An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Flames of Arousal
ISBN # 1-4199-0742-5
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Flames of Arousal Copyright© 2006 Ruth D. Edited by Pamela Campbell.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication: October 2006
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Content Advisory:
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme).
S- ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E- rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as
“fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X- treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
XYLON WARRIORS:
FLAMES OF AROUSAL
Ruth D.
Prologue
Sand Moon
A clunking sound echoed inside the ship. Halah Shirota’s gaze flew toward the hatch of her downed and disabled flight vessel. Someone, or something, wanted inside…
“Damn it. Not now.” After several months on the Sand Moon, her disruptor no longer worked. The surge-rifle had lost power a week ago, and she’d used up all the energy balls on board.
She engaged the ship’s vid-system, scanning the area outside the orbiter. “Where are you?” She didn’t need to question whether the intruder was friend or foe. On the Sand Moon, one of four prison colonies in the system, the concept of “friend” didn’t exist.
At least her personal protection system remained intact. Bare hand or foot contact allowed an electrical charge to transfer from her body to another person or object, at her will, rendering whatever she touched useless.
She kept the power pack housed safely inside her jacket, which she rarely removed anymore. Even without the jacket on, she always retained a bit of electricity in her body.
She just didn’t like getting that close to an enemy to use the power, unless forced into it.
If cornered though, she had no qualms about defending herself. Not a novice at hand-to-hand combat and specially trained for electrical transference, she would certainly do whatever necessary to survive. For Josella.
These days, only the hope of finding her younger sister, her last remaining family member, kept her going. Nobody stood beside her any longer to help her or to rely on.
She fought on her own, for her own interests.
The clunking sound continued in a steady rhythm. Whoever was outside had to be purposely evading the range of her monitors. “Wily bastard!”
At least she took comfort in knowing the orbiter was well sealed. As long as she didn’t break the hatch connection and the on-board energy pack didn’t fail, she should remain safe inside.
She glanced toward the copilot’s empty seat, almost expecting to see Dak there, with his reassuring smile. Dak—a true friend, one of only a few in her life. “I miss you, Dak.” More than she ever believed she would.
Pain and loneliness squeezed her heart.
An Egesa gang had attacked and killed Dak not long after they crashed on the moon. While searching for ship parts, one of the moon’s violent and numerous storms had trapped the man too close to an Egesa camp. The half humanoid, half lizard-like creatures stole his weapons and tore his body apart. She’d found his remains the next day, while the Egesa gang slept.
Untrained for the most part, her friend had probably gone down without much of a fight. He’d only been a WAIT—Warrior in Training—when he’d defected from Xylon.
As ranking officer, his safety had been her responsibility. His death…her fault.
She’d never forgive herself for allowing him to go off alone to search for replacement parts to repair the ship. “I should have known he’d venture farther than promised.”
After they’d attacked, Halah hoped the Egesa hadn’t allowed Dak to linger, lying in pain, feeling cold and alone, before they tore him apart. She shook her head, knowing her thoughts served no purpose. She couldn’t change what had happened. “I can’t keep dwelling on him like this. It’s done.”
While in space, they’d barely survived an onboard assassination attempt. A bomb had been placed on their ship by persons unknown. Damn, how she wished she knew who had rigged the device—more than one of her enemies possessed the skill, opportunity and motive.
Only her advanced weapons’ training had allowed her to disarm the device in time.
Then when they’d thought they were free and clear, the ship had mysteriously run out of fuel, forcing them to crash-land.
The Sand Moon had been their planned destination. Josella was here…somewhere.
But beyond reaching the location, all their other plans had quickly gone to hell.
No legal air-to-space travel existed on the Sand Moon, except for prison vessels dropping off criminals, or the occasional off-moon Medical or Scientific Mission Transport with special security clearance. So locating spare ship parts here had ended up being more difficult than expected.
Because her ship wasn’t cleared for landing, she’d had to jam any incoming security probes with her vessel’s remaining power. Although those banished here were given mostly free rein within their assigned zones, if an un-cleared ship got picked up by the moon’s security forces, she’d be arrested, or at least placed aboard a prison transport and forced to leave the surface, whether she’d found her sister or not.
So many depressing thoughts. And the longer she remained stuck on the Sand Moon, the more maudlin her thoughts became.
She forced back a sniffle. “No.” With renewed conviction, she hardened her heart.
“I won’t break down.” Soft feelings made a person weak. Years ago, she’d eliminated soft from her vocabulary and from her mode of living. She wouldn’t revert now. She was a survivor!
The hatch whooshed open.
She jumped to her feet, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. How? Nobody should have been able to get that hatch open. Unless…
As soon as he stepped inside she recognized him. Tall. Muscular. Blond. Light blue eyes. A Xylon Warrior—one with a special knowledge of operational codes. “You…”
Kam Nextor, a trained Class 2 Warrior.
As a former Class 1, she possessed greater skills, but even so she knew to engage this man with caution. The intense look in his eyes set her immediately on edge and she took a step backward. He wasn’t here to help her. Not that she wanted or even expected his help. Kam had betrayed her months before, almost gotten her killed, in fact. She’d never trust him again.
“Halah,” his vo
ice rumbled. The hatch slid closed behind him, sealing them in.
“You survived.” A smile tugged at his lips.
When his gaze traveled slowly down her body, she felt her nipples harden and her pussy began to throb. Damn her reaction to his presence. She didn’t care how sexy the man was. “How did you find me?”
“I will always find you, Halah. No matter where you go.”
A shiver rushed down her spine. Suddenly the ship seemed much too small.
He stepped toward her.
She refused to retreat further and appear weak or frightened. He stopped, standing close, his six-foot-plus frame looming over her. She noted the respect reflected in his eyes and felt a sense of personal pride at standing her ground.
She’d helped Kam and two other Warriors steal highly classified information from Marid, the main moon of Xylon, held and control by Daegal and the Egesa—Xylon’s chief enemies. Along with the information, they’d stolen a sample of Daegal’s sterilization formula for study. Then she’d aided them in escaping the Dome, Daegal’s underground headquarters, in exchange for the exact location of her sister, who’d been kidnapped by the Egesa Slave Masters.
Xylon’s leader, Braden Koll, had promised her the information in exchange for her help. However, other than telling her that Josella was last seen on the Sand Moon—one of four Banishment Zones in the system, and the most dangerous of the prison colony moons orbiting Xylon—they’d told her nothing more specific.
“You should have stayed away.” The memory of the Warriors’ betrayal fueled her anger, and she reached forward to zap Kam. She wanted him out of commission before he could hurt her again.
Undeterred by her offensive move, he grabbed her hand and twisted her arm behind her back. “Stand down. I’m not here to fight you.”
She groaned in pain. How in hell had he done that? He should be writhing on the deck right now. “Why are you here then?” she forced out, struggling against his hold.
“You are my woman,” he rumbled in her ear. “My breeder-mate. I’ve come to claim you.”
Breeder-mate? Was he crazy? Breeder-mates were destined, signs existed, and Xylon’s Council needed to approve the match. He’d obviously lost his mind. She tried to flip him over her shoulder, but he again countered her move. Shit. Since leaving behind most of her training, she knew her skills had gotten rusty, but still… No way could he outfight or outmaneuver her. “Let me go, you asshole!”
“Temper, temper.” Crumpling her knees under her with a well-placed push of his boot, he forced her down to the hard deck onto her stomach.
“What are you doing?” she ground out, kicking at him, but not connecting with any force due to the angle of her body.
Using his greater weight, he held her in place. “Taking what’s fated as mine.” He pulled at her clothing, trying to get her leggings past her hips. Finally, he just ripped them off her.
“Kam! Have you lost your mind?” The man she knew would never treat a woman like this. Sexual violence went against the Warrior Code. She looked over her shoulder, trying to see into his eyes. “Kam, listen to me.” Her mind raced as she realized what must be affecting him. “It’s the headaches. You have one right now, don’t you? Don’t do this. This isn’t you.” She knew he suffered from a biological imbalance due to his breeding.
Some time back, Dak had come across the information while doing research and informed her of Kam’s specific condition. The resulting headaches he suffered, untreated, caused him great pain and had to be the reason for his actions. That’s the only thing that made sense to her.
“Quiet. You cannot deny me.” He opened the front of his sleek, black uniform, and with his knees, he forced her thighs apart.
She felt the cabin air on her bare pussy. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Stop! I don’t accept you as my breeder-mate.”
A low chuckle drew her attention.
Her eyes snapped to the side. Another Class 2 Warrior! Pitch Pantera. How had he gotten aboard? He hadn’t come in with Kam. The hatch hadn’t reopened, and the ship was shielded against inter-transport capabilities.
Pitch’s uniform hung open. His hand stroked his cock. “Get ready, Halah. We’re going to fuck you good. We’ve been looking forward to teaming up on you for a long time now. I get your pussy. Kam wants your ass. You’re going to love our fat cocks pumping like mad inside you.”
Halah’s whole body tensed. No way would she allow this to happen! The protest she’d prepared to let fly stuck in her throat. She sucked in too much air and coughed until her chest ached.
“Back off, Pantera!” Kam rubbed her back in soothing strokes. “She’s mine, and I’m taking her first. Alone.” His fingers grazed her pussy almost reverently. The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance.
At his easy touch, she moaned, then bit her lip, ashamed of the desire flooding her body. Her cunt. What was wrong with them?
What was wrong with her?
Both men’s cocks were large, thick, rock-hard, and ready to fuck her. Her body wanted it. Her mind rebelled against it. She surged up with as much strength as she could gather, catching Kam under the chin with her elbow. He grunted and toppled to the side…
She rolled over and sat up quickly, feeling dizzy. Wait. After a moment, she focused more clearly. What the hell? She sat alone on a bunk on the ship.
“Damn it!” Another one of her disturbing dreams. Her muscles slowly relaxed, and she released a tight breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. She’d been having the visions more often lately, and each time they seemed more real.
Pitch had never made an appearance before. Strange. She barely even knew of the man—only from his file and some remote vid-feeds she’d seen of him. Why would she conjure him up as a participant?
These types of visions, when this real, meant something to a Warrior, to breeder-mates. Breeder-mate—the term rattled around in her head. She’d never seriously pictured herself finding a breeder-mate…until now. She shook her head. “No.”
Impossible.
“I’m not a Warrior anymore.” After her sister was taken, and the Xylon Council had refused to send in a team to rescue her, Halah had left the planet and her duties as a Warrior behind. “So the visions mean nothing and are just caused by stress and anger and frustration.”
Strangely, her visions were not only sexual, but involved force, which wasn’t customary for true breeder-mate visions, and certainly didn’t fit in with Kam’s personality. Rock-solid proof they couldn’t be real, in her estimation.
She’d only been experiencing the odd visions since helping Kam with his headache that one night on Marid. She’d sent a gentle electrical charge through his temples, easing his pain.
After she’d helped him, she’d asked Kam not to betray her, and he’d said he wouldn’t. Then they had slept in each other’s arms, but hadn’t been intimate, even though she’d wanted him fiercely.
The next morning, he’d gone against his word by allowing her to believe he still intended to give her the information on her sister, when Josella’s exact coordinates were actually unknown to him. She’d kept her word and saw him safely off Marid, and in return, he’d betrayed her.
She tapped a metal cabinet over her head. A spark flew. “Yes. Just a dream.”
Feeling bare skin against the blanket, she glanced down at herself, then at the floor.
The sight of her black leggings, ripped and crumpled on the deck, caused her heart to skip a beat. She must have torn then wiggled out of them somehow while she slept. She leaned over and picked up the leggings, her fingers trembling.
Her thoughts returned to Kam, and she felt moisture between her thighs. “Forget about him!” She refused to acknowledge any connection between herself and the Xylon Warrior. She couldn’t possibly have feelings, sexual or otherwise, for a man she couldn’t trust. “Nothing but a dream—a fantasy.”
A clunking sound echoed inside the ship. Halah
Shirota’s gaze flew toward the hatch of her downed and disabled flight vessel. Someone, or something, wanted inside…
Chapter One
Xylon’s upper atmosphere
“Nextor 66678, you are ordered to return to the docking terminal immediately,” a female voice crackled over the orbiter’s communication system. “L-SACS has just declared a Code Orange Alert. Personal transports are no longer cleared for interplanetary travel. PTOs have been restricted to hover level only. All atmospheric and space lanes are now closed, except to fighter-status vessels.”
“They’ve got us on tracking,” Pitch Pantera relayed into the back of the personal transport orbiter. “A Code Orange. Shit! We need to head back before the planet goes Red. Changing course now.”
“Hold that change!” Kam hustled into the pilot’s seat. L-SACS was the Lair Security Auto-Command System, a computerized system which monitored space, air, ground, and underground activity. With few personnel left, he’d hoped Xylon, and L-SACS, wouldn’t bother with the departure of one small ship. He certainly hadn’t expected a Code Orange to be issued…yet. What lousy timing!
A Code Orange meant not only an impending enemy strike, but also a major breach in the Lair itself—the underground headquarters from where the men and women commissioned to protect the planet lived and maintained Xylon’s security. He’d known the alert was imminent, but had hoped for more time. If the planet went Red, that meant war. “Stay on course. We’re not turning back.”
“If a strike occurs, Xylon is going to need all the fighters it can get. You know the Lair lost most of its high-level pilots in the last uprising. If we don’t turn back, we’ll be tagged as defectors.” Pitch fed a sequence of numbers into the navigation and tracking system. “Damn it! There they are, on the echo screen. Look. Enemy fighters from Marid just beyond Xylon’s outer boundaries. Out of range, but positioning.”
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