Consumed: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Kalixian Warriors Book 6)

by Presley Hall

  Tycran holds out his hand to help me up. Without a word, I take it, scrambling to my feet before the broad-shouldered Kalixian smoothly snatches up the case with his other hand.

  “Let’s go,” he says urgently. “Before there’s more trouble.”

  The elevator door slides open with a hydraulic hiss. Tycran and I bolt for it at the same time, leaping inside. The interior of the elevator isn’t exactly like those on Earth, so I leave the pressing of buttons to Tycran. The last thing we need is for me to input something wrong in the control panel and send us hurtling in the wrong direction.

  Tycran releases my hand to tap something on the large control panel, and the elevator car lurches downward. My heart pounds in my chest as visions of the elevator being stopped by a contingent of security officers flash through my head. Tycran looks cool and collected as always, but I can tell from the way his eyes are fixed on the door that he’s nervous too.

  I know him, I realize with a start. Really know him.

  My stowaway voyage on the ship served the purpose I wanted it to, after all. We truly got to know each other.

  That… and so much more than I bargained for.

  As the elevator descends, Tycran fiddles with the combination of the briefcase, trying to open it so we can leave the bulkiest part of our prize behind. But it won’t open. It’s going to have to be bashed with something heavy, and we’re going to have to get out of here with it in our possession.

  The second the elevator doors open on the deck, we hurry out, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. We’ve just reached the boarding area when I hear a shout behind us.

  “Hey! That’s the one who started the fight!”

  My stomach clenches as another, closer voice joins the first. “Stop! You, there!”

  Tycran glances at me, his eyes burning as he utters a single word. “Run.”

  Then he swings the briefcase, tossing it to me.

  Oh, shit.

  I don’t know how I manage to catch it. I’ve been terrible at this sort of thing my whole life. But I manage to pluck it neatly out of the air, wincing at the heaviness of it as it twists my wrist a little. As the angry shouts grow closer, I grab my skirt, hike it up above my knees, and bolt for the exit.

  Tycran is right behind me. I can hear his heavy footfalls, and I let the sound urge me onward. I don’t want to leave him behind, but I know that if he told me to run, there’s a reason for it. So I do what I promised I would from the very beginning of this insane adventure—I follow his instructions.

  Clutching the briefcase, I race through the crowded docking bay toward where our own ship is waiting. My lungs burn as I run, and I thank my years of dancing for the fact that I can sprint full-out in a pair of heels without twisting an ankle.

  The second the ship comes into view, the hatch opens, and I know Tycran must’ve activated it remotely. I hear him grunt behind me as I bolt up the ramp, probably holding off some pursuer who got too close. There’s another grunt and a heavy thud, and then Tycran is racing onboard the ship after me.

  The second he’s inside, he starts closing the hatch, punching the controls to get us out of our docking bay.

  We planned out this part in advance—we’ll circle the planet and then re-dock closer to Rok’s warehouse to shorten the distance we have to travel with the bombs in our possession. It will also make it more difficult for either the buyer or the seller to track us down.

  As the ship pulls out, I lean against the wall, laughing and almost giddy with adrenaline as I gasp for breath. Once Tycran has the controls set, he turns to face me, one of those rare, gorgeous smiles on his face.

  “You fought well,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “It wasn’t all that good,” I protest, but I can’t help but feel a flush of pride at his words. I know I fought without much technique, nothing like him. But I certainly tried. I wasn’t willing to give up, that’s for sure.

  “You’re scrappy,” Tycran says with a smirk. “And that counts for something.”

  I realize, as I grin back at him and try to catch my breath, that I actually had fun working on this heist with him. Everything about it, even when it seemed like it might go wrong, was heart-pounding and adventurous and just… fun.

  And the distraction was good for me. It kept me from getting sucked into over-analyzing my feelings, and it helped keep the raging desire, which I can still feel just below the surface, at bay.

  The short trip to a docking bay closer to Rok’s is smooth and without any complications. Tycran stays glued to the controls, keeping an eye out as he guides us into the new bay, and once we’re safely settled in and have changed out of the clothes we wore on the cruise ship, he goes to a supply closet and digs out a heavy metal tool that resembles a very large wrench.

  “Back up,” he warns me. “Something might fly off.”

  I know Tycran is strong, but nothing can quite prepare me for the sight of him swinging the heavy metal wrench, his arm muscles flexing as he does. With one smooth motion, he breaks the lock on the briefcase.

  He’s right—a piece does go flying. I’m leaning forward curiously as he brings his hand down, and I jump aside with a squeak, flushing with embarrassment. I expect him to chide me for not paying attention, but he just laughs. It’s the most at ease I’ve ever seen him.

  Opening the top of the case, he fishes out the seeds. They’re held in a tiny package that could fit in the palm of my hand. It’s made of some clear material, allowing me to see the small mottled brown and green specks.

  Tycran holds it out to me, and I look at him, startled.

  “You have pockets in your dress,” he explains, gesturing at the red wrap dress that I’m now wearing.

  Oddly, even though I enjoyed dressing up in the sparkly gown and getting a hint of my old life back for the night, this dress feels warm and familiar, like putting on a broken-in pair of jeans or a comfy cardigan. The soft linen-like fabric feels like home. Even the scent of it—the green scent that Kalix always seems to have, even in the city—smells like home.

  Maybe I’ve gotten more attached to that place than I realized. And that makes me wonder, as I look up at Tycran’s handsome, chiseled features—would it be so bad to be attached to a Kalixian? I was looking for just a hookup… but would having more really be so terrible?

  “Are you sure you want me to carry them?” I ask, hefting the small packet in my hand.

  “Of course. I don’t exactly have anywhere to keep them.” He chuckles, gesturing at his loincloth.

  He changed out of the trousers and shirt as soon as we docked, and although I’m glad he’s comfortable, I almost wish he’d stayed in them. Seeing all of him on display now is more distracting than ever, because I’ve touched all of that warm, muscled skin. I’ve had it pressed up against me, so intimately that he’s literally been all but inside me. I’ve had him in my mouth. He’s heard the sounds I make when I come. It’s impossible to look at his barely clothed body and not think of all of that.

  Clearing my throat, I slip the seeds into the pocket of my dress, keeping my hand near the little packet so there’s no chance of it falling out.

  “I’m glad you trust me,” I tell him with a small smile as he hits the control to open the hatch.

  He looks over his shoulder at me, and his eyes have gone serious again, deep and blue. “I do,” he says simply. And then he strides out of the ship, and we’re once more in the heart of Hak Gavar.

  I stay close to him as we make the trek to Rok’s warehouse. I can feel the seeds like a weight in my pocket, the key to Tycran’s mission succeeding. As much as I appreciate his trust in me, I wish he’d kept them. It’s so much responsibility that it makes my heart pound in my throat, choking me until I feel almost like I can’t breathe. I can’t wait to hand them over to Rok.

  The strangely handsome alien answers Tycran’s knock plainly this time, with no dramatic appearance out of the shadows. He looks at Tycran with an eager expression, the rings around
his irises shining like burnished gold. “Do you have the seeds?”

  I fish the small packet out of my dress and hand it to him. “Here you go.”

  Rok stares down at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable. A dozen different emotions seem to flit through his eyes, but I can’t guess what any of them are.

  His fingers close carefully around the package containing the seeds as he looks back up at us. “Thank you. I honestly didn’t think you’d manage to get them.”

  “I hope that doesn’t mean you can’t fulfill your end of the deal.” Tycran’s voice is sharp, and I shiver a little. He’s not a hot-headed man, but if Rok tries to pull a fast one on us, it won’t end well for him.

  “No, I can,” the alien says quickly. He crosses the room and slips the seeds into a drawer, locking it before turning to face us again. “You need bombs that can destroy a nuclear core reactor. I can deliver that, and fairly quickly too. Especially since you brought me what no one else could have.”

  I glance at the wall next to us as he speaks, realizing that the vines covering it have flowered since the last time we were here. They were beautiful before, with their thick green leaves, but now they’re gorgeous, filling the room with a sweet aroma and bursting out in vibrant blooms of pink and blue.

  “You can look at the plants more closely if you want,” Rok offers. “They’re not poisonous… not those, at least. But I wouldn’t recommend touching any of them.”

  I step a little closer, peering at the huge flowers. They’re bigger than anything I’ve ever seen on Earth, wider than the palm of my hand, with shiny, thick petals that look as if they’d resist if you tried to tear them. I’m so entranced by them that it takes me a minute to realize that Tycran and Rok have stepped away, closer to the weapons maker’s workbench, and they’re talking in low, hushed voices.

  Carefully, not wanting to alert Tycran that I’m eavesdropping, I move a little closer and tilt my head in their direction, still looking at the flowers.

  “… getting those seeds was more dangerous than I expected. You can add on a little extra for that,” I hear Tycran say firmly.

  “What do you want? Another bomb? I don’t know if—”

  “No, not another bomb,” Tycran interrupts, and there’s a thread of urgency to his tone that makes me listen more closely. “I didn’t mean for Lucy—the woman with me—to be here. But she is, and I have to make sure she remains safe.”

  “Hak Gavar isn’t safe for any woman.”

  “I know.” Tycran blows out a frustrated breath. “I need you to ensure that she gets safe passage. Either to Kalix or back to Terra.”

  “She’s from Terra?” Rok snorts. “There aren’t any official shipping routes there, passenger or supplies. No one goes to Terra except smugglers and slavers.”

  “Kalix then.” Tycran bites out the words, clearly impatient. “But let her choose. If she wants to risk the transport back to Earth, then find the most trusted smuggler you know. But it’s her decision.”

  I glance surreptitiously toward them just in time to see Rok’s eyes narrow at Tycran speculatively. “And which would you prefer?”

  “Kalix,” Tycran answers without hesitation, his voice still low. “Without me to protect her, my brothers in arms will still make sure she’s safe.”

  My stomach drops, plummeting all the way to my toes as my blood runs cold.

  I don’t hear what Rok says after that, but my mind is spinning. The way Tycran is talking to the other alien makes panic flare in me, fear racing through my veins until I feel frozen to the spot, my heart hammering in my chest.

  He’s not planning on coming back.

  I know it in this moment, as surely as I’ve ever known anything. That’s why he didn’t want anyone else coming with him, why he was so angry with me, possibly why he even allowed himself to lose control and try to sleep with me last night on the cruise ship.

  His mission to destroy Oryn is a suicide mission.

  20

  Tycran

  I’m still hashing out Rok’s promise to make sure Lucy leaves Hak Gavar safely when I hear her footsteps. I glance over to see her storming toward us, her blue eyes bright with tears and her face furious.

  “No!” she snaps at me, her jaw set as she curls her fingers into fists. “You can’t do this!” She looks as if she’s going to burst into tears at any second, her breath coming in quick, short gasps.

  She’s obviously about to lose control, and I don’t want that happening in front of Rok. Whatever she has to say to me about the mission, or anything else, it’s best said in private.

  “I’ll be back for the bombs,” I tell Rok sharply. “And I mean what I said about the rest of the deal.”

  “No, he doesn’t!” Lucy blurts, her voice rising, but I grab her elbow before she can say anything else, steering her out of the warehouse and back out onto the street. I don’t say a word as I hustle her down the streets toward the nearby ship, my grip still firmly on her arm. I can see tears starting to streak down her face, but I’m not having this conversation until we’re in private.

  The moment the hatch shuts behind us, she turns on me, her eyes wild and tearful.

  “No!” she shouts again. “I’m not leaving here without you! And what the fuck are you planning, exactly? What haven’t you told me?”

  “Lucy—”

  I try to interrupt her, to get a word in, but she’s almost screaming now, her voice high and desperate.

  “No!” she repeats, shaking her head wildly. “You can’t do this if it means you’re going to die!”

  I freeze, my eyes meeting hers. She returns my gaze defiantly, gloriously beautiful in her anger despite the tears streaking down her face.

  “I would gladly give my life a thousand times over to protect the people I love,” I tell her quietly. “To protect my planet… to protect your planet, or any other planet from the Orkun, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do. There are things worth dying for, Lucy. This is one of them.”

  “You can’t.” She wipes at the tears on her cheeks, which are flowing more freely now. Her voice is lower, but still full of emotion. “You can’t do it, Tycran.”

  “And why not?” I challenge, looking down at her.

  She blinks for a moment, as if taken aback. Her jaw clenches, and she shakes her head. “Because. Because you… because I…”

  Her words trail off. For a heartbeat, we stare at each other, tension crackling in the air between us.

  And then, before I can say anything else, she throws herself into my arms, her hands going to either side of my face as she stretches up on her toes.

  Her lips crash onto mine, soft and warm, salty from her tears, and I can feel the need flowing through her, the sorrow, the fear. I can feel all of it as if they’re my own emotions.

  The force of our collision makes me stagger back a little, and my hands go to her waist instinctively, bracing us both. Her soft curves are warm beneath my palms. Her breasts press against my chest, her willing body arching against mine as her tongue slips past my lips and her fingers slide through my hair.

  It’s all too much for me to resist.

  My control, when it comes to her, is already gone. And beyond anything else—beyond being a warrior, or a Kalixian, or a loyal subject, I’m a man.

  A man who has found his Irisa… and has yet to claim her.

  My hands tighten on her waist, and she moans softly, the sound vibrating against my lips. I was hard from the moment her mouth touched mine, but that soft noise makes my cock throb, and I know in this instant that I have to have her.

  This woman, this beautiful, courageous, outspoken, brave woman, is my Irisa. And if I’m going to die in a few days destroying the Orkun, I at least want to do it with the memory of her engraved onto my mind, my hands, my skin, my very bones.

  I have fought all my life to be a warrior worthy of my title. A warrior worthy of Kalix. If I have earned nothing else, I’ve earned at least this. A few nights of happiness, of pleasure,
the things I’ve denied myself all my life. To know love, and the touch of another, before I sacrifice everything.

  With one swift motion, I pick her up. Her legs go around my waist as I wrap my arms around her, one hand delving into her soft blonde hair as I hold her mouth to mine. The sensation is dizzying, like nothing I’ve ever felt. Years ago, the one time I had a female, I remember her slipping off her dress, lounging back on the bed and waiting for me, her face carefully arranged in an expression of practiced anticipation. Even as inexperienced and nervous as I was then, I knew that she was only lying with me because of what I’d paid her.

  There was none of passion. None of this desperation.

  Even as I turn and walk blindly toward where I know the bedroom is, barely able to watch where I’m going, Lucy never stops kissing me. Her tears have stopped, replaced with the frantic movement of her mouth on mine, her hands running through my hair, stroking my scalp, my horns, my face, my neck. Every time she touches my horns, a shiver runs through me, and I can feel my cock twitch, harder than it’s ever been, except for perhaps last night on the cruise ship.

  By the time I get us inside the bedroom, my loincloth has been rendered useless, fallen to the side as my cock presses against the underside of Lucy’s thigh, the soft rub of her dress against my bare skin driving me mad. I need her naked, bare, all of her there for me to explore. I break the kiss as I climb onto the bed and lay her back against the pillows, looking down at her as I reach for the cord at her breasts.

  “Please, Tycran,” she murmurs huskily.

  It takes everything in me to ask, but I know it has to be said. “Are you sure?”

  My voice is deep and rough as I fix my gaze on hers, feeling my body and spirit both scream in protest. I need her more desperately than I’ve needed anything in my life… but she has to be willing. She has to know what this means.

  “Nothing has changed for me,” I murmur. “Not since the cruise ship.”

  Lucy nods, her soft, rosy lips parting as she stares up at me. “Yes. I know what I’m asking for. And I want it. I need you, Tycran. I can’t…”