Defending their Mate: a Sci-Fi alien romance (Tharan Warrior Menage Book 6)

by Kallista Dane

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  Defending Their Mate

  A Sci-Fi Alien Romance

  Tharan Warrior Ménage Book 6

  By Kallista Dane

  Copyright March 2018 Defending Their Mate by Kallista Dane

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Please don’t participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material. It’s a violation of the author’s rights.

  Editor: Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing

  Cover Artist: Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Published in the United States of America

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While references might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  FREE book

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

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  Sneak Peek - Her Savage Mate

  A Note from Kallista

  About the Author

  More Hot Romances by Kallista Dane

  Prologue

  She lay naked before him.

  He ran his palm over her smooth bronze skin. Stroked the waterfall of raven hair flowing down her back, gleaming in the flickering light of the braziers. Lowered his head and breathed in her essence wafting from the mass of tight curls between her thighs.

  She grabbed his head with both hands. Drew it down between her legs. "Yes,” she breathed. “Please, yes, please.”

  His gyron surged. He grabbed the backs of her thighs and spread her legs wide apart. Licked her once, slowly, tantalizingly, drawing a low moan from her.

  The sound shattered the last vestiges of his self-control. He rammed his tongue deep into her slit, hungering to taste her slick juices. She cried his name, bucking and writhing under him.

  His cock swelled. He reveled in sheer masculine power, raw lust pumping through his veins. The knowledge he could take her to the height of passion. He moved his lips to the tiny bud that was her center of pleasure. Licked it, kissed it, then took it in his mouth and sucked.

  She screamed. A deep throaty sound torn from the depths of her soul. Inspired, he flicked his tongue back and forth over the hard nub then sucked it again.

  Bucking wildly, she gripped his bald head. He made a rumbling sound deep in his throat and shifted his grip to the cheeks of her ass, lifting her hips in the air so she was powerless to resist. He alternated dipping his tongue into her pussy then flicking it back and forth over the swollen bud until she was panting hard, making wordless little cries, trembling uncontrollably.

  He drew it into his mouth, sucking hard. She shattered. Bucked her hips, shoved her mound greedily into his face, raked his back with her nails as she screamed and shuddered. She tried to pull his head away, but he grabbed both her wrists, holding them immobile, and sucked harder.

  Her second orgasm was even more intense than the first. He slid up and buried himself in her pussy while it was still spasming. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Screamed his name.

  He let out a muffled roar and began pumping in and out. Hard and fast and deep, like a randy young stag. Her pussy was so hot. So tight. Pulsing around his shaft, rocketing him higher with every thrust.

  He stopped. Drew out. Locked his arms on either side of her, balancing his weight over her. Her beautiful dark eyes flew open. He saw puzzlement, a flicker of disappointment. He gave her a wicked grin and slid his full length in. Slowly, deliberately. Inch by inch, while she writhed and ground her hips against him, trying to draw him deeper. Letting her know he was in control of her passion as well as his own.

  He watched her face the whole time. Loving the way her eyes glazed over with lust, the way her mouth opened, her tongue ran over her lips. Teasing him, tempting him even now.

  He lowered his head and captured her mouth then rammed his cock balls deep into her sweet heat.

  His body tensed. He closed his eyes and claimed her as his. Spurted gyron-laden cum into her, his cock pulsing every time her muscles spasmed around it, deep in the throes of her own ecstasy. Muffled her wild scream with his mouth crushing hers.

  Aartan rolled over and reached for her. His fingers found only a tangle of bedcovers. He opened his eyes and groaned. A dream, just like all the others. He’d been young again, his body strong and whole, just like in all the dreams. Balancing over her on two powerful arms. Sweeping her into a passionate embrace, pleasuring her with the combination of a young man’s ardor and an older man’s skill.

  The night of passion may have been a dream, but the gyron surging through his body was all too real. His cock was swollen, and his balls ached like those of a young lad after being teased and tormented for hours by a naughty wench. He shoved the covers aside, reached down with his good hand, and wrapped his fingers around the shaft. With a groan, he closed his eyes, imagined it was hers, and started stroking.

  Chapter One

  Aliya

  She gasped then tried to hide it with a muffled cough when Aartan glanced her way.

  Her body had betrayed her again. It happened every time she got near him. Her pussy clenched then flooded. Though her rational mind could explain the cause of the physiological reaction, the wave of raw lust flooding over her was just as shocking every time.

  That damn gyron. A secret weapon Tharan males wielded, able to sweep an unsuspecting human female off her feet without so much as a touch or even a smoldering look. All it took was exposure to the potent pheromones he exuded. One whiff of his scent, and she became a bitch in heat. Pulse racing, clit throbbing, pussy dripping wet.

  She couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. Cass, Kyra, Saige – and now Delta. They’d all told her about the intoxicating effect of being near their Tharan warriors. And only theirs.

  Apparently gyron wasn’t a one-scent-fits-all. Each pair of Tharan twins had their own distinctive chemical mix. When they met up with a human female who was a perfect genetic match, their scent awakened the most primitive part of her brain. The amygdala, driven by three basic needs. Feed. Fight. Fuck. And since fucking was essential to the survival of the species, unless said female was starving or in mortal danger, the need to fuck always won.

  Her rational mind knew all of this. She could quote the science to explain it in detail. But that primal brain still drove her body. She watched him
whenever she could sneak a look. Found herself wondering whether his cock was as big as the others she’d heard about.

  Aartan still bore the powerful physique of the fearsome Tharan warrior he’d once been. Roughly seven feet tall, he towered over her. Like all the Tharans she’d met, his face was unlined, making it difficult to guess how old he was. Tharans enjoyed a longer life span than humans. The rugged jaw, the chiseled cheekbones, could have belonged to any warrior.

  Only his eyes gave away his age. Dark-blue pools hinting of boundless joy and even greater sorrow spoke volumes about what he’d seen, what he’d endured. She’d heard the rumors. Whispered comments about how he’d been badly injured in battle, how he always wore the long-sleeved black tunic under his lab coat to hide his withered left arm.

  Humans and Tharans had evolved in a similar fashion, drawing their mate by aroma. Aliya had been around many pairs of warrior twins since she’d boarded the Gemini. The others had a pleasant scent, but only Aartan made her pulse race and her pussy clench.

  She’d been told if she reacted to him so strongly, his gyron surged when he was near her. That he, too, felt swept away by a powerful current. She sneaked a glance at his face. She certainly couldn’t tell it by looking at him. The plains of his face had been stripped of any excess padding over the years. His expression was cold, jaw clenched, mouth set in a firm line.

  She had a wild desire to get up on tiptoe, throw her arms around his neck, and plant a kiss on those stern lips. Do something, anything, that would get him to look at her as a female. To really see her, instead of treating her as an alien colleague from a less highly-evolved world. Or, worse, ignoring her entirely.

  Instead, she stifled the impulse and went back to delivering a report on the chart he held. “Delta has adapted to cybermodification much faster than I expected. When I saw her last, she said she’d been working out with Zandyr and Zhynn. She’s even developed sensations in her left leg that her brain interprets as feelings of heat and cold.”

  He nodded absently, flipping pages. “Excellent.”

  “Your cybertechnology is far more advanced than anything we have on Earth,” she continued. “I’m amazed at how seamlessly her prosthetic leg blends with the skin on her thigh. If I didn’t know her leg had been amputated above the knee and replaced, I’d never have guessed it by looking at her or watching her move. You’re a skilled surgeon,” she added.

  He looked up at last. Met her eyes. “Thank you, Aliya. It means a lot to have someone with your special abilities say that.”

  The look in his eyes made her shiver. Dark. Hungry. Just a flash, then it was gone. So quick, she might have imagined it.

  Aartan had pegged her from the first. While her fellow Earthers knew she had both a medical degree and training as a psychologist, she’d never told any of them where and how she’d spent her early years. She hadn’t had to tell him. He’d guessed it the first time they shook hands.

  “You’re a Healer,” he’d said, hanging on to her hand a fraction longer than politeness decreed. The shocking heat of his gyron sizzled on her skin.

  She drew in her breath and pulled it back, trying to hide her reaction to his touch. “Why do you say that?”

  He bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me. I did not mean to violate your privacy, nor did I mean any offense. Healer is the term my people use for a sentient being with unique skills. One who can mend both the body and the mind.”

  He hadn’t touched her again since that day, always being careful to leave plenty of space between them, whether in the lab or at the bedside of one of their patients. Today he’d invited her to counsel a patient – one of the warriors who’d been injured months ago when the Tharans stormed the Luna and rescued Cass.

  “I’ve done all I can medically for Levhon,” he explained. “His body is healed, but he still suffers excruciating pain. He refuses to speak of it to me, since he views it as a weakness he can overcome by sheer will. I believe someone with your abilities may be able to reach into his mind and help him find a way to cope with his emotional wounds. My people may be skilled in combat, but Tharan warriors are not renowned for their sensitivity,” he finished, shooting her a wry grin.

  Levhon was waiting for her in Aartan’s office. He sat stiffly in a straight-backed wooden chair, his back to the door. Instead of taking a seat behind the desk, she pulled up another chair and sat beside him.

  “Hello, Levhon. Aartan tells me you’re still suffering from headaches,” she said.

  He kept his head down, staring at his shoes. “Yes, Officer Rashadaman.”’

  She smiled. “Please, call me Aliya. I don’t have any special ranking on a Tharan ship.” She kept her voice soft and low. “Did Aartan tell you about me and how I work?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “May I take your hand?”

  Like all the Tharan warriors she’d met, Levhon was huge, his body packed with muscle. But she’d met enough of them to know she had nothing to fear. He nodded wordlessly and extended one huge paw. She clasped it between both of hers and closed her eyes.

  A stabbing pain hit her. Sudden and sharp, like a dagger thrust into her skull, right between the eyes. She forced herself to take a deep, slow breath then another. Acknowledging the pain but refusing to bow to it. Gradually, she was able to discern another, deeper ache below it. A pain in the soul, not the body.

  She opened her eyes, looked into Levhon’s. Saw bleak despair. “May I go further?” she asked.

  He nodded again and turned his head away.

  Aliya never breached a patient’s conscious mind without permission. Though she possessed the gift, she knew using it could be the cruelest violation of someone’s privacy. She held his hand lightly between hers, synchronized her breathing with his. Using skills she’d honed as a child, she slowed her heartbeat. Stopped it then allowed it to resume, picking up the rhythm so it pulsed in tandem with his.

  When they were one in body, she took it a step further. Willed her mind to go blank then allowed his thoughts to pour in.

  The pain hit her again, this time a crushing blow. The agony of finding his sister after all those months of searching then losing her forever.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Levhon. There was nothing you could have done. Sira chose to throw herself between you and Magnus’s photon blazar. She loved you enough to give her life for yours. You’ve been living with the guilt ever since.”

  “I’m a Tharan.” His voice shook with the effort of holding back tears. “Sworn to protect my family and my brother warriors. To lay my life down for them. And instead, my sister, my baby sister, took the blast meant for me. She died in my arms. I helped save a ship full of aliens, but I couldn’t save her.” He pulled away from her, covered his face, and burst into gut-wrenching sobs.

  She let him cry. Didn’t offer meaningless phrases of comfort. She sat with him, silently acknowledging the depth of his grief and pain, their hearts beating in tandem, until his tears subsided. Only then did she speak.

  “Sira loved you. She gave up her life to save yours, knowing full well what she was doing,” Aliya said. “Your sister had the heart of a true Tharan warrior. Now it is your task to honor her gift. It’s time to let go of the pain. Forgive yourself. Live long and well, love with all your heart – and know that one day when you’re called home to dwell with the Sacred Ones, you’ll see her again.

  “You can believe me when I say she’d have wanted you to enjoy your life instead of torturing yourself over what happened,” she assured him, absently fingering the scar on her left cheek. “I knew your sister. Magnus kept all of us locked up together for months. She used to talk about you and Lyam. She loved you both so much.

  “She laughed about how the two of you teased her when she was a little girl,” Aliya went on. “I remember one story she told me about the time you were both roughhousing with her one day. She got so mad she threw your mother’s favorite crystal vase at Lyam. She said it shattered into a thousand pieces. She was terr
ified, but you took the blame.”

  Levhon nodded. “I remember that. She was so afraid of getting spanked by our fathers. They could be very stern at times. So, I stepped in. It really was our fault. Mine and Lyam’s. If we hadn’t been teasing her unmercifully, she’d never have pitched that vase at him.” His mouth curved up. “Lyam was lucky it didn’t hit him. It would have knocked him out cold! She’d pestered us for months until we took her out in the woods and taught her how to hurl rocks at a target until she could hit it dead center four times out of five. By the gods, she was a feisty little thing!”

  They sat for hours. She coaxed Levhon into sharing precious memories, bringing his sister to life once more so he could say goodbye to her properly. Celebrate her life and mourn her passing. When she rose, she knew though the warrior’s soul would grieve Sira forever, his body could finally begin to heal.

  Chapter Two

  Aartan

  He’d been pacing the hall outside his office, for the last hour, like a lovesick lad hoping to catch a glimpse of the lovely young maiden who’d stolen his heart.

  Aartan was disgusted with himself. He was too intelligent to engage in such behavior – and far too old and broken for her. But last night’s dream was still with him, and spilling his seed hadn’t reduced the fever in his blood. So he paced and waited, tried to look like he had somewhere important to go every time another crew member passed him in the ship’s corridor.

  He was heading away from his office when he heard the door open behind him. He forced himself to turn slowly.

  By the Sacred Ones, she was breathtaking. Her lustrous raven hair wasn’t hanging down her back, the way it did in his dream. Instead, she’d twisted it into a casual knot at the back of her head. Small wisps escaped, framing almond-shaped brown eyes set in an oval face.