Alien Romance: Grabbed By The Alien Lord: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Protectors Book 2)

by Aana Celestya

  “Nothing.” Apparently that answer wasn’t going to fly, lavender eyes stared unblinkingly at her. Amelia sighed. “I look like an actor in a porno.”

  The man’s brows bunched, “What is a ‘porno’?”

  “Are you serious?” Amelia stared at him her mouth agape. Is this because they have slaves?

  Chapter 3 … A Dark Word of Glittering Gems

  Before taking Amiilya beyond the safety of his home, Galtan had found a delicate loop of gold wire. She had watched him curiously as he had bent one of the ends in order to secure the other. Unfortunately, she realized that it was a brand of ownership when he had hooked the small tag he had received from the auction house on the loop.

  “Where are you planning on putting that?” Amiilya’s voice had been careful when she had asked.

  “You have pre-existing holes in your ears; the loop should be small enough to fit comfortably.” Galtan had noticed she had looked relieved at his answer before she took the loop and tag from him and hooked the ring through the lobe of her ear.

  “Where did you think it was going,” he couldn’t help but ask.

  “Other women were having piercings put into various places…”

  “No, Alahi, I have no intention of putting more holes in your body than you already have.”

  “Well, I am happy for that.” She said simply. A pensive expression crossed the woman’s beautiful face.

  “What is it?”

  “Just curiosity; and its eternal aim to kill an otherwise harmless cat.” Galtan cocked his head to the side and stared at the woman.

  What in all of the stars does that mean?

  “What are you curious about?” He hoped that his own confusion would be clarified in the course of her explanation.

  “Oh. I was just wondering where we are going.”

  Galtan contemplated the woman, internally shaking his head, he hated to think what another being would have don had she asked them that question. He would have to keep a close eye on her. Amiilya was obviously an intelligent woman; Galtan just hoped that she would have the practical sense to refrain from being obviously independent outside of his home.

  “A clothier first. After that I have to check in at the Pavathi.”

  “That one didn’t translate…” his human interjected. Galtan searched for a way to define the Pavathi.

  “Pavathi is the name of the center of the military governance here, on Amirak-Ren.”

  “Oh, ok. Do you work there? I mean, are you a member of the planet’s military force.”

  “As I explained earlier, I am the Lord Commander of the Armies of Amirak-Ren.” Galtan was carful in his phrasing – he suspected that his human was of the impression that his title was one of several, not an exclusive title.

  “Yes, but that is a title. Titles on Earth can mean many things,” Amiilya stared at Galtan a moment. “Is that not the case here?”

  “Amirak-Ren is a planet greatly run by military forces – there is a monarchical family, but they are rarely involved in the actual day to day management of the planet.”

  “Meaning,” she pressed. Galtan sighed, but realized that it would be in both or their best interests to take care of the explanations now, in private.

  Perhaps if I am upfront, I can convince her to play the role of the submissive human slave.

  *

  Galtan was presently staring Amelia down – the stare seemed more contemplative than forbidding, so she waited. He seemed to be weighing alternatives. Is military service that secretive on this planet? Galtan heaved a sigh when it seemed he had made up his mind.

  “I will answer your questions without reservation if, and only if, you agree to be entirely obedient and silent when we walk out this door.”

  “I’m not dumb, I don’t want to be at the center of some alien dispute on the proper discipline of a slave,” Amelia retorted. Uh-uh, no way. “It was entirely my intention to play the psychologically broken captive.” The alien’s lips twitched; suspiciously reminiscent of a smile.

  “Fine. No, that title is not open to interpretation or replication. There is only one member of Amirak-Ren’s military force that holds that title. It is reserved for the best, the most superior warrior. The warrior that holds the title of Lord Commander of the Armies reports to only one man, the ruling monarch and is responsible for the day to day running of Amirak-Ren.”

  Anya stared at the man; he had basically told her that he was the prime minister or president of an entire planet. I was bought by the man that runs this planet…

  “And policy?” The question escaped Amelia before she could stop it.

  “Yes and no. I handle military policy, planetary security, things of that ilk; however, I have no say on the societal policies – or social demands.”

  “Like slavery.”

  “Yes, that is a section of policy that I have no control over. It is my responsibility to see to the successful movement of trade, but my position is considered unconcerned with the items being traded. The only exception to that rule is when trade is being privately facilitated with races that are considered a threat to the security of Amirak-Ren.”

  “I see.”

  “Any other questions for now?”

  “No,” Amelia replied, appreciative of Galtan’s perception that she would in face have more questions in the future. “Oh, am I expected to follow behind you or something?”

  “No,” He said quickly. “You are not to be out of my sight, I want you within arm’s reach. If needed I want to be able to extract and shield you from any incidents that might arise.”

  “Ok.” Galtan opened the door by pressing a set of buttons, the heavy sheaf of glittering stone lifted, revealing a broad doorway. He ushered her out ahead of him into the wilds of the strange planet; or rather an urban metropolis.

  Amelia turned in a circle as Galtan lowered and sealed the entrance to his home, taking advantage of the security of the courtyard to take stock of her limited view of the world. The skyline was littered with spires of gleaming, brightly coloured stone.

  It was a city of rich jewel tones: purples, reds, greens, and blues in all shades. Not much detail was carved into the exterior of the buildings, though some were accented with cut-out metal overlays and balconies, otherwise the architects of Amirak-Ren seemed to let the glittering crystal speak for itself.

  Galtan descended the few steps into the courtyard and drew Amelia with him to the gate. The gate was exquisitely wrought metal, the pattern made Amelia think of the ancient Gordian Knot in its intricacy.

  The gate receded into the wall to their left as they waited for it to open. Galtan stepped from the security of the courtyard first, checking the street before he reached back and pulled her onto the walk beside him.

  As he secured the gate, Galtan looked down at Amelia and softly uttered, “Stay between me and the building. There are those with vehicles that wouldn’t hesitate to try to crush you. I trust that my presence should be enough to keep you safe, but there are those who would risk it for sport.”

  “Lovely,” Amelia muttered.

  The city was something else with its color and cleanliness, but as they came to a more obviously populated area, Amelia’s appreciation of the naturalistic architecture was negated by her horror.

  Slaves were being drug behind carriages, if they in their exhaustion could not keep up and fell, the flesh would be quite literally be ripped from their bodies, leaving bloody streaks over the pavers. Others were being publicly beaten or even mutilated. Every slave was nude and almost every single one was female.

  Amelia shuddered and Galtan used his body to crowd her closer to the safety of the nearly shear walls that comprised the shop fronts in what she now realized was a public, social square. Galtan suddenly stopped, and drew Amelia up short with a hand on her arm. He reached across her body and pulled open a metal mesh door and pushed her in.

  “My Lord Commander,” a nasally voice whined across the shop. A squat, toad-like looking man waddled from b
ehind a rack of shimmering fabrics. “Have you finally come to grant my wish to see to your pleasure, since only the master clothier is worthy of crafting a man in your position’s garments.

  Amelia was glad that she was standing just behind the alien warrior’s shoulder as she couldn’t stop the widening of her eyes in shock at the blatant proposition from a rather unattractive little man. Is Galtan gay? Amelia pondered the possibility with fascination, and privately hoped that, if that were the case, homosexuality was accepted enough on Amirak-Ren for him to find a more suitable partner.

  “Is Falgat in?” Toady sighed, sounding rather put-upon that Galtan was apparently going to pretend the solicitations had never been made.

  “Yes, shall I fetch him for you?”

  “Yes.” With that definite directive, Toady waddled off into a back room of the shop.

  *

  Galtan really hated dealing with the master clothier’s assistant. Though he knew that Falgat had warned the man, the solicitations persisted. Amiilya’s soft voice whispered over his shoulder, her words caused Galtan to choke back a chuckle.

  “What a lovely option for a life partner.”

  “I am sorry, Alahi, but Gapka is apparently only interested in those of the male sex classification,” Galtan retorted, the smile obvious in his voice.

  “Is he always like that?” The much more appealing female inquired.

  “Yes, yes he is.” At that moment, Falgat came through the doorway from the back room of his shop, Gapka was not with him.

  “I suppose I should apologize for that fool, yet again.” Falgat was young for a master clothier, barely older than Galtan, but his talent had drawn the most powerful of Amirak-Ren to him as clientele.

  “No need Falgat, we both know you are.”

  A soft laugh escaped the clothier, “What can I do for you my Lord Commander? It is always a pleasure to have you in my shop.”

  “You might not feel that way today,” Galtan warned the man who was actually a long-term friend though they both hid the connection. Galtan then stepped aside, revealing the female. Falgat’s eyes widened as he knew Galtan’s resistance to ever keeping a slave, and to the utilization of one of his creations to garb the body of a human slave.

  Amiilya kept her eyes focused close to the floor, doing her best to appear meek, and if Galtan hadn’t had the pleasure of her conversation that morning, he might have believed her act.

  However, Falgat, knowing Galtan had not patience for the week stomped over and took Amiilya by the chin and forced her to look up at him, to meet his gaze.

  “No wonder,” Falgat proclaimed. Before Galtan could question what his friend meant by that statement, the man continued, “She is unbroken, with a breeder’s body, and eyes the most perfect shade of treasure blue. I have never known you to take a slave, but if one were to catch your interest, it would be a female like this.” During Falgat’s commentary Amiilya had turned her chin in the man’s hand to stare at Galtan.

  “Interesting theory,” Galtan retorted.

  “Not theory, I have known you nearly all of your four-and-a-quarter cycles. So let me guess, you want her clothed.”

  “Yes. Are you going to have a problem with that?” Amiilya kept glancing between the two men before her; Galtan could already see the questions bubbling. “I came here first hoping to find you without other clients, though I had been totally prepared to go bully one of the other clothiers had you been.”

  “How nice of you to take care of my reputation that way,” Falgat smirked over at him. “Now, you must tell me, who were you going to torment had I been busy?”

  *

  A raspy chuckle escaped Amelia’s alien at the craftsman’s question. The two of them were obviously old friends, and despite Galtan’s position, it seemed the other man had no qualm’s poking fun at his childhood friend. She had been doing well in keeping silence, but as Galtan’s friend had already identified her mental state as quite intact Amelia couldn’t avoid asking a question.

  “Cycle?” Her voice was soft, a bare whisper, but the way the two men stopped speaking she might as well have yelled.

  “Alahi.” Galtan shook his head at her; thankfully he didn’t seem angry, merely resigned. His friend however, laughed.

  “Like Velishi chimes,” the clothier commented. “A cycle is the celestial measure of a period of time on Amirak-Ren. I believe your kind call the passage of your planet around a primary celestial body a ‘year’.” He pronounced the word carefully, and looked to Galtan for confirmation.

  “Yes, but a cycle on Amirak-Ren is equivalent to eight ‘years’ on your world. Amirak-Ren moves much more slowly in its path around the twin suns that light the sky.”

  “Ahh…” Amelia didn’t comment any further on the matter, her mind already racing to put various things that she had learned into perspective. Galtan batted his friend’s hand away from her face and turned Amelia to face him.

  “What?” He sounded genuinely curious as he asked.

  “Nothing, I was just doing the calculations.”

  “Of?” Galtan’s friend interjected, obviously amused by the exchange between Galtan and herself.

  “I was just determining that you would be thirty-four years old on earth; nothing more than that.” Amelia watched the exchange of looks between the two men. They seemed entertained by her interests in the comparison of the measure of time.

  “So,” Galtan began. “How many cycles does that make you?”

  “Twenty-two divided by eight…that means that you would say I am two-and-three-quarters cycles.”

  “A young one!”

  “Falgat!” Galtan interrupted the man, rolling his eyes at the general madness.

  “Well, what is the age of maturity on this planet?” Amelia asked, her gaze switching between the men.

  *

  “For females, maturity is determined by the physical ability to bear offspring,” Falgat stated before Galtan could stop him. He quickly took control of the answer before the conversation fell off that cliff into the unpleasant abyss that conversation would be. Galtan suspected that he would have to address all of those questions at some point, but he would rather do so in private.

  “In general, the ‘age of maturity,’ as you called it, is two-and-a-half cycles.” Thankfully, Amiilya let Falgat’s comment go unquestioned for the time being; instead she determined the equivalent of the age in the numeric system she was used to.

  “Twenty, that is actually older than the average of Earth,” the comment wasn’t actually addressed at Falgat or himself. Amiilya seemed to simply be gathering information on Amirak-Ren. “Ok, sorry to have interrupted, no other questions for now,” the human quipped with a shrug.

  Galtan managed to swallow his mirth at Amiilya’s flippant attitude and noticed Falgat’s appreciation as well. Falgat gently took the pretty human’s arm and led her over to the set of scanners that would measure her body so that the garments he made would fit to perfection.

  “These are going to measure you, just stand still.” Falgat told Amiilya as he centered her before the clothier’s scanner. Galtan stayed out of the way as Amiilya’s measurements were taken, instead he asked from the sidelines for an estimation of delivery and Falgat’s ideas regarding style.

  *

  Apparently Galtan’s friend, Falgat, planned to craft garments that would cling and hang in rich sweeps of fabric off her curves. Amelia was grateful when the tailor specifically looked at her and assured that he would make sure her body was sufficiently concealed.

  “You might start a trend here, Galtan. As Lord Commander of the Armies you are in the position to do so.” Falgat said as he completed the ‘final’ scan – so he says, he’s taken at least a dozen scans from different angles.

  “How so?” Galtan asked, though Amelia already had an idea, she simply waited for Falgat to confirm her theory.

  “Clothing a beautiful slave – the action will suggest all the more at a female’s value; if only a master is to see the nu
ances of her body, it will indicate heightened value. Granted there are already rumors abound about a very important governmental figure spending more on a human female than has ever been paid in known history.” Amelia turned to stare at the man who had purchased her.

  “Yes you,” Galtan addressed her unspoken question before looking at Falgat. “And your point?”

  “Simply that she will be of great focus, and by clothing her, you are making a rather profound statement…though I see how little you care about that. So are you going to safely ensconce you’re pretty and expensive friend in your home when you leave here? Or do you have other errands to run?”

  “I have to go by Pavathi.” Galtan’s statement was met by surprise, nearing on horror at the thought from Falgat.

  “You are taking her to Pavathi?”

  “Yes.” Falgat’s face was lax, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at Galtan. Without saying another word to Galtan, Falgat turned toward Amelia.

  “I suspect that you came out of your self-containment with me because you were able to sense, accurately, that I could care less that you are unbroken. I, along with Galtan, am a member of an almost imperceptible minority. You cannot do that when he takes you into Pavathi. You must be meek, weak, and stay close to him. There are none who would dare to provoke Galtan. Rely on that – stay within his reach.”

  *

  Falgat wasn’t exaggerating the need to stay within Galtan’s reach and it seemed Galtan knew that fact. He kept Amelia close, nearly had her wrapped within the folds of his cloak. As soon as she saw their next destination, Amelia knew that she wouldn’t dare stray from the protection of Galtan’s presence.

  The Pavathi wasn’t so much a building as a complex; there were massive gates at the entrance, and as Galtan approached, had Amelia doubted the power hi had, she would have been proven wrong in her doubt as the men snapped straight and all moved from his path.