by Vi Voxley
Alien Warlords’ Heir
Warlords of Octava
Vi Voxley
Contents
A Little Taste…
Copyright
1. Dana
2. Havoc
3. Chase
4. Dana
5. Chase
6. Havoc
7. Dana
8. Chase
9. Havoc
10. Dana
11. Havoc
12. Chase
13. Dana
14. Havoc
15. Dana
16. Chase
17. Dana
18. Havoc
19. Dana
20. Dana
21. Chase
22. Dana
23. Dana
24. Havoc
25. Dana
26. Dana
27. Chase
28. Havoc
29. Dana
30. Dana
Epilogue
About the Author
Thank you for reading!
A Little Taste…
"Look at you guys. On Terra, we have all sorts of men. Some are big like you and some are not. To each their own, I always said. Before I came to Octava, I mean.
"Then I realized that there is some statute of hotness a woman can handle, some line in the sand that Gargons have crossed with your entire species. Everything about you is just so damn masculine. It's like catnip to women."
"Catnip?" Havoc asked, a hint of lust in his voice that he couldn't hide, and it having nothing to do with the question he asked.
"It means we can't resist you," Dana said, the look in her eyes making all air rush out of the room.
"Is that so?" he asked, standing up.
Her eyes went wide as Havoc slowly approached her, setting his own chalice down on the low table between them. He could see all the signs of hesitation, of the inner conflict that was raging in her.
She didn't say anything. Dana's lips opened and closed as she searched for words that didn't come.
Havoc had known that. He had seen the signs for days. Piece by piece, her stubbornness was falling behind, breaking down like the barriers she had built around herself. With every day, she had tempted him more, opening up without even noticing it.
The way her body moved when they were near was a clear testament to that. She no longer tensed up, on the contrary. Whenever he was close, Dana edged closer to him too.
He wondered if she knew that.
Havoc extended his hand to her, just like a week ago on the arena. This time, slowly, with her pulse so loud he could hear it, Dana took it. She let him pull her to her feet gently and then further, into his sure embrace.
It was indescribable, to hold her at last. The feeling of having her in his arms, the softness of her skin and the warmth of her body under his fingers... Havoc doubted he could have stopped.
Even so, he needed to be sure. Unlike Hannah, Dana was a wild, dangerous creature, one you never took for granted or underestimated. She needed to be tamed, brought in slowly and surely.
He lifted up her chin with his right hand, the left holding her against his wide chest. Without his armor, Havoc could feel her rapid heartbeat.
"Go ahead," he said quietly, his lips almost touching hers. "Resist."
Copyright © 2017 Vi Voxley
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Alien Warlords’ Heir
Warlords of Octava
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Vi Voxley. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Cover © Jack of Covers
1
Dana
Dana could always tell when the ship was celebrating the arrival.
A thousand or more women made a hell of a noise when they were cheerful.
On that day, they had good reason to be. The Sanguine was almost at their destination and Dana could smell the excitement in the air, even if it was considerably overshadowed by a myriad of different perfumes mixing together in the cramped hall.
She pushed through the mass of bodies to reach the bar. On a night like that, it was close to impossible, at least for a regular passenger. For their ambassador, the women made room and not only that, Dana didn't think she'd bought her own drinks in the three years she'd been doing the job.
Gratitude rolled off the women in waves, regardless of whether Dana actually did anything for them or not. The chance itself was enough. She was not directly in charge of the Sanguine, the captain took care of that, but since she was the official ambassador in charge of Terran-Gargon relations in regards to this trip, she was the only ‘captain’ that mattered to her passengers.
So this is where I ended up, she thought, only somewhat bitterly.
It was all a bit sad, really, especially when she looked at all those cheerful faces around her. The warmth they emanated towards their chosen representative was palpable, yet she never felt like she belonged with them.
"Ambassador," the barkeep Mack welcomed her with a nod. "Always a pleasure. What can I get you?"
He was one of the few men in the hall. Handsome in a rugged way, utterly desensitized to the crowd of gorgeous girls dancing through the night around him. They had bigger fish to fry and he knew that. Everyone aboard knew that.
It was why they were approaching the planet Octava, why they'd flown across the vastness of the Confederated Alliance of Species - CAS. Why they’d left their lives behind. Terra was close to the middle of the CAS, while Octava was a border world. The journey had been long.
It could be longer.
With that innate sense of empathy or the sixth sense or whatever barkeeps all over the universe were born with, Mack didn't require an answer from her. He took a bottle of dry red wine and handed it to Dana without questions, along with a complimentary glass.
"Go nuts," he said. "Although if you want to drown your sorrows, there are drinks that would get you there faster and with less of a headache in the morning."
"Thanks, Mack," Dana laughed, reminding herself that her personal feelings towards the mission were not a good reason to ruin the party for everyone. "I'm not trying to get wasted. I'm trying to foster a better mood before we get to Octava. Can't really enjoy myself there, you know that."
"It's not so bad," he offered a comfort. "Quite a few women here will find true love there. Can't you feel the hope in the air?"
"I can," Dana admitted, smiling sadly. "It's beautiful. It's why I'm still doing it. I just can't forget the words of the last ambassador – that I'm not only responsible for those who find what they're looking for, but those who I have to take back as well.
“Have a good night, Mack. Let's hope this time we go back with an empty ship."
Mack gave her a pitying look, his dark eyes shining in the lights of the dance floor. It sent the tiniest shudder through her yet it was as platonic as it had always been. Her body was simply noticing a male figure in the sea of women.
He was a nice guy, as far as guys went. Definitely not the one for her, which meant that Dana's attraction was a
sign she needed to get laid before she became one of the passengers of the Sanguine herself.
"You have to go on the surface?" Mack asked. "Can't you skip that? You've brought the girls so far. They can get acquainted with the Gargons themselves. Or send some of the crew to do it."
"No," Dana said firmly. "This is my duty. I brought them here, I make sure everything goes the way it should. In better and worse as they say."
She left with that so as not to give Mack another chance to press her to stay, waving to the barkeep with the bottle. Then she disappeared back into the crowd, knowing someone would put her on their tab. Several someones, usually.
"Don't mind me," she called back to Mack from a safe distance. "I'm just being melancholy. I've always stayed until the end of the festival. I'm not going to skip it this time."
As she headed for her table at the back end of the hall where it was a little dimmer and a little less crowded, Dana added in her mind:
Even if I badly want to. I wish I could pop one of the forget-it-alls like the others do. All this, it's too much when I have to think of the journey back.
She shuddered, thinking of the women who would have to travel with her back to Terra after the festival on Octava. If they didn't find what they had come looking for – namely, their fated match amongst the Gargon warriors – Dana would take them back to the ship and back home they'd fly.
It was the dark, sad side of the coin. There were always women who considered Octava their last chance to find love, regardless of whether that was true. The amount of hope they felt was biting when Dana knew more than half of them would take the trip back alone.
Some would willingly swallow the forget-it-all pill to wipe their memory of that loss, unable to cope with the shattering of their dreams otherwise.
She couldn't blame them. She also couldn't join them in that sweet ignorance. While the pill did exactly what its name said it did, it wasn’t something that Dana considered a viable option. Her memories were too valuable, and discomfort built character. Wiping it away… well, it was too much of a weakness to be taken as an option.
It would be too much to relive the first trip home to Terra all over again. Better to hope it dulls with time, as it has. Even a little helps.
Her mood improved considerably when she sat down at her regular table. Rebecca and Isabel were already waiting for her, both sporting much more fancy drinks, their faces shining with joy. In that light, they could have passed for twins.
Both had long, dark, obsidian hair that made them look like goddesses of ancient Egypt. Match that with piercing hazel eyes and chocolate-colored skin, they were knock-outs. Tall, lean like poles, with flashing perfect smiles.
Not the type of girls who were used to hearing "no" from guys, even if Dana knew Gargons didn't work like that. All the women aboard the Sanguine were equals to them. Fate didn't care for looks or past history. The bond drew in the perfect companions and that was how it went down.
Compared to them, Dana was a splash of color. Her mother had called her "autumn in full bloom" when she'd been little. Dana had red hair the color of cherry wood, deep blue eyes and a healthy complexion from spending most of her time in the ship's greenhouses.
The loss of natural sunlight had been the worst part of her job, even with the trip back a strong contender. The artificial replication of actual weather was the best the Sanguine could do and she took full advantage of it.
In her mind, the autumn-y look was a bit much. Dana was sort of glad for the ghastly brown uniform that added a little blandness to the mix and hid her curves from the sights of all men.
I have to be the only woman aboard not thrilled about seeing the Gargons. Sure, they're very easy on the eyes and I can't say I would mind a swimsuit edition of a few of them, but those bonds... no, thank you.
"Ambassador," Rebecca greeted her with a mocking bow. "We didn't know if you'd make it. Is little Sean sleeping already? How can anyone sleep on this ship today?"
That was a fair point, considering that even in the secluded corner, Dana barely heard her over the din of the party. She pressed the button on table, bringing up a low-level noise shield, making having a conversation a little more tolerable. The girls rolled their eyes, as she'd known they would.
Brats. Love them though. It's been a while since I've dared to make friends. It's hard enough to watch heart-broken women I don't know, it’s worse if I care about them personally.
"Sean is napping, yes," Dana said, hoping her son was one of the few people aboard who actually managed to sleep that night under the protective shell of a much more powerful noise shield. "And he's not so little anymore. He's seven years old. A grown man as he keeps telling me. It's all those damned Gargons he keeps seeing trip after trip. I think they're a bad influence on him."
Even if gods know he can use a good father figure. In that sense, they're not so bad.
The girls laughed like one. It went without saying they had a much higher opinion of the Gargons.
"So," Isabel prompted. "Why so sour? This is amazing. We're almost there!"
That would be the problem, yes.
Dana poured herself some wine, a modest amount to go with the fruits and other treats on the table. She didn't know what to say. She never did at that point.
"Yes," she agreed finally when the smiles of her friends started fading. "I keep telling everyone. Don't mind me. I just don't enjoy Octava."
"They say it's gorgeous," Rebecca pointed out, beaming. "Like a paradise. They say the villas built under the mountain range of Roapur are particularly breath-taking. Imagine if I got to live in one of those!"
"Lucky you," Dana said, feeling her sour mood wash away in the face of her friends' excitement. "Those belong to the warlords. If you land one of them, I might actually visit you.
"Anyway, it's not the planet I don't like. Octava's one hell of a beautiful place, I'll give you that."
"What is it then?" Isabel asked, gesturing with a cocktail glass. "It's a planet populated by total hunks. Not just handsome men, no, but the most stunning men alive! I mean, who cares that they have those weird body modifications? Mine can have a tail if he wants to, as long as everything else is working."
It was Dana's turn to roll her eyes.
"They don't have tails," she felt the need to point out. "The body modifications are a big deal to the warriors. They represent their weapon specialty, their accomplishments. It's not nearly as bad as you think.
"Most of them are like... tattoos, I suppose you'd say. Only they do stuff in addition to looking good. The ink seeps into their nervous system and starts feeding the skill and the senses they need to be better at what they do. Blue ink, for example, marks precision. Snipers, for example. Their senses get sharper, all physical tremors stop. They can achieve the perfect calm."
Now her friends were actually taking an interest. It was why Dana liked them. On the surface, they seemed as shallow as some of the women were on all the trips she'd taken – looking to bang hot alien warriors. Deep down, there was more, however.
They both longed for the kind of connection the Gargon bonds promised. Eternal love, true joining of souls.
It was all quite beautiful. Dana often found herself irritated on the first day of the Sanguine's journey when she met her new group of potential brides. Many of them spoke of pecs and cocks and all the stuff you could do with guys who were able to fuck you senseless ten times a day.
As time passed, however, most of the women turned out to be for real, which was what made Dana so sad for them. They stopped ogling at the images of the warriors and piece by piece, the truth seeped out.
Everyone knew the Gargon part of the story. For some reason, the bonds in the midst of their own species grew rarer every day. As they represented the Alliance's only hope to survive in a vicious and dangerous galaxy, the other members of the CAS tried to help.
While the Gargons prepared to protect their borders against the Iron League – another problem Dana didn't want to even cons
ider before she needed to – ships like hers sailed towards their home planet Octava, bearing potential brides for their inspection.
All volunteers, all very willing.
At first, she'd thought it was a bit perverse. After speaking with a few women, she realized they weren't the victims she might have originally imagined they were.
That was the lesser known truth.
Sure, there were always a few nymphomaniacs aboard, hoping to score a sexy one-night-stand, if not the real thing. Mostly though, the Sanguine attracted hopeless romantics. Brokenhearted women, girls who dreamed of Love with a capital L, widows who hoped someone would light that spark in them again.
Women who didn't believe in love, yet wanted to be proved wrong more than anything. Women who thought life and love both were one big adventure, fearless in their own right.
Rebecca and Isabel, in Dana's expert mind, belonged to that last category. If she'd believed in any gods, she would have prayed to them that everything they dreamed of would come true.
After all, who wouldn't have wanted what the Gargons offered?
Dana, that was who.
She'd learned the hard way there was always a catch and the catch in the case of Gargons was obvious. Babies – they all wanted babies to ensure their species continued.
While Dana understood the need to repopulate, it left a bad taste in her mouth. As a mother herself, the birth of a new life was a miracle to her, a thing of wonder, not some clause in a contract that fate signed for her. People who truly wanted to have a child together were supposed to have them, to love and cherish them forever as she loved Sean.
The Gargons made it sound like ticking off their personal contribution to the population statistics.
She’d seen the posters one too many times. As a dying race, each Gargon was motivated to have as many offspring as possible, whether they were the kind of people who should have children or not.
Dana hated the idea of bringing a living, breathing, beautiful child into the world just to fill some quota.
