Warrior's Vow: Alien Warrior Science Fiction Romance (Yadeshi Brides Book 2)

by Emma Alisyn

  His eyes narrowed. They were more of a swampy green today than a true Yadeshi blue. She wondered if he was mixed with another species. Like a reptilian species.

  Mila pushed to her feet, bending over to brace her hands on her knees a few seconds before straightening fully. Now that her heart was slowing, she felt the kind of post exercise glow that was a signal of good, rather than poor, health.

  “I’m going to recommend you be removed from the program.”

  Those words caught her attention. She gaped at him a moment, feeling as if a rabid dog had her throat between its maw and was shaking the shit out of her.

  “Why would you do that? I’m getting better!”

  He braced his legs apart. “Don’t like your attitude. And can’t imagine you’d make a decent mate for any of our warriors. Better you leave now before we waste more of our time on you.”

  The words hurt. He didn’t know how hard she’d worked, pushing through all the days when she just wanted to crawl up in a ball and stay in bed. But she got up because she needed the money- her mother would need the money- and because even though she’d already decided not to fight death, that didn’t mean she had to go pathetically into the night.

  “Who decides what is a time waste, Ithann?”

  Mila tensed, the icy voice at her back causing the muscles of her abs to tighten. Damn. She hadn’t felt him walk up, which meant the Adekhan’s verbal blow had thrown her off.

  Turning, she put a hand on Jaron’s chest, “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

  He didn’t even look at her. “It is my right, and my privilege.”

  “Who says so?”

  Jaron looked down. “Isn’t that what friends do?”

  In his tone was a current, a verbal caress even though no one who didn’t know him would hear it. She heard it, and as soon as she began paying attention she felt the upwell of anger inside him. Seething, resentful anger that someone who should be training her was abusing her instead.

  Mila hesitated, then stepped aside. She could give him that- a brief submission to his desire to be her knight.

  “On the mat,” Jaron said, voice soft.

  She turned around in time to see Ithann’s nasty, disdainful smile. “I should decline out of honor. You are no warrior.”

  “Then you should have no problem teaching me a lesson.”

  The men strode to the indoor complex, Mila following at a slower pace and vaguely wondering if she should fetch a snack or some first aid supplies. She hoped Jaron didn’t lose too badly- she didn’t really have the emotional energy to soothe male ego for the next few days. Though she supposed after all he’d done for her, some soothing was the least way she could repay him.

  Gayle ran up, panting. “What’s going on?”

  “Ithann’s being a jerk. Jaron is going to fight him.”

  “That-” Gayle bit off her words. “I’ve got to think of something to do to make his life miserable. What a prick.”

  Mila glanced at her friend, wondering at the perversity of dating someone who one thought was a prick. Just like Gayle- she would think that dynamic intriguing.

  The men were headed to an empty mat just as Mila and Gayle entered the gym, the fury swirling around each warrior palpable. People scattered, heads turning as the pair faced each other. Bowed, then stilled for a split second.

  And then…

  Mila darted forward, skidding to a stop a healthy distance away. The sounds in the gym slowly faded as other Yadeshi and humans realized this fight wasn’t training, wasn’t practice.

  They flowed, the Forms alternating between languid grace and staccato precision. Blow after blow; block, parry. A leap, a kick. Slithering into each other’s center to grapple and then breaking away, each man trying to find an advantage. Studying the opponent’s strengths and weaknesses.

  Ithann’s warrior bulk against the leaner, but no less muscular grace of Jaron’s form. A study in contrasts. Ithann’s sheer power and Jaron’s slithering speed, canny ability to anticipate moves. Unlike with Samson’s human goons, with Ithann Jaron held nothing back. She heard the murmurs and gasps as people recognized... the doctor.

  Gayle whistled. “My god, come to mama. I don’t supposed you’d be into a-“

  “No.” Mila cut off Gayle’s musing, knowing exactly where her irreverent friend would have gone with that statement.

  Mila realized her jaw was open, and laboriously shut it. While Jaron had conducted himself well in the street fight with three humans, it still hadn’t occurred to her that he could hold his own against a practicing warrior. Stupid. Where did she think he got his bod from? Bench pressing tongue compressors all day? He must train, albeit in secret. And she understood why- if it was known how good he was, they might reassign him.

  “Who authorized this?” a hard female voice asked.

  Mila glanced over her shoulder. A tall Yadeshi woman in a long, loose robe like garment, her hair intricately braided, walked into the gym. Though the Yadeshi didn’t show age the way humans did, her face seemed timeless.

  “No one,” Mila replied. “My Adekhan pissed my… boyfriend... off. They’re working it out, I guess.”

  “They’re in trouble now,” Gayle whispered in Mila’s ear, voice gleeful. “This isn’t Ithann’s day. Ha.”

  Eyes measured her briefly, before returning to the duel. A sheen of sweat on Jaron’s arms. At some point he’d removed the lab coat and revealed his tattooed arms in the same vest as all the warriors.

  “This is quite enough,” the woman said.

  She strode forward, braids swishing around her butt. “Finish it, now.”

  Her command was a bark. Both men jerked, then moved with renewed fervor. The Adekhan had weight on his side, but Jaron was… fast. In three moves he pinned Ithann to the mat, the Adekhan staring up at him in fury.

  “Yield,” the woman demanded.

  Ithann’s incisors flashed then he nodded sharply. Jaron stepped back, bowed.

  “Maybe in the future you’ll be more constructive in your criticism.”

  ***

  “Come to my office for a physical,” Jaron said, walking towards her.

  He’d donned the lab coat again, sliding back into the medical geek persona like it was a second skin. Mila stared at him, unnerved and incredulous.

  “I can’t just leave- it’s the middle of the training day.”

  “I’m your attending physician. Who here is going to argue with me?”

  He hadn’t bothered to lower his voice, so the words could be construed as a vague, open challenge. Mila grabbed him by the arm, dragging him from the gym before he could beat up any more of his people. Last thing she needed was a bunch of Adekhana out for her blood. They couldn’t touch a doctor- they were considered noncombatant. But they could make Mila’s life miserable.

  “I thought you didn’t fight,” she said when they were in the hallway.

  He shrugged, pulling his arm away from her. “If you assumed I discontinued all training, that is what I wanted you to assume.”

  Why, the arrogant sob. Mila stopped, glared at him. “No more fights, Jaron. I have to learn how to take care of myself.”

  “I agree. But the learning will come in stages I approve. Now Ithann is aware of both your health status- and the need to allow you some leeway- and the need for caution.” He smiled, incisors a little extra sharp. “Because, demonstrably, any rude behavior will be chastised.”

  “Well. Speaking of rude behavior. I guess I’d better tell you the research institute has been hounding me.”

  The slightly amused, malicious expression on his face shifted. “Explain.” No emotion in his tone, eyes hyper focused on her face.

  Mila shifted, uncomfortable- maybe her timing was shitty. “Look- do you know something about these people or what? Sometimes I get a vibe from you whenever I bring them up. I know you’re in that human alien medical residency program. Has anything come through the grapevine lately?”

  “What I have alrea
dy told you should have been enough, were you an obedient woman,” he said, voice even. “However, let me repeat myself. Mila- whatever those people tell you, stay away. Their methodology is aggressive and I don’t trust what they’re using the data for. Their sponsors-” he stopped talking. “Just cut off all communication. Change your phone number. While you live here at the complex they shouldn’t be able to come to your door.”

  Mila blinked. “It’s that serious? I didn’t even tell you what they want.” And she’d ignore his use of the word obedient.

  “I know what they want, Mila.” His expression was grim. “If you had listened to me and not continued the research, you would not be on their radar now.”

  “What exactly did your healings do to me, Jaron?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but began walking. “It alters your genetic structure, makes your cells age slower, become more impervious to attack.”

  “Oh, my god. Am I turning into an alien?”

  He whirled, grabbing her by the arms. “No. You’re turning into mine.”

  She sucked in a breath, unsure of which instinct to obey- the one that wanted to sock him, or the one that wanted to jump his bones.

  “Jaron.”

  They both turned. The female Yadeshi stood several feet away.

  “Yanikha,” Jaron said.

  Yanikha approached, gliding with an unconscious, self-assured authority. Mila glanced between the two Yadeshi, wondering who the woman was.

  “Ithann has expressed some concern about trainee Mila’s ability to fulfil her training and thus the terms of her contract. He’s advised-”

  “Do you take advice from Adekhana now?”

  Mila tensed. His tone was rude, but the woman only smiled. “It is a valid concern. I’ve read her file. You’re ill, I understand?”

  Mila nodded, since Yanikha addressed her. “Yes. I have a rare, terminal cancer. Or I did. Jaron-” she glanced at him, hesitated. Wasn’t sure what she should, or should not say.

  “I see,” the woman said. “Then are the reports of your ill health over exaggerated?”

  “At the current time,” Jaron said. “And there is every indication her recovery will be complete.”

  Because of the bond between them, Mila sensed an undercurrent. Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, so what’s the subtext I’m missing here?”

  Yanikha’s head tilted. “He hasn’t told you?”

  Jaron tensed next to her, and she felt him withdraw. She hadn’t realized until then how used she’d become to his mental presence, as subtle as it was.

  “Told me what?”

  The elder woman waited a beat, but Jaron said nothing. “I don’t approve. These things shouldn’t be done without the human’s full consent.”

  “What has he done?”

  Yanikha met her eyes. “I can sense the bond between you.”

  Mila wiggled her fingers. “Well, yeah. The healing thingy has created a... connection. He calls it a bond.”

  “He has not told you what that word truly means. It isn’t usually our way to perform it in stages, but... I can see the benefits in this case. He’s made you his mate, dear. Not fully. But I suppose that’s only a matter of time now.”

  Mila froze, stunned. “What?”

  “You can feel what he feels, can’t you? You always know where he is if you concentrate.”

  She couldn’t reply- but the reply was written all over her face. She’d assumed their connection was a simple side effect of the healing... he hadn’t said otherwise. Except that one time he’d alluded to- what had he said? Something about her accepting him fully? Damnit, but her brain had been mush even a few days ago.

  “Yes,” Yanikha said. “When you fully accept the bond, the effects will be magnified.”

  “I- when I enrolled in the program, the brochure said-”

  “We don’t put everything in the brochure. By the time you’re required to choose a husband, we’re hoping you will have already found a natural bond.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, so the ‘bond’ is good if you’re going to have a relationship. “

  “My dear, there is no ‘going to.’ If you bond, it is forever and unescapable. In your case, it appears the if is a when. You’re far too close to turn back now.”

  Mila turned to Jaron. “You weren’t going to tell me until it was done.”

  He returned her glare with arrogant nonchalance. “It isn’t really necessary. No one can force a full bond; you have to accept it on your own, as you have been albeit in stages as Yanikha said.” He shrugged. “When I take you the point of whether or not I told you will be moot.”

  8

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mila had the sense to wait until they were alone to chew him out. Moot, her ass. Jaron silenced his clerk with a slashing look as they strode into the office, Mila hard at his heels to the point of subtly pushing him along.

  He aimed a glare over his shoulder once or twice, slowing a step so she crashed into his back- and pushed him some more. Stacia sighed and Mila heard her begin to placate patients.

  “I don’t have time for this, Mila,” he said once the door was closed.“I have patients.”

  She crossed her arms. She felt a little guilty, but not really.“No one out there has anything more serious than a paper cut or Staciawouldn’t have let you get away with shushing her.”

  He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms.“So what is it?”

  “You didn’t tell me what you were doing!”

  “Does it matter? You needed a cure, I gave you one.”

  Her teeth clenched.“You didn’t mention the cure came with lifetime consequences.Or at least you didn’t mention it when I was actually paying attention.”

  He stared at her, dispassionate.“When does any miracle ever come without strings?”

  “Aren’t doctors supposed to give full disclosure? Or is this the usual male physician’s arrogance, making decisions for a woman because he thinks he knows best?”

  “You’re a trainee at YETI. You would have to choose a mate anyway. Why not me?”

  And she was supposed to endure a lifetime of his cool, seemingly irrefutable logic? Logic that dictated he not consult her on important things?

  “I understand,” Jaron said.“You think I don’t, but I do. But my higher imperative- besides respecting your free will- is to preserve life. That is my first vow, Mila. Even if the preservation of your life is against your will.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She heard the hard line in his voice, even as the true ring of his words told her he was utterly convinced he was correct.

  “Fine, Jaron. But don’t expect me to ever really trust you.”

  His eyes narrowed.“You have centuries to learn to trust me. Right now all I want is your vow.”

  “Vow? Wait- centuries? What the hell?”

  “I want to fully mate. I want a life with you, Mila.”

  “Can we go back to the centuriesthing?”

  He straightened from the desk, arms resting at his sides.“I’ve courted you slowly over the last few months. Given you time. I’mold enough to know when a connection has the potential to be something enduring.” He waited a beat as she absorbed his words.“Are you?”

  She took a deep breath.“We have issues to work out- your high handedness being one. Tell me more about my centuries.”

  He smiled, and the genuine warmth softened her anger.“No. Now go play.”

  ***

  “Can we talk?”

  Mila turned her head as she left the office. Her mother stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself.

  Approaching, Mila gave Ayita a hug.“It will be alright, Mama. Jaron’s taking care of you, right?”

  “Giving you a break,” her mother said after pulling away from the hug. Ayita’s brow was furrowed, worry lines on her forehead.“I should be taking care of you.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “He told me.”

  Mila’s smile evaporated.“He had no right.”


  “You should have told me. I never would have let you go through with that.” Ayita blinked, a sheen in her eyes.“Do you think I want your death on my shoulders, too?”

  Mila jerked away, stung.“I was trying to make sure you were taken care of!”

  “Well, stop that stupid shit,” Ayita retorted.“It isn’t your job to fix my issues, Mimi. I’mthe parent- I’ve been a shitty one, but I’m still your mother. I want to focus on you.” Ayita shook her head.“There’s something about this place that clears the head. Or maybe I was finally ready to start healing for real.”

  “Samson is gonna want you to pay the tab.”

  Ayita grimaced.“I’ll talk to him. I know some shit that will‘pay my tab’ for me.”

  “Ma-”

  “Don’t worry about me, Mila.” Ayita’s lips pursed.“Though if you go back to the apartment, I could really use my house shoes. The pink fluffy ones I’ve had for-”

  “Ten years.” Mila grimaced.“Gross. Okay, Ma.”

  ***

  She returned to her training in a better spirit, feeling as if some of the issues between her and Jaron, between her and Ayita, were on the path to resolution. Everything wouldn’t be perfect overnight, but it felt like a new start, the breaking of a destructive cycle. Finally.

  After training she left the complex, wanting to gather some more of their belongings. They had until the end of the month paid up in the apartment, and Mila had a feeling Jaron was going to ask her to move into his suite permanently.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea- the complex was perfectly fine, with all the up to date amenities and technology. The living quarters were comfortable and even the common areas were nice, but she wanted a place of her own. Maybe she could convince him to pick out something off complex. Would Ayita want to move in as well?

  “Mila.”

  Mila turned as she finished locking the apartment door, shoulders prickling.“Rebecca, what are you doing here?”

  The doctor strode down the hallway, low heeled shoes clicking. She smiled, brisk and friendly.