdone furniture day after day.” She pushed him again. “And would you fall or flinch or something when I push you, like a normal human being.” She continued to scream in his face.

  “How will my knowing what you went through change anything? Or me falling?” he sounded so reasonable, so emotionless.

  Sarah shuddered, clutched her arms around her middle and stepped away from him. She’d have thought he’d get up, but he sat almost relaxed.

  “Why don’t you look up empathy?” she whispered. Her shoulders sagged. “Sometimes I think I’ll be trapped, remembering and feeling dirty for the rest of my life.” During most of her waking hours, the memories left her alone. Their lessening of her memory of the camps had helped. But at night, in the darkest hours, it ambushed her.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I will find a solution.”

  “Good luck with that,” she muttered. She had to get off this planet. She could steal a spaceship. Get a weapon somehow and force one of them to fly her home. Her shoulders slumped. “This is not going to work. I am never going to accept imprisonment again. I have to talk to Natalie and Julia. I can’t bear the thought of you touching me.”

  He stiffened. “Because of how I smell?”

  Her head jerked up, the hair that had gotten loose flying around her face. “What? No.” Impatient, she pushed her hair out of her face.

  “We made a bargain on your Earth. You agreed to be my breeder.”

  “I know I promised, but I can’t bear the thought of you touching me.” No that wasn’t true. She couldn’t bear the thought of sex. If she could bear anyone’s touch, it would be his.

  “Because of what happened to you.” His shoulders relaxed. “That is why you do not wish to do a first knowing or share the sleeping place with me?”

  She frequently thought of sharing the sleeping place with him. He drew her like a magnet and if she was capable of ever having sex, he’d be the one she’d do it with. She stepped back, put the chairs and fallen table between them. “With your advanced technology, I can be pregnant without us, you know, being intimate.” Her face was on fire. After everything that had happened, she was surprised she was still capable of blushing.

  “My small warrior will be born in the human manner.”

  “I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered and she felt like a failure, like half a woman.

  “I will fix you and we will have a small warrior.”

  “I told you, I can’t be fixed. Do you promise you won’t force me?”

  “I have omgraz’ra,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means honor. Zyrgin warriors live with honor and we never hurt a breeder.”

  8

  Zaar rarely used his powers to move around within his headquarters, but he materialized in his dwelling before the thought of moving had fully formed.

  He’d taken a day out of his busy schedule to find the best soap in his empire. He’d gone personally to demand that fat Aurelian merchant hand over the best soap in his shop. Did she think running an empire allowed him time to do that? She wanted to be clean—he solved her problem. He’d thought maybe she’d consent to share this space with him if he helped her to feel clean.

  He needed an expert on human women, someone who could tell him how to get his breeder to do a first knowing with him. Zacar had his human breeder the longest and she was unusually content.

  With a thought, he materialized on Earth inside Zacar’s quarters. Zaar remained camouflaged and stared at the human practicing with a wooden sword. Considering she was so small, had the drawback of being human, and had no training, she showed promise. A cunning thought occurred to him. He dropped his camouflage.

  The little girl turned and held her sword with two hands, fierce, brown eyes slicing to him. “I will defend this dwelling with my life,” she screeched.


  “You could not hope to defeat me, small human.”

  She looked him up and down and briefly stared at his knee. “I could take you,” she boasted.

  Her courage impressed him. “You cannot take me in battle. I might consent to train you and give you a warrior sword if you agree to help me.”

  She scrunched up her face. “A real warrior sword that appears and disappears?”

  “I might consider it.” He was the Zyrgin—he could give a human a sword if he wished.

  She stood closer, eagerness in every move. Along with the swordplay, he’d have to teach her to be more careful of strangers. “What do you want me to help you with?”

  “I want to know what human women like. I will only give you a real warrior sword if you help me win my human.”

  She smiled up at him, all blunt human teeth. “I can tell you everything you have to know. Daddy does lots of things Mommy likes.”

  “I need specifics.”

  She tilted her head, an oddly Zyrgin motion. “First off, you have to get chocolate—Mommy likes chocolate and don’t call your wife breeder. Mommy hates that.”

  He returned to his dwelling an hour later.

  A silent ping announced he had a visitor and he gritted his teeth. The Wise One was the last person he wanted to talk to, but the code that flashed said this was an emergency.

  Zaar didn’t believe any of the religious cast had the strength to grab power, but they did have the cunning to be the power behind the parenadorz.

  The Wise One entered and inclined his head. Zaar had to concede that the religious-caste Zyrgin never bowed and scraped. He never twitched like the other of his kind did in Zaar’s presence. It had been interesting to see the many religions of the people on Earth. In the Zyrgin galaxy, most planets were Zoroastrians and worshiped the same gods. The Wise One was the head of the religion for Zyrgin and all the conquered planets. The warriors tended to be the least religious of his people, but they stationed six warriors on each planet where they burned their fire.

  Zaar walked to the wall and took out the ale he kept there.

  “I have had some disturbing reports from my priest stationed on Aurelia,” the Wise One said. He’d learned that Zaar didn’t tolerate long, involved conversations.

  Zaar stilled with the two glasses of Aurelian ale in his hand. They’d had several indications that the Aurelians were up to no good. Not for the first time, he wished he didn’t allow his conscience to cause him to be so lenient with that planet.

  “Treason?” He handed over one of the goblets. They’d suspected for a while now that the priest stationed on Aurelia was involved with the plot to overthrow Zyrgin rule. The Aurelian planning to revolt amused Zaar. A nation made up of courtiers and artisans stood no chance against his warriors.

  “It seems we have a serious problem on Aurelia,” the Wise One said. He clenched his fist around the goblet and then deliberately relaxed his hand. “I suspect treason, but not from where we’d expect it.”

  He gave a detailed report and Zaar stalked up and down. “I should’ve blasted that cursed planet out of existence a century ago.”

  “Violence is not the only answer to a problem,” the Wise One said.

  Zaar didn’t bother to comment on that statement. “Keep your eyes and ears open and report back to me regularly. I will contact the warrior in command of the Zyrgins on Aurelia.”

  He kept pacing after the Wise One had left. They’d been aware of the plot against them ever since the faulty equipment was sent to Earth. This was a complication he didn’t need. He wanted to spend time with his breeder. His expert had given him sound advice and he had the one fail-safe method Zacar had told him about in reserve, if his expert’s advice didn’t work. Zacar had assured him that no human female could resist it.

  That reminded him: he carefully programed his uniform to make a few creases over his shoulder.

  9

  Sarah stared down at the TC in her hands. If she watched any of the programs on it, she’d miss Earth so much, she would be miserable for days. If only she could go outside and walk in the sun. Or if that stubborn Zyrgin would let her speak to Julia and Natalie, she wouldn’t feel this isolated.

  Heavy pounding on the wall where the door was located made Sarah nearly come out of her skin. Her TC flew out of her hands and she fumbled, but managed not to drop it. The door opened with that weird soundless whoosh. Zaar stalked in with exaggerated slowness. If her heart wasn’t beating overtime and her legs trembling, she might have thought it funny. He looked like an actor in a movie clip that was shown in slow motion.

  “I knocked,” he announced.

  “I appreciate it,” she murmured, trying not to laugh and it was wonderful to feel human again. Her stomach didn’t ache and their fight had allowed her to blow off some steam. He looked deadly serious and after every slow step, pointedly looked at her. In anyone else it would be comic. Zaar lost none of the deadly dangerous aura that hung around him, though he did gain a lot in the sexiness stakes.

  “It is the time when you normally go to sleep.” He went to the bed and drew back the covers.

  “How do you know that?” Her eardrums buzzed unpleasantly. She took a few steps away from him. Did he want to have sex? What could she do if he insisted? Her heart beat so loud she could barely hear him speak.

  “I monitor your life signs through the translation implant.” He drew back the glittering silk sheet and blankets that looked as if they were made from thick strands of silk.

  On the one hand it was an invasion of her privacy, but on the other, she couldn’t get worked up about— Wait. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What else are you monitoring through the translator?”

  “Your location; if anyone stole you, I would be able to track you.”

  She shrugged mentally. There were worse things, like being kidnapped and sold. “Why are you drawing back the blankets on the bed?” she asked. Up to now he hadn’t even hinted that he’d want to share a bed with her.

  He pointed to the bed. “You will get in now and then I will cover you with the blanket, kiss your forehead, and give you a surprise.”

  She heard him through the panicked buzzing in her ears. Kiss her forehead? She wanted to run, but that would make him chase her. His odd words grounded her. Zyrgins had honor—they didn’t hurt women, she chanted to herself.

  Sarah shuffled forward, every instinct in her body telling her to run. At the same time, she didn’t have the sense that he meant her harm. She’d become expert at reading the signs of a man wanting to hurt her. Even an alien one. What if she was wrong—what if he hurt her? He was so strong. She didn’t have her nightdress on, but she wasn’t about to point that out to him. She got in and sat up against the many cushions stacked against the wall, ready to jump out and run if he made one wrong move.

  He disappeared and returned almost immediately and approach her slowly, more carefully than she would’ve thought him capable. “I have bathed my body. I can also apply oils from Aurelia if my smell offends you.” He stood tall, his shoulders back, lips pressed together.

  He could shower that fast? His words penetrated her mind. This proud warrior offering to hide his natural scent under oils hurt so much her chest ached. It wasn’t right.

  “Your smell could never offend me,” she said softly.

  He sat on the bed next to her, towering over her. “Did you wash behind your ears?”

  “Yes, wait, what?” She frowned up at him. Maybe she was truly losing her mind. Did the ruler of all the known galaxies just ask her if she’d washed behind her ears?

  Without waiting for an answer, he produced a handful of chocolates with a theatrical gesture. “Your surprise.”

  Sarah took the chocolates with widened eyes. “How did you find these?”

  He moved to the other side of the bed and climbed on, and sat down cross-legged. He’d taken off his boots, but she didn’t see him do it. She stared at his bare feet. Vicious claws tipped each toe. She’d never thought a
nyone could have such big feet. So close to her, his knee touched her thigh. It should’ve made him look more casual, less dangerous, but it didn’t. It did make him sexier. His silver uniform stretched over his broad shoulders. His thigh muscles rippled. She reached out a shaking hand and smoothed the crease over his shoulder.

  “I can find anything.” He handed her more chocolates. “Many centuries ago, this planet was a primitive place. The conditions were harsh with life barely clinging on. Its inhabitants, the first Zyrgins, had very little technology and lived with simple dignity. But even then, they had pride and honor.” He flashed his incisors. “The other space-faring races called us primitives. They came in their ships and took our people as slaves.” He cocked his head. “We taught them to respect us.”

  Sarah rubbed her eyes, and looked at him. No, not an illusion. The Zyrgin of all the known galaxies and soon to be ruler of the unknown galaxies still sat on the bed next to her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was telling her a bedtime story. After giving her chocolates. Sarah unwrapped another one and listened with rapt attention to his deep voice.

  “The Solarians were the first to try and enslave my ancestors…”

  Sarah lay back and enjoyed the long and detailed description of the rise of the Zyrgin Empire. She was getting really sleepy when he ended with, “That brings us to the rule of the second Zyrgin.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, his warm lips branding her skin. With a fluid grace, he stood. “You are over your fear and ready to do the first knowing with me now.”

  “What is the first knowing?” Even as she asked, she knew the answer. She’d developed an instinct for danger.

  “It is when I penetrate your body with mine. Are you ready?”

  She bolted upright. “What? No.” Betrayal almost crippled her. He was a Zyrgin. Like the warriors who’d saved her. He was supposed to be different.

  “The doctor assured me we will fit. I made him do the calculations twice.”