Flame of the Alpha

by Lacey Savage

  Saints above, he didn’t have time for this.

  Lunging for her, he lifted her off her feet in a smooth glide and hoisted her over his right shoulder ‑‑ the one he could still feel. She writhed and pummeled his back with closed fists, but what was a little more pain added to the agony that had been flaring in his body for the past twenty minutes?

  “Hey! Put me down!”

  He did. Right in the passenger seat.

  Before slamming the door closed, locking it with the security code and enforcing his own added override, he also pushed the small blue button that would strap her in.

  She was struggling with the keypad on the inside of the door when he climbed into the pilot seat beside her. “I changed it. The door won’t open.”

  She craned her neck to look at him, her eyes dark and unreadable. “You’re an ass, you know.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  In the back, one of the toddlers started to cry. Sophia stared at him for another long moment, then sighed and turned to reach behind her and calm the bawling tot.

  “They need me, you know. The priestesses, the guards, even the gardening staff. I’m responsible for all of them.”

  Dante keyed in the new code and felt the motor beneath him rumble to life. Memories flooded his thoughts as adrenaline turned his blood to ice. He could do this. He had to do this.

  “What do you think the former High Priestesses would say about that? They’re back there, fighting to give their offspring a chance to escape. Right now, these children and their mothers are depending on you. They need you more.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “And so do I.”

  She looked like she was about to argue. Dante sighed and yanked on the steering column. The feel of the craft leaving the ground jolted a shuddering thrill through his limbs. Saints, he’d forgotten how much he’d loved to fly. Being in control of a ship, having it obey his every command as it soared through space…there was nothing like it.

  The only time he’d even come close to capturing the euphoria of flight had been with Sophia, having her strapped down, completely at his command as he made her tremble with a mere flick of his wrist.

  His growl echoed through the cabin. The craft soared, higher and higher, toward the powder-blue sky. He didn’t know where they were going. It didn’t really matter, as long as they left Earth and all its archaic beliefs behind.

  The craft could get them as far as Mars. They’d find shelter there, at least for a little while.

  The sudden jolt that shook the craft was so unexpected it took Dante a full ten seconds to recognize it for what it was. “We’ve been hit! Hang on!”

  He focused on the blinking lights across the dashboard, pin-pointing the Central Command military ships assembling in formation to give chase. Fuck! He should have seen them sooner. He was out of practice. He’d needed to keep an eye on the enemy in order to avoid them before they landed a solid shot.

  None of the controls were flashing red, indicating nothing critical had been hit, but it was only a matter of time. Agony slid through him, sharp and intense. It speared his chest, knocking the oxygen from his lungs.

  He swerved to the right, letting the craft’s momentum carry it higher. If he could break through Earth’s atmosphere, he knew of an asteroid field nearby where the tiny craft would feel right at home. He just needed to evade the pursuit for a little while longer.

  His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering column. He refused to look at Sophia. The tension rolling from her was almost palpable as it filled the ship.

  The second shot to hit them wasn’t as benign as the first. It pierced the outer hull and jolted the inner-left engine, knocking it out. Thick black smoke filled the cabin.

  As he fought to keep control of the craft, the sudden soaring climb came to a grinding halt. In the blink of an eye, they were swirling downward, descending at an alarming rate.

  Earth’s landscape filled the view screen. He yanked hard on the steering column, to no avail. Trees flickered in his field of vision, growing larger alongside aged whitewashed buildings and metallic structures that spoke of newer designs.

  One of the Central Command ships flashed past them. The T23 had no weapons of its own. It was a private craft, not a military machine. Not that Dante could aim a laser weapon in the craft’s rapidly descending condition, but it would make him feel better to have his finger on the trigger anyway.

  Smoke clouded the view screen, blurring the image. Children’s coughs filled the air, high-pitched and terrifying. Through the dark haze, Dante could make out the angled archways and pointed roof of a structure he recognized well.

  “Saints, the Academy,” he whispered hoarsely as his fingers flew over the controls. “We’re going to crash into the Academy.”

  As though in mocking response, the craft began to plummet faster, taking a sudden nose-dive toward the inner cloister. The servants’ quarters were located there.

  It was happening again. He’d kill the very people he’d wanted to protect and take even more innocent lives in the process.

  Blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything but his own inner fury. This time, the beast remained leashed in its cage as the man took over.

  He called upon every moment of training he’d had in the Squadron and his fingers tapped out a series of commands across the flaring lights of the dashboard. He wasn’t familiar with this type of ship, but right now, that was the least of his concerns.

  The mechanical whirr of the remaining engine rolling over caused his seat to vibrate. He worked fast ‑‑ faster than he’d thought himself capable. Going on instinct alone, he transferred a small percentage of power lodged in other areas of the ship ‑‑ life support, lights, audible alarms ‑‑ into the working engine.

  The ground rushed up to meet them. Central Command officers dove out of the way as pleasure servants darted wildly between chambers, looking for a safe place to hide.

  There are no safe places on Earth. Not anymore.

  The thought flashed through his head for the second time in as many days. He darted his right hand out to grab Sophia’s while his left remained clamped on the steering column. He’d done all he could. It hadn’t worked.

  Sophia wrapped her smaller fingers around his palm and clung on for dear life. Behind them, the children’s coughs and whimpers had given way to a sudden, all-encompassing silence as everyone braced for impact.

  The engine turned over. Again. A third time.

  On impulse, Dante jerked the steering column toward him. When the craft stopped its sinking plummet and ground to a halt, he thought his heart might stand still right along with the ship.

  And then, two feet above the tiled roof, the craft’s nose filled the view screen. The ship sputtered and groaned, but held. The energy Dante had transferred from auxiliary sections propelled them swiftly upward, toward the sky.

  A moment later, another shot took out the remaining engine.

  Chapter Nine

  Events unfolded around Sophia in slow motion, as though she was wading through a dream over which she had no control. One moment, the ship was diving in a spiraled arc toward the ground. The next, it seemed to reconsider, deciding they were worthy of saving after all. And then, seemingly trapped in a nightmarish loop she couldn’t escape, they were once again plunging toward the Academy.

  By the time the craft came to a grinding halt again, she didn’t know which way was up anymore. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her fingernails digging frantically into Dante’s skin hard enough she thought she might have drawn blood.

  For a moment that stretched into eternity, she awaited the impact that never came.

  Then they were climbing again, slower this time, as though dragged along by an invisible force. Shots still shook the interior of the cabin, but they no longer rattled the equipment. Even the smoke had begun to clear, and the cries of small voices filled the air once again.

  She didn’t think she’d ever heard a sweeter sound.

  �
�Enigma,” Dante murmured, awe and disbelief in his voice. “They came.”

  She didn’t remember much of what came after that. Perhaps she’d passed out, the smoke clogging her lungs overcoming her will to fight. Or maybe coming so close to death had finally taken its toll.

  She didn’t know what had happened, or what would happen next.

  For once, it didn’t matter.

  She woke up to hushed voices whispering around her. Trying to open her eyes had no effect. Nor did speaking. She heard the voices clearly, though, talking about the force field someone named Ty had used to yank them out of harm’s way, and of the dogged Central Command pursuit.

  They spoke of a meteor field good for hiding small ships, and of Dante’s courageous attempt to get her and the children out. As for the children themselves, they were given a clean bill of health by Enigma’s doctor. Her heart seemed to lighten at that, as though a heavy weight that had lodged there had been lifted.

  She even thought she heard Rhyanne, the pleasure servant Faye had purchased for Quinn, speaking in hushed tones among all the other voices blending around her.

  The one voice she longed to hear above all others, however, remained silent.

  She must have passed out again, because by the time she could actually open her eyes, she was alone. She craned her neck a fraction of an inch and pain flared in her head. A steady ache slid down her limbs. It wasn’t acute enough to worry her, but it made it clear that she’d hadn’t moved in days. Perhaps longer.

  “Dante?” Her voice came out hoarse, as though she hadn’t used it much too long. Her lips were dry, too, and she moistened them with the tip of her tongue. “Are you here?”

  No answer. She tilted her head and glanced around the room, her pulse quickening when she realized it looked familiar.

  She recognized the large bay window facing the black velvet dotted with stars from her dream. And the sleek, metallic furniture with a distinctly masculine appeal. On the wall beside the bed, an old-fashioned quilt depicted a slumbering lion. To her right, the nightstand held a slender, curved glass vase with a simple synthetic rose. An electronic hand-held device had been propped against it. Words flickered across the surface, and it took Sophia a minute to focus long enough to read them.

  If I’m not there when you wake up, tap the screen. I’ll come running.

  Her heart lurched, knocking hard against her breastbone. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and did as she’d been instructed.

  For long, never-ending minutes, nothing happened.

  And then the door slid open and Dante’s muscular form filled the doorway. He wore a tight trader’s uniform stretched over his body, showing off his feral strength to rugged perfection. The leather servant collar was gone, leaving the column of his throat bare of everything but a faint, reddened imprint.

  Sophia’s lower lip trembled. Tears stung the back of her eyes. “You’re all right.”

  He neared the bed slowly, watching her with hungry, reverent eyes. “So are you.”

  She nodded and struggled to sit up. The room spun around her. “What happened?”

  Dante grimaced. The mattress dipped as he sat beside her and reached out to flick her bangs out of her eyes and to the side. “The energy I diverted from other areas of the ship interfered with your restraints. When Enigma caught us in its force field, you tumbled out of your seat and hit your head.”

  She prodded her forehead gingerly and noted a large bump just above her left temple. “That explains the headache.”

  Before she could make sense of what he intended, Dante leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. She opened to him greedily and pressed her hand to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his curls. His tongue darted between her lips, stroking hers. A shiver of awareness ran down her limbs, awakening nerve endings that had been asleep for much too long.

  “So everyone’s all right, then?” she asked when he drew back.

  His gaze skittered to the side and his muscles tensed. In the blink of an eye, his body language changed from relaxed relief to guarded reluctance.

  Sophia sucked in a breath, awaiting the worst.

  “We’ve lost contact with Earth. Quinn hasn’t been able to reach Faye. We’ve heard nothing of what’s happened there. Central Command has locked down all off-world communication. The planet is under self-imposed quarantine. Nothing goes in or out.”

  “Saints,” she whispered. “We know nothing of the Academy?”

  Dante shook his head. “Not a thing.”

  She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. Dante reached out and wiped it away with his thumb. “The children are safe. You’re safe. Our baby ‑‑” He slammed his mouth closed for an instant before continuing. “I’d do everything the same way in a heartbeat.”

  Sophia drew her bottom lip between her teeth and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Did you say…baby?”

  His large, masculine palm covered her stomach over the cream-colored blanket draping her to the waist. “I did.”

  Tears fell freely now, wetting her lashes, dripping onto the pillow cradling her head. He wiped them away one by one, with infinite patience.

  When the teardrops stopped falling, Dante placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose and slid into bed beside her. The blanket slipped lower another couple of inches, revealing the hem of the men’s shirt she wore. Below that, she could tell she had on a pair of panties, though considering she hadn’t been wearing any when they’d left Earth, she wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Or whose they were.

  That was a topic best left for later. If they came with the room, Dante had some explaining to do.

  He cupped her breast through the shirt, the warmth of his palm seeping through her pebbled nipple and causing a trembling shiver to break out over her skin.

  “This is going to sound supremely selfish, Priestess, but I’m never letting you go. I just thought I should make that perfectly clear.”

  She tilted her head, ignoring the pain that flared to life behind her brow and met his gaze head-on. His eyes had that same feline, golden-flecked quality that indicated he was close to losing control. Instinctively, she knew that only her condition and his concern for her kept him from tossing the blankets aside and thrusting his cock in her wet and more-than-willing pussy.

  She reached down and wrapped her hand around the bulge tenting his uniform. His cock pulsed beneath her palm, hot and thick and hard.

  “You promise?” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I can do better than that.” He tweaked her nipple between thumb and forefinger, wringing a desperate moan from her throat. “I’ll marry you.”

  She nearly choked on her surprised gasp. “Marriage? That’s been outlawed for hundreds of years. It’s impossible. It’s ‑‑”

  “Perfectly legal on many other planets. Call it whatever you will. A bonding ceremony, a mating union. Marriage. It’s all the same. I love you, Priestess. More than I ever thought possible. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

  Saints how she loved him, this wild, feral man who’d taken her life by storm and turned her predictable world upside-down. He’d swept her off her feet ‑‑ literally, and given her the stars. What more could she ask for?

  “On one condition.”

  Dante raised a questioning eyebrow, his golden eyes darkening with passion.

  “When we make love, the lion and his barbed cock stay where they both belong.” She stroked his shaft through the material of his uniform. “Locked up tight.”

  He bent his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, drawing the fabric of her shirt and the stiff bud between his teeth. When he released it, he graced her with a wicked grin. “What can I say, Priestess? You bring out the animal in me. I can control it…with practice.”

  “Practice?” She feigned a heavy sigh. “I suppose we can do that. One or two ‑‑”

  “Thousand times?” he put in hopefully. His hand inched its way down her stomach to cup her mound.
She arched her back, grinding against him. Cream seeped from her folds, soaking the fabric of the borrowed panties.

  “In that case,” she whispered as he slid the edge of the panties aside and nudged her wet slit with the tip of his finger, “we better get started.”

  Epilogue

  Sweat trickled down the back of Neo’s neck to disappear inside the high collar of his starched shirt, despite the air-conditioned breeze that wafted in at full force from a vent above his head. Appearing before the C.C.C. ‑‑ the Central Command Council ‑‑ always put him in a foul mood. This time was no different. They’d been going over the events that had occurred at the Academy for the past six hours, with no sign of letting up.

  The Council had fired the same questions at him, again and again. Why was he there? What had he been doing? Why couldn’t he stop an Alpha shifter and his Alpha whore before they fled into outer space?

  He could read the writing on the wall. His career was ruined. No, make that both careers. Not only would he be dismissed from Central Command, but no one would hire a Dom who couldn’t keep a leash on his only servant.

  “There have been serious charges raised against you, Captain Jolen. How do you plead?”

  Neo didn’t have to look up to recognize Lead Councilor McClane. He had a reputation for being a formidable investigator, and an absolutely ruthless opponent.

  “Not guilty, sir,” Neo replied.

  Silence descended around the room. Neo blew on his fourth refill of coffee to cool the steaming liquid, then looked up at the pedestal where the Council members sat at a long table, watching him with cold, judgmental gazes.

  “My esteemed colleagues wish to have you removed,” Councilor McClane said.

  Neo refused to take the bait. He folded his hands before him and waited for the inevitable conclusion to this never-ending day.

  “I, however, disagree. I think you have it in you to prove naysayers wrong, Captain Jolen.”

  Neo took a small, noncommittal sip of his coffee, but didn’t reply. There had to be a catch. There always was.