Adored by the Alien Assassin (Warriors of the Lathar Book 5)

by Mina Carter

  Besides, he admitted with a sigh as he lay down next to Jac, he wanted to be well rested when they arrived. The Imperial Court was not a place to be caught on the back foot at the best of times, and definitely not when he had two females under his protection. He lifted an arm to pillow his head and closed his eyes. There was also the fact that once they got to the court, he planned to ask the emperor for permission to claim Jac. Which also meant he was likely to have some challenge fights to deal with before he could claim his little human.

  The thought of her face when he told her brought a smile to his lips, and he concentrated on the female lying on the bed next to him. Only to realize she wasn’t asleep after all…

  Thank fuck for that. She didn’t think he was ever going to sleep.

  Jac lay on her side, her breathing deep and even as the big alien warrior settled onto the bed next to her. She didn’t tense up or do anything that would indicate she was awake as she waited for him to do something. Touch her maybe. Roll her over and… who was she kidding? He wasn’t interested in her that way. He’d practically said as much earlier.

  She was curled up, facing the middle of the big padded surface that doubled as a bed. It had risen out of the floor earlier, like the rest of the furniture. Fortunately, she’d been on this side of it, so she’d seen the little compartment on the side where the door didn’t quite close. It was perhaps a maintenance issue… something that was entirely possible when the whole interior of the ship seemed to change as per its owner’s whim. With that many moving parts, including the weird eye on a stick, she was surprised it wasn’t in the space ship garage every week.

  But his problem was her opportunity. Under the guise of lying down and going to sleep, she’d managed to get the tips of her fingers under the raised edge and pry it open. Inside the little compartment there had been a collection of wicked looking knives and a bat. She’d bitten her lip to keep her whoop of triumph inside. Ignoring the knives—she didn’t want to kill him, just put him out of action for a while—she’d selected the bat, sliding it from its hiding place as quietly as she could and tucking it down the side of the bed, beneath the fold of the big blanket that covered it. In easy reach.

  She wasn’t letting him take her and Lizzie back to the Lathar planet. No way, no how. While he might talk a pretty game, and she was sure he wouldn’t hurt her, she didn’t know or trust the rest of his people as far as she could throw them. After all, they’d refused to let Jessica come home even though they knew how ill Lizzie was.

  Plus, there was this thing they had about “claiming” women. There was no way she was going to risk one of the assholes taking a liking to her and trying to claim her. That would be one alien hottie with some very bruised balls if he tried it. Rynn, yeah. Heat flushed her cheeks at the thought. She’d definitely think about him, but not some asshole she didn’t know. She could easily end up in a worse situation than she had with Buck a few years ago.

  Not. Happening.

  Finally, though, he’d come to lie down next to her, stretching that big body out on the soft surface and getting comfortable. Every cell in her body alive at his nearness, she waited for his breathing to level out and for him to drop off—

  “I know you’re awake, little human.” His deep rumble was intimate in the silence of the cabin.

  Bollocks. Rumbled.

  She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression amused. Rather than be annoyed, the devil of mischief on her shoulder prompted her to stick her tongue out at him.

  “Am not. This is just a dream.”

  “Really now?” He smiled, head pillowed by his arm, the long blond curls almost within reach. Her fingers itched to touch. To see if they were as soft as they looked. “If this is a dream, what’s to stop me doing this…”

  Her breathing hitched as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. They were softer than she’d thought, like warm silk against hers. It was the softest kiss anyone had ever given her and totally not what she’d expected from a barbarian alien warrior. His lips clung to hers for a moment, and then he pulled away.

  She bit back her moan of disappointment and then realized that he hadn’t pulled away completely. His lips hovered a hairsbreadth from hers. So close that she’d only have to smile to kiss him back.

  The message was clear. It was her choice to kiss him back or not.

  Her heart thumping in her chest, she closed the gap and did just that. He groaned the instant their lips made contact, strong arms snaking around her to pull her into his embrace.

  She went willingly, all thoughts of retaliation and escape scattering from her mind as she nestled against his broad chest. Rolling to his back, he pulled her half across him, a strong hand driving into the mass of curls at the nape of her neck as he took over the kiss.

  And god could he kiss.

  His lips moved over hers, feathering and exploring the shape as though they had all the time in the world. Before she could become frustrated, though, he moved, hand in the small of her back as he deepened the kiss. Tilting his head, he demanded entrance with a gentle nip at her lower lip. The sensual sting made her gasp, and he took full advantage of her parted lips.

  She moaned as he swept within, seeking out the softer recesses of her mouth and exploring. His tongue found hers, stroking and caressing. Heat hit her broadside, a shiver running through her body to settle in the apex of her thighs. Her hands buried themselves in the chaotic tumble of his hair and she groaned again at the feel of the silken strands. They felt like heaven against her hands… what would they feel like brushing against other areas of her skin?

  “Sweet,” he pulled back to murmur, hands on her waist easily lifting her to straddle him.

  Her eyes widened as she settled in his lap, the thick, hard bar of his cock pressing against her. A rush of heat dampened her panties and he smiled, carnal knowledge heating his beautiful blue eyes.

  “Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t—”

  “Smell your need?” He claimed her lips again in a hard, drugging kiss that left her breathless. “Of course I did. You want me.”

  Yeah, she did. Badly. A whimper escaped her as he rocked his hips, cock constrained in his pants pressing against her needy clit. Her heart rate kicked up, her pussy clenching savagely. If he kept that up, she would come just from dry humping him.

  “And I want you,” he murmured back, holding her hair out of the way as he half-sat to kiss her again. “Maybe I’ll keep you after all.”

  Ice washed down her spine like someone had thrown a bucket of water over her, and any arousal she’d felt fled. He’d keep her, would he? She’d see about that.

  Breaking the kiss with a gasp, she looked toward the front of the cabin with a frown. “Did you hear that?”

  “What? No… what did you hear?” His hands froze. The rocking of his hips stilled as he looked toward the pilot’s chair.

  “I don’t know. It sounded like some kind of alarm.” She looked at him, her eyes wide. “What if that scarred guy followed us?”

  Rynn sighed, sliding her off his lap. “I’d better check it out. Then we can get back to more pleasurable pursuits.”

  Oh, she didn’t think so. Jac reached behind the bed and lifted the bat, rising off the mattress and padding after the big warrior. Before he could reach the pilot's chair, she gathered herself and swung the bat with all her might.

  It hit with a sickening crunch across the back of his neck and shoulders. He went down without a sound, sprawled across the cold, hard floor of the ship.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the bat dropping from nerveless fingers as she fell to her knees beside him. Crap, what if she’d actually killed him? She hadn’t meant to really hurt him… just knock him out for a while so she could escape. Her hands shook as she reached out, pressing two fingers against where the pulse should be in his neck. At least, she hoped so. Lathar were supposed to be built the same as humans, weren’t they?

  Relief hit her hard and fast when s
he felt the strong beat against her fingers.

  “Thank god,” she whispered, feeling weak for a second. She hadn’t killed him. He’d wake up with a cracking headache but he’d be okay.

  Determination renewed, she surged to her feet and scrambled to the control panel. Once there, she pressed the sequence of buttons she’d seen Rynn use to talk to Fenriis.

  “Hello? Can anyone hear me? This is Jacqueline Wright from… uhh… from Earth. I’ve been kidnapped and I’m in a space ship with an alien. Please help.”

  Chapter Nine

  “This is Major Stephens. Identify yourself.”

  The voice crackling over the comm brought Jac’s head up sharply, and she scrambled from her seat on the floor to reach the console.

  “Yes! Yes! I’m here! My name is Jac Wright. I’m on a ship called the Keris,” she gabbled. The name and rank were human, which meant a ship. A ship meant they could rescue her.

  Relief flooded through her. It had been hours since she’d knocked Rynn out, but no one had answered her hail. And she had no clue how to fly an alien space ship.

  “The Keris? That doesn’t sound like a Terran vessel…”

  “No, no, it’s not.” She looked at the controls on the console, wondering which one activated the viewscreen so she could see Major Stephens… if his ship systems were even compatible with alien ones.

  She didn’t recognize anything, though, and dared not press random buttons. For all she knew she could set them off flying into the nearest star. Lesson learned, never knock out the only person that could fly the damn ship.

  “I was kidnapped by a Lathar and he’s taking me back to his planet.”

  “Copy that. Have you gained control of the vessel?”

  “Uh-huh,” she nodded and then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes. I knocked him out. But he’s not waking up.” Her voice wavered with concern. “I think I might really have hurt him. I didn’t mean to. I only meant to knock him out so I could get away.”

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Major Stephens’ voice was firm. “We have medics on board who can treat him. Can you give me your location?”

  “Oh, thank god for that. He’s breathing, and he has a pulse but he’s just not waking up.” She cast the fallen warrior a glance. Not that she wanted him to wake up right now. He’d be pissed and rightly so. She’d be pissed if someone had clocked her over the back of the head and tried to steal her ship. “I don’t know how to operate the ship. I just remembered how to open a communication channel because I saw him do it. There was a computer but it seems to have turned off or something.”

  “No worries. Just stay on the line,” Stephens ordered, his voice warm and supportive. “We’ve got a lock on your location. Hang tight and we’ll come get yo—”

  The end of his sentence broke off in a burst of static that made her wince. A bad line in space? She’d have thought they’d have gotten all that shit sorted out by now.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much!” she breathed not sure if he’d heard her.

  It didn’t matter. Her message had gotten through. They knew where she was, and they were going to come get her. Tears prickled hot at the backs of her eyes and she drew a ragged breath. She should be relieved. Should be happy that she and Lizzie were going home. So why did the thought of never seeing Rynn again leave her with an ache in the center of her chest like the bottom had fallen out of her world?

  She had no idea how long she stayed like that, curled up in the command chair doing her best not to cry. The comm remained silent apart from a few bursts of static, and she’d begun to worry that she’d imagined the whole thing… that Major Stephens was a figment of her imagination… when a metallic clunk reverberated through the ship.

  Shooting to her feet, she looked toward the ramp in the middle of the floor. Shit, Rynn lay half across it. When it opened, he’d fall out. Scrambling forward, she hooked her hands under his arms to drag him out of the way. And failed miserably. He weighed an absolute ton.

  “Damn… What do they feed you guys?” she grunted, readjusting her hold and using her legs to try and get some leverage. He didn’t move at first, but the more she grunted and pulled, he slowly began to slide over the metal deck. Sweat broke out down the center of her back and on her brow as she heaved. Finally, she got him out of the way, lying to one side of the ramp.

  “Gnnnnnnhhh…” He moaned slightly, his eyes opening just as the ramp hissed and started to lower.

  Jac squeaked and jumped back, putting as much distance as she could between them. If he came up swinging, she wanted to be well out of range. With a groan, he rolled over, holding a hand to the back of his head.

  “What did you do, female?” he rasped, trying to get to his feet. He couldn’t get his balance, though, staggering and going to his hands and knees. His blue eyes, still a little unfocused, sought hers and she saw the anger and hurt there.

  “I’m going home,” she told him, lifting her chin. Freedom was almost within reach, so why did she want to cry?

  “That.” She pointed at the floor as the ramp lowered. “Is Major Stephens and his team. They’re coming to take me and Lizzie home.”

  “This far out?” His eyes widened in alarm and he half staggered, half crawled toward the command console. “You stupid female! There are no Terran ships this far out. Whoever is coming up that ramp isn’t human!”

  Before he made it to the console, huge figures clad in black leather swarmed through the ever-widening gap between the ramp and the floor. Jac was grabbed, the world becoming a chaotic jumble of shouts and hard hands. She tried to fight back, screaming as she got a glimpse of Rynn going down under a multitude of blows, but it was no good. Within seconds she was subdued and made to kneel. Her assailants stepped back as someone walked up the ramp. She sucked in a breath as she recognized him. Tall and heavily built with a scar over one side of his face.

  It was the warrior who’d attacked them at Amanda’s house.

  “You’re not Major Stephens,” she gasped, as Rynn was forced to his knees next to her, his hands tied in front of him.

  “No,” he hissed. “This is Araal D’Corr. One of the dishonored. Good reconstruction job on the face, Araal. I barely recognized you. What did I hit you with? A tanaleth bolt or was it the dataran scythe? I never can remember.”

  “Dishonored is a matter of perspective,” Araal sneered, hatred shining in his dark eyes. “I do not call preferring not to fuck an animal or have it bear my young dishonorable. And yes, it’s amazing how a new face allows a man to walk unnoticed, don’t you think?”

  He was the polar opposite of Rynn, dark hair to blond, nearly black eyes to blue, and a vicious scar across his cheek that twisted one side of his face up into an awful grin. A shudder worked its way down Jac’s spine. This was the sort of warrior she’d feared claiming her whenever she’d thought about the Lathar. A cruel man who used brute strength and force to get his own way.

  “No,” Rynn inclined his head as though conceding the point to his opponent. Even bloodied and on his knees, he had a poise and aura of command that was hard to miss. How had she ever thought he was human? “But the way you and your clan went about it was.”

  “Fucking cattle needed culling,” Araal snapped, something dark moving in the backs of his eyes. “My father made the right call. They’re… abominations.” He looked Rynn up and down. “But you would feel sympathy for them, wouldn’t you? You’re one of them… oonat-born.”

  He threw the last word like an insult, the men around them chuckling as though he’d scored a point somehow. Rynn didn’t react, not even by a flicker of an eyelid, but Jac felt the tension in the air around him. She wanted to reach for him but daren’t. The look he’d shot her before they’d been boarded had spoken volumes. Whatever trust they’d had was gone. Shattered beyond repair.

  “You creatures make me sick,” Araal sneered, spitting on Rynn. The blond warrior didn’t move, not even to wipe the spittle from his cheek, but his blue eyes promised retribution.
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  Araal ignored him, turning his attention to Jac. “And these things are just as bad. Not. Lathar. No matter what that draanthic emperor says. He fucks the cattle anyway, so it’s no surprise he’s eager to switch out for something a little more appealing.”

  Leaning down, he grabbed her jaw in a cruel grip, forcing her to look up at him. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t like what he saw, his lip curling up. “Disgusting. Daaynal must really be desperate if he expects us to breed with such pathetic creatures!”

  Shoving her away, he watched without pity as she fell to the deck plating, stifling her cry of pain. “No matter, though, we won’t have to put up with your backward species for long. The new empire will rise and all non-Lathar will be wiped from existence.”

  “Yeah?” Jac lifted an eyebrow as she clambered back up to her knees. “I’m no expert on your species but even we’ve heard about you lot on Earth. For a new empire, you’re going to need numbers, which means kids. And the last time I checked, most of you are lacking the necessary equipment for that.” She tilted her head curiously. “Unless of course, you’re really cult-like and your leaders haven’t explained the birds and the bees to you…”

  “Silence!” Araal snarled. “I’ll hear no more of this idiotic prattle. Take them to the cells.”

  They were screwed. Big time.

  Fury simmered through Rynn’s veins as two of Araal’s men dragged him along the corridor toward the cells. He wasn’t an idiot. If D’Corr didn’t have plans for the pair of them, they’d already have been sucking cold, hard space. The details of those plans worried him.

  But, they were alive and while they were, there was always a chance. So he kept his eyes open as they were dragged through the corridors. Looking for something, anything, that might prove useful later. You never knew when even the slightest little thing could make the difference in a life and death situation.