Imperator: A Scifi Alien Romance (Galactic Gladiators Book 11)

by Anna Hackett

  Sam pressed a closed fist to her heart. She stared at the things, the pretty things that she’d dreamed about, and dragged in some deep breaths.

  Suddenly, the bedroom door slammed open and her fellow humans charged in.

  “Time for breakfast,” the red-headed Rory called out.

  Something touched Sam’s ankle and she looked down. A robot dog was sniffing at her feet.

  “Don’t mind Hero,” Rory said. “He’s just memorizing your scent.”

  “Where’s your baby?” Sam asked.

  “Having some daddy time. My gladiator is gaga for that kid.”

  “I have some clothes for you, courtesy of our generous imperator.” Madeline bustled forward with an armload of various-colored fabrics. “Get dressed while we get breakfast set up on the balcony.”

  Sam just blinked at them. It had been so long since she’d spent time with friends. So long since anyone had cared. “Thank you.”

  In the bathroom, she pulled on a supple pair of leather pants and a deep-red shirt. Before she knew it, she was stepping out onto her balcony.

  Sweet, blonde-haired Regan and Harper were supervising the workers setting food on the low tables. The rest of the women, including the small, blonde Mia, were sitting on large, comfy cushions. The tables were laden with all kinds of food—most that she didn’t recognize, but that didn’t matter. It smelled good.

  Then, Sam heard the sound of swords clashing. Her gaze went past the railing and on the sand below, she saw a group of gladiator recruits training. There was a flash of red, and she spotted Raiden, with the large Thorin by his side. Her gaze sharpened as she took in some of the training moves.

  “I thought you’d be sick of fighting,” Regan said quietly.

  Rory snorted. “I think she’s taking in the view.” The woman winked. “Can’t complain about the view around here.”

  Sam picked up a green berry off a plate. “I’m more interested in seeing what the training involves.”

  Harper smiled. “Once a security officer, always a security officer.”

  Rory shoved a bread roll in her mouth. “Sure.”

  “Are you okay?” Harper’s face was serious as she looked at Sam.

  “To tell you the truth… No,” Sam answered honestly. “Everything feels surreal. I keep thinking that at any moment, someone is going to grab me and drag me off to a cell.”

  The women fell silent, sympathy on their faces.

  “We all understand, Sam,” Regan said. “I used to have nightmares when I first arrived at the House of Galen.”

  “And none of us will ever forget the cells and captivity,” Harper added.

  Sam stiffened her spine. She knew they’d all been through their own terrible ordeals with the Thraxians. “I keep waiting to wake up and find my escape was just a dream.” She managed to smile at Harper. “But I will be okay.”

  Harper nodded. “It takes time. But just remember that you’re safe and free.”

  “I had nightmares for a while too,” Mia said.

  “Mine finally stopped.” Regan blushed prettily. “Especially when I’m snuggled up to my gladiator.”

  Sam tried to imagine the huge, wild Thorin snuggling and failed. “I’m so glad you’re all okay.” She let her gaze rest on each of the women. They all looked happy and healthy. “You are all okay, right? No one is forcing you—”

  Laughter broke out around the table.

  Regan leaned forward. “We are all in love with protective, alpha-male, alien gladiators.”

  “Galen took us in,” Madeline said. “He moved mountains to help rescue all of us.”

  Regan nodded, her blonde hair shifting around her face. “He didn’t just rescue us, he gave us all whatever we needed to heal. Like my lab.”

  “My job in maintenance,” Rory added.

  “I’m in the arena,” Harper said. “Winter’s working in Medical, that’s why she isn’t here this morning. Madeline’s doing House administration, Mia’s performing at the Dark Nebula Casino, and even though Galen wasn’t happy about it, he let Dayna, Neve, Ever, and Ryan go with their men.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Madeline said. “He never asks for anything in return.”

  Sam felt all the women watching her expectantly. She cleared her throat. “I know. He’s a good fighter too. I would never have made it out without him.”

  “I saw the way he was with you on the ship,” Harper said.

  Sam reached out, grabbing a glass of some blue-tinted juice. “Galen watches everything, and he’s protective to the bone.”

  “Yes, but he watches you,” Harper said.

  Rory leaned forward. “Really?” There was a gleeful tone to her voice.

  Sam sipped the drink. It was good. “I know all of you are in love and happy, and you want to spread the joy…”

  Rory pouted. “So nothing happened between the two of you?”

  “We fought a ton of Thraxians and their fighters, jumped off a floating desert arena, almost got eaten by a huge desert beast that tried to drag us underground, and barely survived the desert. That’s what happened between the two of us.”

  The women all stared at her with open mouths.

  Harper patted her arm. “I am so glad you made it.”

  “Bummer,” Rory said. “God, I so want to know how that man kisses.” The redhead’s gaze turned distant. “He’s so controlled and in charge. I wonder what it’s like when he lets loose.”

  Sam’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t you have a man?”

  “Yes, but I’m still allowed to wonder what would make the oh-so-controlled Galen lose his control.” Rory grinned. “Don’t you wonder about kissing him?”

  Sam looked away to the side and took another sip of her drink.

  “Oh, my God,” Regan breathed. “You’ve already kissed him.”

  The women all gasped.

  “I’m not discussing this with you,” Sam said.

  “Why not?” Rory asked.

  Harper crossed her arms. “All right, ladies. Leave her alone.”

  There was a knock on the bedroom door, and through the archway, Sam saw Galen enter her room.

  The women all went silent, their eyes bugging out of their head. As one, they stared at him.

  Sam did too. She figured that this was his standard uniform. Black leather trousers, a tight, black shirt that molded over his hard muscles, and a black cloak that fell back behind him. He looked hard and fierce and in control.

  All the things that tripped Sam’s trigger. Big time.

  The women were looking at Galen, but when Sam sat back in her seat, she realized that Regan was watching her. Then the woman’s gaze moved between her and Galen, and she giggled.

  “Hey, G,” Rory called out with a smile.

  Galen took them all in, his face impassive. “Good morning.” His icy-blue gaze zeroed in on Sam. “Sam, you’re due at Medical.”

  For her implant removal. She stood and nodded at the women. “I’ll see you all later. Thanks for breakfast.”

  As she left, she was followed by a wave of good-natured laughing and goodbyes.

  She stepped into the hall with Galen. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Well, again for rescuing me, but also for the lovely things you put in my room.”

  He looked ahead. “You’re welcome.” He was quiet for a minute, holding the door open for her. “You’ve been alone a long time, Sam, but you aren’t alone anymore.”

  The warmth of his words carried her through the stone-lined corridors. She took in the House of Galen as they walked. It was clean, organized, and looked well-run. She’d expected nothing less. She glanced at one of the wall hangings on the wall, depicting gladiators in battle. It was a fine piece of art.

  “I was hoping I could ask you something?” she said.

  “Anything.”

  “I’d like to speak with my family.”

  He nodded. “I’ll contact Zhim and organize it.”

  “Thanks.
” He just kept giving her things. She wished she could give something back.

  He led her through a set of doors and she took in the neat, tidy Medical area of the House of Galen. She spied Winter, who was working with some of the tall Hermia healers. The human woman bustled up to her with a smile.

  “Hi, Sam. So wonderful to see you.”

  That’s when Sam noticed several tall men standing behind Winter. Men with metal arms and several metallic implants. Sam instantly stiffened. Cyborgs. After having her own implant forced on her and seeing the implanted fighters at Zaabha, the cyborgs left her wary.

  Another woman pushed past the largest of the cyborgs. It was Ever Haynes, a woman Sam had helped at Zaabha. The woman was cradling a baby.

  “Hi,” Ever said. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Sam.”

  “Ever.” Sam’s gaze fell on the baby. “I thought Rory had a baby.”

  “She does. So do I.” Ever tilted the pink-wrapped bundle up to show a tiny, sleeping face with a cupid’s-bow mouth. “This is Asha. Crazy, isn’t it?”

  Sam sucked in a breath. “You were pregnant at Zaabha?”

  “Yes, and now I’m a mom.” Ever shook her head, her dark hair sliding over her shoulder. “It’s a crazy, complicated story, but my cyborg here is Asha’s daddy.” Ever nudged the big, silent Magnus Rone standing behind her.

  Sam blinked. Somehow, Ever had given birth to the Imperator of the House of Rone’s baby. She shook her head.

  “Asha’s name means hope, life.” Ever smiled at her baby. “Seemed appropriate.”

  A hand touched Sam’s shoulder and she felt the electric zing of Galen’s touch.

  “The House of Rone healers have more experience with implants and how they integrate with organic cells,” Galen explained. “I asked Magnus if they could assist my healers in removing your implant.”

  Ever gripped Sam’s arm. “There’s nothing to it. They removed mine with no problems. This is Avarn.” She nodded to a nearby older man, who had long, white hair pulled back in a ponytail. “He’s head healer for the House of Rone.”

  The man inclined his head.

  Sam set her shoulders back. “Right. Let’s get this done, shall we?”

  Following instructions, she climbed onto a bunk and lay down. She focused on the Hermia healer touching her head. The healer was tall and very slender, with a bald head and large green eyes. She knew they were genderless.

  Someone shifted some equipment and a bright light shone in Sam’s face. Her breath quickened and her pulse jumped. She’d spent some unpleasant time in the lab at Zaabha.

  Flashbacks gripped her. Thraxian scientists poking and prodding, pain and screams.

  “Sam?” Winter’s concerned voice.

  Sam swallowed, trying to fight her way through the flashbacks.

  Firm fingers gripped her shoulder and squeezed. She scented Galen and instantly, the memories faded.

  “I’m here,” he said. “You’re okay.”

  “They…” She swallowed. “The lab at Zaabha wasn’t much fun.”

  His fingers stroked her skin. “You aren’t at Zaabha. You’re safe.”

  He stayed close, touching her shoulder as the healers got to work on the implant. She heard the cyborgs talking in clipped tones, and the Hermia healers speaking in their melodious, calm voices.

  Sam closed her eyes and tried to drift away. She felt the tugging at her skin, but it didn’t hurt. More tugging and her stomach rolled. Dios, it felt just like when the Thraxians had put the damn thing in, except she’d been strapped down and screaming.

  “Sam.” Galen’s lips brushed her other temple. “It’s almost over.”

  She wanted to lean into his touch. His voice was enough for her to fight to the surface. She was in the House of Galen. She was safe.

  “All finished,” Winter said.

  “The procedure is complete,” came the modulated voice of Garda, the Hermia healer.

  “Already?” Sam opened her eyes and saw Galen’s rugged face.

  He nodded and helped her sit up. “You did great.” He glanced at the healers. “I want that implant examined straightaway.”

  The medical staff all nodded. Galen looked back at Sam and tilted her face up.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Better. I’m glad it’s over.” He stroked her temple and Sam tried to suppress a shiver. “Galen—”

  Suddenly, the doors to Medical opened and several House of Galen guards rushed in.

  The lead man rested his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, his face tense. “Imperator, you’re needed.”

  Galen straightened, and Sam’s stomach clenched.

  “What’s happened?” Galen demanded.

  “A riot has broken out at the House of Zeringei, sir,” the second guard said. “They’re tearing it apart, and everyone is too afraid to help.”

  Chapter Six

  Galen stormed through the corridor, barking orders at his assembling gladiators and guards.

  “All right, let’s get to the House of Zeringei.”

  Sam fell into step beside him and he glanced at her. She was wearing fighting leathers, her toned arms on display, and long legs encased in supple, brown leather. The hilt of a sword was visible over her shoulder, sitting snug in the scabbard on her back.

  “You’re not coming,” he ground out.

  She lifted her chin, keeping pace with him. “I never signed up for you to give me orders.”

  “You’re House of Galen now.”

  “Yes, so I’ll be a part of this house. And I’ll fight when needed.”

  Galen ground his teeth together. “You just got out of Medical.”

  “And I’m fine. Over the last few months, I was forced into the arena battered and bloody. Today, I feel good, and I’m choosing to help.”

  He stopped and spun to face her, his black cloak flaring out behind him. He sensed his gladiators watching them with avid interest.

  Sam stared back at him.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”

  A small smile flirted on her lips and she nodded.

  As they exited the House of Galen, they broke into a jog, moving through the corridors beneath the arena. As they neared the House of Zeringei, Galen could hear screams and the sound of fighting.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he glanced at Raiden. His champion’s face was set in hard lines.

  Something terrible was happening inside.

  Galen looked back at Sam. She looked steady and determined, exactly how her essence felt. He gave them both a short nod and they rounded the final corner.

  The large doors into the House of Zeringei were thrown open. He saw several Zeringei gladiators—big, four-armed fighters covered in silver-gray fur—fighting their own people, including innocent, unarmed workers. The gladiators fought brutally, in an uncontrolled frenzy. The tangled mix of essences slammed into him.

  There were several bodies littering the floor and, closest to the door, Galen saw a large gladiator raise two swords over a cowering young man.

  Galen charged ahead, jamming his own blade against the other gladiator’s. He’d replaced the sword he’d lost at Zaabha and he saw the blue-green text flare on the blade. The Aurelian short sword was his preferred weapon. Spinning, Galen pushed his weight against the gladiator.

  “Stand down.”

  Gaze glittering, the gladiator attacked. Galen cut him down.

  Around him, the House of Galen gladiators waded into the fight.

  He spotted several workers huddled against the walls. “Get to safety! Lock yourselves in the kitchens.”

  He spun and saw Sam take down another gladiator. Beyond her, Raiden, Thorin, Kace, and the others were subduing the Zeringei fighters.

  It wasn’t long until silence fell over the foyer of the House of Zeringei. The out-of-control gladiators were either dead or tied up and on their knees.

  “What the drak happened here?” Raiden muttered.

  “Kace,” Galen called o
ut. “Find the Zeringei healers.” There were several injured people who needed help.

  The gladiator jogged back after a moment. “Dead or injured.”

  Galen cursed under his breath. “Get back to the House of Galen and send our medical team.”

  Sam moved up beside Galen. “What a mess.”

  Galen scanned the bodies on the ground. For a second, he was back on Aurelia, staring at the dead bodies littering the palace.

  “Galen.”

  A slim hand touched his arm, pulling him out of the memories.

  “We’ll help them rebuild.” Beneath the downed body of a fighter, he spotted the large form of the imperator.

  He hurried over and dropped to his knee. He pushed the body off the man. “Tano.”

  “G-Galen,” the man croaked. His silver fur was matted with blood.

  Galen helped the man up, leaning him against the wall. A huge gash bisected his chest and he was bleeding badly. “We need to get him to Medical.”

  “Galen.” Tano grabbed Galen’s arm with two of his hands, his grip weak. “My gladiators…something was wrong. They…went crazy. They’re loyal. They wouldn’t do this.”

  Galen nodded. “I’ll take care of it, Tano. You need to focus on getting better. Your House needs you.”

  The imperator slumped back and Galen nodded at Nero. The big gladiator lifted Tano and Lore fell into step beside them. They hurried out the door.

  Around Galen, the rest of his gladiators were helping the injured and moving the dead into a side room. Finally, Winter and the House of Galen healers arrived, and quickly set to work.

  Galen grimly walked the length of the corridor, studying the dead bodies. Innocent workers, new recruits, and several hardened gladiators who’d fought to protect the others. All dead.

  He spotted one gladiator who he recognized from the arena. His long, black hair was a tangled, sweaty mess around his rugged face. A talented fighter who’d been one of Zeringei’s best.

  Galen crouched, closing the man’s sightless eyes.

  Galen felt a warmth right behind him and felt Sam’s legs brush against his back. She crouched beside him.

  “Such a waste.” Her sad gaze was on the man’s face.

  “You’ve seen a lot of death.”

  A spasm crossed her face. “Yes. People who should never have been at Zaabha.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “People I had to kill.”