Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  It was the dragon’s nettle. It had to be the nettle. I’d learned not to cry but now tears pricked my eyes. I blinked them furiously away as he stalked about the room, lifting a few things and putting them in his pockets. I couldn’t see them, so I didn’t know what they were, but he took them from the pile I’d put there myself, so I knew the choices were grim at best—fun enough when flicked with skill, but dangerous as hell if wielded too harshly.

  “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself. “Unfuckingbelieveable, Sitra.”

  “What?” I said, craning my neck to see, but then he was next to me, the heat emanating from his body like the rays of the suns scorching my skin. He lifted one of my wrists. I heard the sound of metal on metal, and my wrist was bound from the O-ring attached to the bedpost.

  Shit.

  My second wrist met a similar demise, then both my ankles. He pulled and adjusted the straps with expert skill.

  He was not new to this.

  Fuck.

  “What?” he asked. “You’d let someone touch you like this, that’s what,” he said. “The thought of someone coming in here like this and tying you up, then using these things on you. What if he was a rapist, a murderer? Did you ever think of that?”

  Oh, God. “Well, no. We have safety precautions in place so that we don’t—”

  “Bullshit. What if it was someone who’d hurt you, Sitra? Hmm? You know what?” His voice rose in pitch as the temperature in the room rose once again. “You deserve to have your ass whipped for that.” Thwack!

  I yelped out loud as he whacked my ass with the leather-covered paddle. It seemed he had covered every damn inch of my ass with that thing. My whole bottom lit on fire. “Cy!”

  Another hard smack followed another. I writhed against my restraints but I couldn’t move.

  “Stop it! You’re not in charge of me!”

  “Bullshit,” he muttered, applying two more wicked swats. “You said it yourself. I paid for you. So I get to do what I want, right?”

  I didn’t say anything. I was not going to win this battle. He was stronger than I was, and bigger, and I was the one on the receiving end, tied up and vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to me.

  “So that’s exactly what I’m doing. You’re mine to do with as I please until the sun rises? And it pleases me immensely to show you exactly how these toys ought to be handled.” He paused the onslaught of whacks from the paddle long enough to run his hand over my ass, before he walked away. Was he done? That hadn’t been as bad as I thought, I guessed. I’d expected far worse.

  I was wrong.

  I heard him shifting things on the dresser, and then he picked something up.

  “God. Cy! I learned my lesson or whatever-the-fuck. Stop!”

  A whistle in the air was my only warning before the hiss of a strap hit my ass. “You like that, Sitra?” he asked, standing behind me, and as he applied one lash after another.

  Yes. The worst of it all was that yes, I fucking liked it. My eyes closed shut of their own accord, and I could picture him now, standing behind me, wielding his strap, the big, strong, muscled soldier I’d had a crush on since before I knew how to spell my own name.

  “No,” I lied, shaking my head, too embarrassed to admit anything less.

  “Is this what you want? This is what you’d have some stranger do? Have somebody hurt you in a way that you have no control over, just to make a little money?”

  I shook with anger, furious that he’d actually aroused me just to mock me.

  “Cy, don’t do this. I get your point. Stop!”

  “Sitra, you don’t get my point at all. I haven’t even begun to show you what I could do to you. Your brother is not here anymore, your parents gone. You have no one who cares enough about you to know if someone hurt you.”

  Tears pricked my eyes and I pulled against the restraints.

  “You’re all alone. I know things about you that nobody else knows.” He came up to my side and I felt his hot breath on my neck as his fingers moved my hair to the side, baring my neck to him.

  “You want a stranger to do sensual things to your body for money? And here I am, I’ve already spent my money on you, and you say that I should get my money’s worth? What if I did this?” He lowered his mouth to my neck and I felt the warm, sensual feel of his tongue against my skin. I held my breath, unable to react, unable to do anything but hold my breath in anticipation.

  “Tell me, Sitra. Is it easier for you if a stranger does this?”

  “Yes,” I nearly sobbed. “It’s so much easier. Please stop, Cy,” I begged.

  “I only just started,” he said but before he could do another thing, a nearly deafening whine sounded, followed by a huge crash. Glass broke, and people screamed, then a siren went off. Blinding light followed the shattering sound of metal, and I could tell that whatever was happening was on the other side of the main house.

  “Cy!” I yelled, afraid, not knowing what was happening.

  “Stay right here,” he said, which was ridiculous considering the fact that I couldn’t move an inch. And he left. Actually fucking left the room. The rumbles sounded louder and louder and I screamed his name again but no answer. I writhed against the restraints, but could not budge them. I twisted, but another tremor shook the room, something hit my head, and my vision went black.

  Chapter Three

  Cy

  I’d learned it was better to face danger straight on rather than wait for the dust to settle. Any attack was better met with an offensive move straight back, or at the very least, defense. But when I came to the main area of the building, the damage had already been done.

  Everything was devastated. The crowd of people who’d been here earlier had been vaporized. I could still see the singed remains of some. But the main attack, which had completely demolished the building, had only been on the area visible from outside. The hidden rooms that gave the appearance of the brothel being smaller from outside actually saved our asses as the explosion centered around the main area of the Paragon.

  After looking around quickly, and making sure there indeed were no more survivors, I peered out the window. All that was left was a bleak landscape. They had destroyed everything. I doubted they’d be back, as there was nothing else here for them but me and Sitra, and if they hadn’t yet scanned the energy fields to see if there were any survivors, we had a very small window before they returned. I turned back to the long hall that led to the room where I’d left her, when another tremor shook the ground beneath me. I ducked, prepared to block anything that fell, but the walls crumbled around me. Large metallic hunks of roof and wall crowded the path that would lead me to her.

  I used my training to make myself meld into the background of the remains as I glanced through a small hallway window outside. A silver orb, one I recognized as belonging to Tyrova, grew smaller in the midnight sky, lit only by the light of the moons. The Tyrovians were notorious for drive-by shootings, sniper shots, and similar underhanded tactics when at war, but as far as I knew, Sargotha and Tyrova were allies.

  Still, I had to proceed with caution.

  Another shudder ripped through the building, likely an aftershock of the explosion. I braced myself as the ground beneath my feet rumbled, glass crashing. I listened for a sound, anything at all, an indication that Sitra was still alive, but I heard nothing. I’d have welcomed even a scream. Large pieces of shrapnel and glass littered the path in front of me, smoke obscuring my vision as I plodded forward, intent on finding Sitra.

  I remembered my key, then, and reached in my pocket for the small ring that would grant me access to the room. Sliding it on my finger, I swiped a finger along the metal, listening intently for the responding beep. Nothing. Ten more paces forward, as cautiously as I could, careful not to move too quickly or so fast I’d miss a sound, I swiped the metal once again. This time, the faintest tweet of the alarm gave me hope. It was distant, either further down the hall or buried, but it was closer than it had been. I moved forward w
ith renewed hope. I would find her, and she would be okay.

  Several paces further down the darkened hallway, I could hardly see anything. I grasped the access ring one more time and swiped harder, as if the intensity would somehow give me what I wanted, make my path easy for me, and it was on the third attempt that the beep sounded so loudly it nearly rang in my ear, accompanied by a flash of brilliant red light. Here. I was here, right outside her room. I only had to find the doorway.

  “Sitra!” My voice sounded in the hallway, not echoing as it normally would but dying almost instantly. I tried again, this time even louder. “Sitra!” Nothing. I pulled at the hunks of metal blocking my way, tossing them behind me, as it was clear now that the entrance to the room was blocked, and after a solid ten minutes of grunting and using all my strength, I’d made no progress. I grabbed the access ring and tried once again, but the responding beep and flash of light were as muted as before. I was getting nowhere.

  “Sitra!” my voice bellowed in the closed-off area. I needed to know if she was okay.

  This time, in return I heard the faintest, softest response buried so far in the distance it took all my focus to hear her. “Cy? Cy!”

  Thank God, she was alive.

  “Where are you? Are you hurt?” Was she buried?

  No response came. I shouted her name once more, but nothing came back.

  Damn it. How would I get to her?

  I pulled again at the pile of rubble in my path, but it was no use. I’d have to find another way. Behind me lay the vast devastation of the destroyed Paragon, but to my right I saw a doorway. In desperation, I made haste to the doorway, but that only led to another room. Just as I was about to give up and attempt to dig out my path to Sitra, I saw a huge, empty space in a wall, where a large window had once stood. The glass was all but gone, the room devastated, but beyond the yawning hole I saw a porch. The rustic room.

  Hope surged within me as I stalked to the balcony. With my elbow, I smashed the remaining shards of glass from the outside edges so I could get through, clearing a space for my large frame. The glass shattered on the ground, splintering and scattering, but I stepped over it with my boots, thankful I still wore my uniform, as I pushed my way onto the porch. I got the same dismal view of the city I had from inside the building—everything gone. Wiped out. Completely vanished. I ignored the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I hoisted myself up onto the wrought-iron gate that surrounded the porch, bringing me closer to the edge of the roof. I grasped the edge and lifted myself, my muscles straining under the pressure as I dragged my body to the top of the roof. Prostrate on the flat top, I squirmed to a safe position, and assessed my situation. If my estimation was correct, the window to Sitra’s room would be right on the other side of where I lay.

  People were not meant to lie on the roofs of invisible buildings. In front of me, it appeared the hall that I knew to be directly below me vanished. I could see nothing but sky and ground, but I knew that if I trusted my instincts, that even though I couldn’t see it, I’d feel the building beneath me.

  As I climbed on the roof, light blinded my vision, a second silver orb looming above me. I ducked and rolled just in time, as a blinding laser flashed before me, the invisible roof crashing underneath me. I’d been taught to disappear, tucking myself into the camouflage designed to allow me to blend into my surroundings, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact of the crash. My body flew through the air as the building exploded, glass and shrapnel flying this way and that around me, glass slicing through my uniform. Without the protection of my military-grade uniform, I’d have been torn apart. With it, I would only sustain minor injuries. I lay on the ground, my arm throbbing, something warm and wet oozing from my head as my stomach churned. I waited until silence fell, before I opened my eyes.

  Before I moved, I scanned the sky, to my left and right, and watched as a fleet of silver orbs grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Then they were gone.

  I had to get back inside. Dragging my aching body to the side of the building where the room had been, now just submerged in a pile of rubble, I looked for an opening anywhere. I needed something, anything that would get me into the hidden rooms. Along the edge of the wall, I groped, hoping to find a pocket of air hidden in the rubble, an indication that the hidden rooms still stood. After searching the full length of the wall, with nothing for it, my hope began to dwindle. How would I find her? Was she even still alive? The night had grown so dark I could hardly see a thing in front of me, the murky sky lit only by the crescent slivers of moons. Everything else had darkened.

  I smacked my hand on the roof as hard as I could, hoping that the impact would make the rest of the building visible. And then I saw it, just one thing that gave me a glimmer of hope, a circular flash of light at the far end of the destroyed building. I dragged my aching body to the light, hoping this would be it, this would be where I’d be able to find a way in. There, like a flower that stubbornly refused to wilt in a deluge, stood one window, but it was far too narrow for me to get through. I grasped the frame, reasoning that if this part of the building had been hidden from view, perhaps the rest of the window was, too. I pushed, then blinked as a full-sized window snapped into view. The glass was broken along one edge, so it was an easy matter to smash the rest with my elbow, and step into the room underneath the shattered glass.

  The rooms had not been destroyed.

  “Sitra!” I shouted, not caring now if anyone heard me. No response. We were the only ones on the entire planet, from what I could see, all other buildings completely disintegrated. Ours was supposed to have met the same demise.

  I walked through the room and toward the door. To my left was a pile of rubble, and to my right, more open space. It appeared the left side had sustained direct impact of the lasers, but the rooms to the right had only collapsed in the aftershock. This gave me hope.

  “Sitra!” I listened for her response. At first, there was nothing and I called her name again, then a third time. Finally, I heard her voice, weak but still there, calling my name.

  “Cy! I’m here! Help me, please!”

  Her pleading propelled me forward. I’d get to her, if I had to tear the rubble away with my bare hands.

  “Sitra! Where are you!”

  She was closer now, as I heard her huff out a breath. “Right where you left me. O-rings don’t fall apart with laser attacks, big guy.”

  Wiseass. I grinned to myself. If she was well enough to be snarky, she’d be okay.

  “I’m coming! Hang in there, Sitra.”

  “Not going anywhere, trust me.”

  I pulled down a twisted metal and glass door frame, wincing in pain as I sliced my hand along the edge of broken glass. My stomach twisted, and I ignored it, ignoring the pain, driven by the need to rescue her. “Yell out again!”

  “Over here!” This time, her voice sounded closer. I needed to get to her. I needed to hold her, tell her I was sorry. Tell her that I’d been an idiot, running away to war and leaving her to mourn alone. That I cared about her. That I wouldn’t leave her again. My heart tripped a crazy beat as I pulled rubble away with the fury of a man possessed. I had to find her.

  She was so close now, I felt as if I could practically touch her. She was right there. “Yell again!” I shouted into the rubble, and she shouted one more time, this time so close to me that I nearly jumped, her voice sounding right next to me.

  I’d been looking for the door to the room. I blinked, staring at the mirrored edge of her cracked vanity. It seemed I’d already found it.

  Chapter Four

  Sitra

  My head screamed in pain, my vision blurred when I tried to open my eyes. It hurt so badly, I shut my eyes again, but when I heard his voice growing louder and louder, hope blossomed in my chest.

  “Cy?” I asked, my voice hoarse and shaky. Something pressed against my left ankle, and a sharp pain in my side forced my breath out in gasps. “Where are you?”

  “Sitra!” A
large crash and boom sounded and the ground shook once again. I screamed as my wrists were still bound to the rings, and I couldn’t brace myself for any impact. But nothing happened to me. Instead, a flash of light caught my attention. It seemed the crash wasn’t another attack but Cy himself, lifting a piece of roof the size of my entire body, his muscles bulging and his horns contracting with the exertion.

  “Stay there!” he ordered. “Do not move!”

  I nearly laughed with relief. “Seriously? I’m bound to the bed by my wrists and ankles, and you’re telling me not to move?”

  He grinned as he heaved the huge piece of metal to the pile of rubble on the right.

  “Keep it up,” he said, relief apparent in his voice as he strode over to me. “They say wiseass comments help in trauma.”

  I craned my head to look at him. “Of course,” I said. “Entertaining you right now is certainly at the top of my priority list.”

  He shoved another, smaller piece of shrapnel to the left and crunched his way over to me, stepping over broken glass and the shattered remains of the bedroom and as he moved, fresh blood oozed from the torn sleeve of his shirt.

  “Cy! You’re hurt! Oh, my God!” The purplish fluid leaked steadily. I needed to help him. “Uncuff me so I can help you.”

  “I’m hurt?” he asked. “Fuck, Sitra, your leg is pinned beneath the bedpost.”

  I turned my head but couldn’t see far enough. “Shit,” I mumbled. “Can you lift it? Don’t hurt your arm.”

  He grunted, and at once I felt both the relief of the pressure and sharp, radiating pain along my ankle and lower calf. I swore vehemently, tears stinging my eyes as he made his way to the head of the bed.

  “You’re hurt badly,” he said, sweeping the hair off my forehead in a brief gesture of tenderness that made the tears flow freely. “But you’re okay. I’ll help you. Trust me?”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, as he reached for my wrists, twirling the access key in his finger and sliding it along the fastened cuffs. They both sprang open with the automatic disengage.