Sarazen's Claim, Book One

by Isabel Wroth

  There was silence from the survivors, from her wide eyed people, and Tarek grunted, “Those of you who have refused medical treatment, will not leave your quarters. Your species is unknown to us, you may carry pathogens that will affect my people and I will not allow that possibility. Quarters for the females will from this point on be separate from the males, because I do not trust them to be safe among some of you.” The women were already on the move, and she saw the surprise on many of the faces of the remaining men. She wasn’t sure if it was surprise because they were so readily accepting the separate quarters, or the plainly spoken implication that the reason the women weren’t safe, was because of them, and not the unknown aliens.

  The purple eyed warrior who had reported to Tarek earlier moved to a space of blank wall between a row of bunks and waved his hand to the left side of that wall. It slid back to reveal another room beyond, an empty room, which the women entered without prompting and she saw one of them, the shortest, pause and look up as she passed him. Saw her lips move, and the warrior’s jaw clench before he nodded sharply. She didn’t look back as she passed into the next room. Tarek grunted and all eyes swung back to him. “I will return after the evening meal and hear your unanimous choice for a representative of this company. Am I understood?” Some of the men nodded, the rest just looked scared shitless. “Very well. Everything that you require is in this room, my warriors will remain outside if you choose to accept our medical exams. Those two have received such an exam and may come and go as they please.”

  Tarek looked down at her expectantly, and without a word, she passed him and moved through the open door to join the other women. He followed, and so did the one with the purple eyes, the door closing behind them to form a once again seamless looking wall. Tarek looked at her and quirked his brow as he reverted to his native language. “I have no care for your military structure. Sarazens would never choose such a male to lead them.”

  Her lips twitched as her nerves settled, and she watched his pupils shift back to normal and the massive seeming fangs recede into his gums. He lifted his chin at her, his jaw clenching briefly and she wondered if it ached. Or if the movement of those big fangs of his hurt when they retracted. “They have questions. Do what you can to soothe their fears.” She nodded and he flicked his fingers at the one with purple eyes, commanding him out, but the massive warrior hesitated, clearly torn. “May I speak to your female, Commander?” Tarek’s eyes narrowed, but when he didn’t object, the other male looked directly at her. She opted at this point to not object to having been claimed by Tarek, or correct anyone else’s assumptions to that strange fact. “I am called Ohlen, my lady. The small one, she was most frightened by the coward. He hurt her,”

  These warriors were so strangely protective, so careful and gentle with her and the other women. It was strange to her that such massive, terrifying males didn’t use their size or their clearly superior strength to frighten them. That Tarek had found Ethan’s words so objectionable that he’d thrown him clear across the room. She knew that not all men were like Ethan, but that it didn’t matter to them if they were breeders or not, sterile or not, they treated them the same. With respect, and honor. “She is small, easily overpowered, sterile. So long as she continued to perform her duties aboard the ship, nothing would have been said, or done. I don’t know her personally, but it is possible.”

  His pupils slit up, and the purple became almost neon in its vibrancy, a little feline yeowl passed his lips, and Tarek put his arm across her body and pushed her back away from the warrior. “Ohlen, settle.” Tarek hissed dangerously, and the warrior nodded, drawing a deep breath, then another and the shifting of his eyes softened and his pupils returned to normal. “My apologies,” He managed to grate out, and he gave her a short bow before turning to leave. But not without shooting a look to the dark haired girl at the back of the pack of women. “You do not know her, but you know that she is sterile?” Tarek asked gently, and she tilted her head towards them, “Green patches on the right sleeve of their uniforms identify women granted breeding rights. Red on the right sleeve identify those who were not.”

  His lips twitched in that feral grimace she was becoming familiar with, and his hands fisted at his sides for a moment, “This is a common room between two barracks, that door there leads to their quarters, between each row of sleeping cubicles is a locker with a gown like yours. Tell them they may discard their uniforms if they wish. I will return for you in two of your earth hours." She nodded, and he bent to touch his brow to hers, a soft purr rumbling in his chest before he straightened and followed the exit his warrior had taken. She watched the space he had disappeared, the door having hissed shut behind him as soon as he had passed it, and for some ridiculous reason, she felt alone. “Lieutenant? Are you alright?”

  Seven

  He watched his mate through the security monitors at the bridge as she gathered the human females and brought them into their sleeping quarters and sat them all down on the floor. He’d forgotten to tell her about the ship’s computer that with a word would have had comfortable lounges raised from the floor for them each to sit upon. He used his tablet to key up the controls for that room and instructed the computer to raise the seating for them, smiling at their nervousness, how they touched the seats tentatively before sitting. “What will you do with the males?” He tore his eyes away from the sight of his beautiful, stunning mate, and glanced at his second, Falken, then to the screen where the males were pacing in small groups.

  The dark haired one, the coward that had been found behind a sealed door was ranting again. He curled his lip at the mere sight of him, fully prepared to throw the bastard out the airlock, but he wouldn’t, not yet. He would allow his female to choose his fate for the way he had spoken to her. “Any who choose the coward to lead, we will send back to their ship.” Falken’s grin was bloodthirsty, and he did not argue. “Ohlen has begun to bond with one of the females.” Falken grunted, “The small one, I know. He carried her from the ship and refused to allow any of us to touch her.”

  “None of them called your beast?”

  “No. But I have not met all of them. I was here, while you were tending to your mate.”

  There was no censure in his tone, no jealousy, perhaps a hint of wistful sadness. Falken was the only other male he knew who had lived as long as he had, and not called a mate. They had watched together as warrior after warrior had been called, rejoiced in their honor, and for well over half their lives devoted themselves to the fighting force of their people. Protecting what was precious and allowing it to thrive and flourish. “Come with me then, when I return to her.” Falken nodded sharply, but the bleak hopelessness in his eyes said he didn’t hold out hope that any of the human females would call to him.

  He didn’t know what to say, how to assure him there was hope, because before he had seen Clary walking off of the primitive looking transport and scented the blood dripping down her arm, he had not held any hope either. He looked back to her now, glad that she had taken her hair down upon rising this morning, allowing him to see the slick crimson sheet of it swinging freely to her hips. She was the tallest among the human females, the most beautiful to his eyes, her features soft and exotic and her body made for touching. Carrying her had given him the greatest pleasure he had yet imagined, feeling her softness pressed against him, the weight of her settling some base, primal instinct in him.

  It had been the injections for pain Ga’rae had given her, but his mate had shed her ridiculous uniform and bared her beautiful body to him without having thought of the hellish torment it had been for him not to touch and explore the softness of her. He was frankly fascinated by the curves the females of her species possessed, and she possessed the most sensual figure out of all of them. Her legs were long, her hips rounded and gave way to the gentle nip of her waist, the perfect shape for his hands to grip her tight while he bred her. She had a tiny tuft of curls at the apex of her thighs, but the lips of her sex were smooth and perfectly
pink, he’d caught the scent of her need several times and had nearly lost control of his shift, his beast wanting free reign to take what belonged to them. That delicious haven gave way to her delicate ribcage, and to the full, deliriously enthralling mounds of her breasts.

  Sarazen females only developed breasts when carrying cubs, to feed them, but then once the cubs were weaned, they disappeared. Clary’s breasts were…stunning. He wanted to lick, suckle, bite at them and see if it would bring her pleasure, because it sure as hell would bring him pleasure. He’d thought when he had first seen the females, seen Clary that they all must have been carrying cubs because each of them had such breasts. Not as full or beautiful as Clary’s, but breasts all the same. So to hear later that their people had purposefully sterilized them…it had been baffling. He understood how a ship with finite resources would want to control the population, but mutilating their females was not the way. The males had not been sterilized, just the females. It was disgraceful. And thoughts for another time, because it did not matter. The blood of a mate, a true mate, would heal anything. He returned to staring at his mate while she answered the questions of her fellow females. “Oh!”

  His attention was torn away again when Falken chortled, and he saw that one of the human males had put the coward on his ass. One of the ones that had come with his Clary. He was shouting something at the coward, being held back by several of his companions, “Remove him, and the other that came with my mate. She will be displeased with me if they are harmed.” Falken was still chuckling as he relayed the order, and two of his warriors entered the barracks to remove the two young males. The coward picked himself up off the floor and called something after them that appeared to be an insult, because the two tried to throw themselves back into the room and had to be physically removed. “I think it’s time for us to go down now,” Falken drawled with that grin still on his face, and he nodded in agreement.

  His warriors had detained the two males who had come with Clary, and he nodded to them, not having to ask who they had chosen. When he stepped into the female’s quarters, each of them had discarded their uniforms for the dresses that had been provided and were waiting, still uncertain and frightened but clearly having chosen wisely. Clary shot him a smile, and he inclined his head to her, offering his hand and felt honest relief when she came to him and slipped her small, soft hand into his. “Is all well?” She shrugged and glanced at her people, “As well as can be expected. The ones who came with me are a little ahead of the game, the others are coming around slowly. They’re glad to be alive, and wanted me to say thank you. They’ve all agreed to medical exams, but…” She hesitated, gnawing on her lip while she struggled to speak her mind, “If they are frightened, there is no shame in it.” She smiled briefly and shook her head, “It’s not that, I told them not to choose me, but they did.”

  He grinned, wholly unsurprised by the female’s choosing his mate to lead them. She had more spirit than any of them and would be a fine leader, for now. But soon all of the females would call one of his warriors, he hoped, and his little mate would need not fear such responsibility. He would care for her, and figure something out for the males. He stroked his fingers down the soft edge of her jaw and saw her lashes flutter in response, “Of course they did. I was mistaken,”

  “About?”

  “Clearly, females who study flowers do lead warriors.”

  Her blush was adorable, and he had to fight to keep his need from showing plainly. His warriors could smell it, but his little human mate had no such ability and for a while longer he was able to keep from frightening her further with more changes than she was able to cope with. “They have chosen wisely. Clary Starborn, this is Falken, my Second Commander,” He turned to introduce her to his oldest friend, but Falken was too busy staring at one of the females. He followed the line of his sight and saw that he was staring at one of the females with pale hair and dark eyes. She didn’t appear to be pleased with Falken’s scrutiny and snapped at him, “What are you staring at?” He lifted his brows at her waspishness, but Falken wasn’t deterred, “Remarkable beauty.” The female frowned like no one had ever told her she was beautiful, and confused as to whether or not Falken was being insincere. “Falken?”

  It was obviously difficult for him to tear his gaze away, and he understood the sensation of not wanting to let his mate out of his sight. But when he did, there was triumph in his friend’s gold gaze, and he nodded tightly, half grinning as he answered, “Yes.” He was thrilled for his friend, relieved, because he would not be leaving him behind and offered his arm, grinning at him, “The God’s smile on us, my friend.” Falken squeezed his arm tightly, and Clary cleared her throat. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Clary Starborn. We will escort you and your female companions to the medical bay. I imagine some of them are frightened and would welcome your presence.”

  Clary nodded and looked from the two of them to where Ohlen was waiting, staring at the tiny little female. He took pity on his men and bent to murmur softly in Clary’s ear, “I will explain to you how important you and all of these females are to us, soon. Falken and Ohlen both have been called by two of these females, would you grant them succor and give their names?” He felt her tremble, but she gave no scent of fear, in fact the scent that filled his nostrils was sweeter. Her desire. His voice in her ear, his closeness, it made her respond to him, desire him. “C-called?” She whispered back, her voice breathless, huskier, and the musk of her want deepened when he purred for her, “As you have called me.”

  “O-oh. The mate thing?”

  He laughed and touched his nose to her hair, inhaling deeply of her scent and looking up through the veil of his lashes to see all of the females focused intently on what he was doing, some of them worried, others intrigued, a few frightened, and Ohlen’s little one looked saddened. On the verge of tears as she looked away and hugged her arms around herself. “Yes, the mate thing. Are you prepared to speak of it yet?” She shook her head quickly, and he hummed, hoping that soon she would be ready to hear and accept what the God’s had gifted to them. “Very well. Perhaps this evening.”

  He straightened and kept her close, looking at the other females while Clary got hold of herself and introduced them to the women. Falken’s mate was called Cassie Arianite, and the small one belonging to Ohlen was Andi Starsong. “You are siblings?” He asked his Clary, nodding to Olen’s mate, hoping Falken’s female was not related to the cowardly male in the adjacent barracks. But to his relief, Clary shook her head. “No. We were born on the same ship. We have no surnames, just our first name and the ship we were born on. It’s kind of a long story.” He nodded and let his hand slide down the long, delicate arch of her spine to settle just above the round of her shapely backside. “For later, then. Come,” A few of the females hid giggles behind their hands, and he looked down at his mate to see that she was blushing and had rolled her lips together to keep from smiling. “Is something amusing?” He asked, and the females all shook their heads and fell into line to follow them out. He looked down at Clary and arched his brow in question, but she shook her head and blushed, “Later.”

  Clary quietly questioned him when he instructed Ga’rae to give only Cassie and Andi translator chips. She was smart, his female, speaking in the Sarazen tongue and not her own when she asked, protecting the already uncertain females who seemed terrified of Ga’rae, but were listening to the six who had already undergone the exam and assuring them that Ga’rae was very gentle despite his size. “They have called my warriors, Clary. They will need to understand our words so that their mates can soothe their fears, whatever they may be. The little one especially.”

  “How can you be certain these injections won’t be harmful to us? Our biological systems are not possibly the same, a dose of anything helpful to you, could be toxic to us.”

  He looked up to see another small, red haired female who was about to climb up on the medical table, was glaring at Ga’rae. And Ga’rae had this look on his face that was bot
h insulted and fascinated at the same time. His lips twitched, because it appeared that another of his warriors had been called. “My scans of your biological systems indicate that our races are similar in many ways. And all injections given, female, are engineered by a computer advanced beyond your comprehension, specifically to suit your species. Nothing I will give you, will cause any kind of harmful reaction. Are you sterile?” The female lifted her chin and glared hotly at Ga’rae. “Is that relevant?” Ga’rae pointed to his Clary and growled at the bold little female, “In reaction to being given blood, your Commander suffered excruciating pain while her womb was regenerated by it. Had I known it, I could have better prepared and given her a tonic for pain before it began. So yes, female, it is relevant.”

  By this time Ga’rae had drawn himself up to his full height, glaring at his mate with fire and desire in his eyes, and the little witch climbed up on the table so that she could meet that gaze and drilled her finger into Ga’rae’s chest. “If your scanning equipment is so good, how could you have missed the fact that her uterus was missing? Huh? And what kind of doctor are you, that you would give a patient blood without knowing her blood type?” Clary cleared her throat loudly, “Gwen, stand down. Now.” His cock swelled in vicious reaction to the sound of her voice having hardened with command. The furious female atop the table huffed, promptly sat down on her ass and lay back on the table with one more defiant glare for his medic. “And for your information, yes, I’m sterile.”