Alien Warlord's Passion (Warlord Brides Index Book 2)

by Nancey Cummings

  “One of my sons will take you for a mate,” Oran announced as casually as if he were talking about the local sports team. Mene huffed. Lorran’s hand strayed to her thigh. She knocked his hand away and shifted closer to Mene.

  “No, thank you,” Rosemary said as politely as possible. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

  “I think an alien dad would be cool,” Michael announced, helping himself to his third bowl of ice cream and mashed potatoes.

  “Mene is the Enforcer for the Council,” Tani said, her tone implying a prestigious position.

  “And I have a vital role in the security of my clan on the Judgment. It’s the largest battlecruiser from Sangrin,” Lorran said.

  “You work for our brother,” Mene grumbled.

  “And you work for our father,” Lorran replied as his hand strayed back to her thigh.

  Enough was enough. She grabbed the metal spoon and smacked it across the back of his hand. Lorran yelped.

  “What did he do?” Mene demanded.

  “Do not listen to him,” Lorran said, cradling his hand to his chest. “He is just upset that I am the more attractive brother.”

  “You touched her without invitation.” Mene ground out the words, as if they were the vilest thing he could say. She hated to agree with him. Lorran’s flirting grew bolder, and it wasn’t cute.

  “She did not protest.”

  “Seriously? I keep knocking your hands away! Stop touching me.” Rosemary pointed a finger at her sister. “Is this why you brought me here? To hook me up these fu—” Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Fudging jackwagons?” She stumbled over the last words.

  “That’s a good one,” Michael said. “Jackwagon. Jack. Wagon. Jackwagon.”

  Mene stood from the table with haste, knocking it with his knees. The dishes clattered menacingly. Rosemary snatched the glass of wine before it spilled. Tani sipped at her own glass, unconcerned.

  Mene grabbed Lorran by the horn and pulled the man up. “Not the horn! Not the horn,” Lorran protested, batting away his brother’s hand.

  “An honorable male does not touch a female without permission.”

  “Hey! I can handle myself,” she started, but the two brothers ignored her. Lorran pushed at Mene and kicked him in the legs. Mene took his opportunity and punched Lorran square in the face.

  Lip split, the younger male grinned with a manic gleam. He lunged and grappled. The two brothers fell to the floor.

  Oran watched the display with boredom. Tani ignored them completely, refilling her glass of wine.

  “Do something.” Hazel tugged on her husband’s arm.

  “They have always been like this. Let them work it out.”

  Holidays with the family: always stressful, no matter what planet you were on.

  Mene

  Dinner went as well as he could have hoped. His mate continued to mispronounce his name, the Terran food was repulsive, and his brother flirted shamelessly. He also failed to get a satisfactory answer about the nature of a crayon and how it related to him.

  Chapter Four

  Rosemary

  The mattress shifted, and a familiar weight scrambled over her back.

  “Are you awake, Mommy?”

  Pinned, she couldn’t pretend to sleep. “You know, I’m old, and this is going to wreck my back.”

  Michael scrambled off, all knees and elbows. “Aunt Hazel is making pancakes.”

  “Real pancakes or cakes made out of something weird?” Her stomach rumbled at the promise of real food. A handful of snacks yesterday and a bite of ice cream were not enough to fuel the body of a grown woman.

  “Hurry up, or Uncle Seeran and Uncle Lorran will eat them all.”

  Uncle Lorran, huh?

  “What are you doing up so early?” Normally Rosemary had to drag her son out of bed, kicking and screaming. Her honey bunny was not a morning person.

  “Hurry up!” He leaped out of bed and took the blankets with him, leaving her bare legs exposed to the air. Typically she slept in a T-shirt and panties. Last night had been no different.

  “Get back here, you little monster,” Rosemary growled, chasing Michael out of the room. He dropped the blankets and ran down the hall, cackling. She bent over to retrieve the discarded blankets. “Sure, you think it’s funny now, but I know the lady in charge of your allowance!”

  A door down the hall opened, and Mene stepped out. He smirked, eyes sweeping up from her feet. “Do Terrans bellow every morning or that just you?”

  Rosemary couldn't find the words to respond because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and it just short-circuited her brain. His biceps were as thick as her thighs. Mesmerized, she watched them flex as he planted one hand on the wall and leaned.

  So much skin...

  He licked his lips.

  Hand over heart, he licked his lips like she was breakfast.

  Rosemary tugged the shirt over her rump as best as she could and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it and placed a hand at the base of her throat. She didn’t appreciate the way her pulse raced or the way her skin tingled.

  Stupid jerk. Why’d he have to be so sexy?

  Stupid brain, not working because of some pecs, abs, and tattoos.

  She’d feel better after a shower. The hot water might not ease all her tension, but she was used to ignoring her body’s desires. Single parenthood and seven-year-olds did not make for the most robust dating life.

  The dust of two worlds clung to her. Fixtures in the cleansing room were self-explanatory but Mahdfel-sized. A toilet was a toilet, even if she did have to hop up on it. The controls for the shower were embedded into the tiles, but otherwise, it was a regular shower, just very tall and wide. She could fit three of herself in there.

  The shower, coupled with a solid night’s sleep, drove away the memories of last night’s chaotic dinner. Clean, dressed and feeling like a person again, Rosemary planned to make the most of the day.

  Soft winter sunlight streamed into the room. She tied up her clothes and made the bed, returning the guest room to a near-perfect state.

  A shout outside drew her to the window.

  Purple-hued men worked in the vineyard, moving at a steady pace down the rows. Some carried baskets heaped with frozen green grapes. A certain man with more muscle than manners drew her eye. He wore no shirt and his light layer of perspiration gleamed in the sunlight.

  Lorran approached, also shirtless. There was snow on the ground. Didn’t that call for clothes? The younger man said something and Mene nodded before amicably slapping his back. Whatever hard feelings that existed between the brothers had vanished overnight.

  Lorran had a tall, lean build compared to his brother. Tattoos spread across his shoulders and back, the ink dark against his skin. The exact shade shifted with the shadows, from plum to boysenberry to sangria. Paired with his long, distinctly not military regulation hair, he had the casual air of trouble. Fun trouble, but not the kind of fun that appealed to her.

  Her eyes kept going back to Mene. Now, that grumpy purple meanie was her flavor of fun. Unfortunately, with her track record, she was drawn to the jerks. Something about a bad attitude and a sour disposition paired with rock hard muscles made her ovaries stupid and her vagina tingle.

  He was the opposite of his brother. Tight, close-cropped hair and a large build, every move screaming military precision. His tattoos, just as black against lavender skin, had purpose and order. She didn’t understand the characters of the tattoos, but her brain recognized it as language. A vicious, ragged scar graced his lower back, where the kidney would be on a human. She wondered if the same thing that gave him that scar also gave him the ones on his face.

  Mesmerized, she watched his shoulders bunch and flex as he harvested the fruit. A little voice told her it was wrong to watch him like a piece of meat. She didn’t appreciate it when he and his brother fought over her like one.

  Rosemary pulled herself away from the window. She did not come to Sangrin to flirt or hook up wit
h a stranger. She came to visit her sister and spend time with the family. Getting hot and bothered about a gorgeous piece of man meat wasn’t on the agenda.

  But he was a delicious piece of meat, she whined. Absolutely tasty and gorgeous, as long as the purple meanie kept his mouth shut.

  Lorran wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t come on so strong. She’d probably like him as a friend, though. She felt zero chemistry with him.

  Mene, though…

  If only he kept that mouth closed.

  Mene

  The harvest of frozen fruit was a never-ending task. Drones that normally did such work produced too much heat. The fruit needed to remain frozen and thaw only at the pressing. Normally, he did not mind the tedious work as it occupied his body and allowed his mind to achieve a restful, meditative state. He could even ignore his younger brother and his incessant chattering.

  Today, he thanked the stars that it kept Lorran occupied and away from Rosemary.

  “I fear my innate charm prevents me from truly connecting with females,” Lorran said. Mene grunted but made no reply, which only encouraged his brother. “Not only are they dazzled by my astounding physique, but my wit and charm beguile them. They are too overwhelmed to engage in meaningful conversation.”

  “You mistake making noise with your mouth with saying anything of importance,” Mene replied. “Speak less.”

  “You are grumpier than usual today.”

  “I am spending more time with you than usual today.”

  Lorran shook his head with a grin but, thankfully, worked in silence.

  He shouldn’t like the female. The vision of her in nothing but a tunic that barely covered the generous swell of her ass haunted him. He shouldn't like her any more than the other females his mother had dragged home in a misguided attempt at matchmaking. He definitely shouldn't like her more than the two females who turned up unannounced at his door, from the Bride Registry, claiming to be his match.

  They way they had looked at him when they realized what they were matched too… He sent them back immediately.

  Mene had always been resolute that any mate of his would be one of his one choosing, not one delivered to him randomly by a genetic test. He did not trust the technology used by the Bride Registry that paired Mahdfel warriors to their female mates. The test guaranteed nothing beyond a viable pregnancy. It could not determine if he would get along with his mate or merely tolerate her presence. The test could certainly not tell him if he would love his mate.

  In some ways, he preferred the older method of hunting out a mate by scent.

  Rosemary's scent did have a certain appeal, fresh and inviting.

  "What is that look for?" Lorran asked, elbowing him. "You look dumber than usual."

  "There is no look," Mene mumbled, focusing on his work. The cold numbed his fingers and harvesting the fruit required a delicate touch. He could not afford to be careless.

  Mene had turned away two females matched to him by the Bride Registry. If he could resist their scent, he could resist one Terran female.

  Yes, she stood toe-to-toe with him and did not back down in the face of his less than amiable disposition. Yes, she showed no outward distress at his scarred visage.

  It meant nothing. He could resist her until the holiday was over, and then he would be back to his duties when she returned to Earth.

  He remained firm in his resolve to resist her, despite how his instinct clawed at him to claim the female as his mate.

  He was more than his instinct. His life would be more than random happenstance. His mate would be his choice, nothing else.

  Rosemary

  “I’m mad at you. You’re trying to set me up.”

  “You can’t be mad at me, I’m pregnant.” Hazel’s eyes went wide and watered as if she might cry. Her bottom lip trembled, and she placed a hand on her stomach for emphasis.

  “Don’t play the pregnancy card with me. You know that won’t work.”

  Tani produced a small paper notepad. “Is this pregnancy card for notification? Does it come with certain rights and privileges? Or is it like a thank you card?”

  “Knock off the adorable tourist routine. You’re not fooling anyone,” Hazel said, exasperation coloring her voice. The trembling lip and watering eyes vanished.

  “She didn’t know it was a routine.” Tani rolled her eyes in a completely human gesture.

  “Wait, are you putting me on? Horseradish ice cream wasn’t a charming misunderstanding?” These two had some explaining to do.

  “That was very much on purpose,” Tani said.

  “Well, I meant for it to be dessert, not the entire meal. But I did not bring you here to play matchmaker,” Hazel said. “Please don’t be mad.”

  Rosemary eyed the plate of pancakes on the table. “Are those for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they’re ordinary pancakes? No surprise ingredients?”

  “Regular ol’ pancakes.”

  She helped herself to a short stack. She couldn’t remember the last time someone cooked breakfast for her. “Talk to me after pancakes. My blood sugar is low.”

  “Ah, the hangry,” Tani said with a nod.

  Stunned, Rosemary fumbled with her fork. “She doesn't understand that ice cream is not a meal, but she understands hangry?”

  Hazel shrugged. “I’m grumpy when I’m hungry.”

  ***

  “Let’s walk. I need to stretch my legs,” Hazel said.

  Her alien husband hovered at her side. “You do not want to tire yourself. Remember, you already cooked one meal.”

  “The nurse said moderate exercise was good for me. If I just sit around doing nothing, I’ll lose muscle.”

  “I do not like it.” He pressed his lips together in displeasure.

  Hazel patted his arm and ignored his grumbling. “A walk around the grounds. Not far. We’re not hiking down to the river.”

  “Do not go to the river! The cranc do not hibernate, and they will be on the hunt for prey.”

  “Fine, no river. Just around the vineyard. I want Rosemary to see the lanterns.”

  He nodded. “I will accompany you. Allow me a moment to retrieve my weapons.”

  Weapons. Plural. “How dangerous is this place?” Rosemary asked.

  Hazel grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. “It’s not. The Mahdfel are just overprotective.”

  Near midday, the red sun sat high in the blue sky, warming her skin, but a biting cold lingered in the shadows. Her breath steamed in the frigid air but walking kept her temperature up. Through the white snow covering the ground, the vegetation that hadn’t died from the cool weather retained its greenish-purple color.

  The house sat on top of a hill and offered stunning views of the surrounding hills and valleys. A blue ribbon glimmered at the bottom of the valley. This was easily the nicest place she’d ever been in her life. She felt so absolutely uncultured even thinking that, but it was true. Her childhood had been a series of refugee camps and her adulthood a series of barely acceptable apartments and houses in neighborhoods were people worked hard to just get by. Her house and life waiting back on Earth didn’t hold a candle to the breathtaking scenery.

  “Why are they doing that today?” Rosemary asked.

  “Luck. Golau is a festival of light. The lanterns gather luck, as far as I understand.”

  Seeran jogged up, rifle slung across his back and a sword strapped to his hips. Lorran trailed behind him. Wonderful. He brought back-up. Seriously, what was so dangerous that Seeran needed a rifle and a sword?

  “Tell her the story,” Hazel said. “It’s really sweet.”

  Seeran rubbed his chin, and a stern expression settled over his face. Rosemary had seen the same expression on Mene’s face. However, Seeran’s eyes regarded his wife warmly. She wondered if Mene would ever look at her with the same sort of devotion.

  Wow. That thought came out of left field. She’d known the man less than twenty-four hours. She didn’t want anything
from him.

  Lorran linked arms with her. “I will tell the story because it is sweet, as am I.”

  Hazel groaned. “Keep it clean, mister.”

  Lorran cleared his throat and recited, “At the dawn of time, before there were stars or planets or life, there existed the Eternal Mother, Ti Ata, and the Eternal Father, Te Oro. In the darkness, Te Oro was alone. The spark of creation, all potential life, dwelled within him, but he was incomplete without his mate. From the depths of the great darkness, the spark called out to the Eternal Mother. We celebrate Golau in the depths of winter, when the nights grow shorter.”

  “Like the Eternal Father calling to his mate,” Rosemary said. It was a sweet story. She didn’t know what to make of men being the source of all life, though. That seemed a bit backward. “And the lanterns?”

  “Light in the dark. It brings us good fortune and luck in love.” Lorran winked at her.

  Rosemary rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna need a lot of lanterns.”

  A hearty laugh ripped out of Seeran. He gave her a slap on the back that sent her stumbling. “You did not tell me your sister was funny. I like her!”

  “I still don’t believe you’re not playing matchmaker,” Rosemary said.

  “Hand to God, I’m not,” Hazel said.

  “Our mother is, though,” Lorran added.

  “She swore she would not,” Seeran said.

  “And that is why she insisted we all be home for Golau, for the first time in years, because she is innocent?”

  “That is suspicious,” Seeran admitted, clearly uncomfortable criticizing his mother.

  “Mom. Mom!”

  Rosemary turned to the sound of Michael’s shouts. She recognized his excited voice, not his panicked or frightened voice. “Honey, don’t shout.”

  Mene trotted up, Michael on his shoulders. The boy had either hand on the curve of Mene’s horns, steering him. The purple warrior looked utterly insulted, but the joy on Michael’s face was priceless. Easily worth the dings to one warrior’s pride.