Warrior's Bond: BBW Science Fiction Alien Romance (Yadeshi Brides Book 1)

by Emma Alisyn

  She folded her arms, smiling. Or he could misconstrue it as a smile, if he wanted. “Yes. You need grunt workers and wombs. Is that why you’re also training my daughters? To soften them up as potential brides?”

  The pleasant solemnity of his presence shifted into something… dark. A cloud overhead blocked the sun for a moment, shadowing his face. And then the sensation was gone and he spoke again, words soft.

  “We teach the females to defend themselves. We’re told human women are especially vulnerable to assault.”

  Zoriah said nothing, looking away. “What do you want?”

  “I promised the children a lemonade. May we sit and speak?”

  She shook her head. “You may not understand this, but I want my son- my daughters- to focus on academics and choosing a stable career with a positive income projection. Not daydream about starships and lightswords and exotic aliens.”

  Zoriah snapped her mouth shut. Had she just said exotic aliens? She managed to suppress her automatic cringe, but had a feeling she failed when a tiny smile curled the alien’s mouth.

  “Exotic?” he repeated.

  “To humans. I mean, you’re very handsome- I’m sure your people consider you to be very handsome. But we’re human and-”

  The curve of his mouth deepened. “I understand. Thank you for the compliment.”

  Zoriah sighed. “Look, I just got off work and I’m tired, so-”

  “Ma.”

  She looked towards the front door, her son standing in the door, expression solemn. And… hopeful. A look she hated seeing in his wide eyes because she was always afraid she would fail his hope.

  “What, Khalid?”

  “Can we go? They have these new frozen lemonades made with fruit from Yadesh.”

  She opened her mouth to refuse and the warrior moved. Zoriah watched, jaw loose, as he knelt, head lowered. His broad shoulders covered in the curtain of glossy dark hair that- now that she could stare without him watching- seemed to have dancing flecks of green and purple under the sunlight.

  Then he looked up- not far up considering his height- and met her eyes. Knowledge in them that he was aware of how his strange beauty affected her.

  “Please?” he asked. “It would give me pleasure if you joined this unworthy Adekhan for a lemonade.”

  “Can we go, Ma?” Ashe called out from Reign’s bedroom window. “Pretty please?”

  Zoriah glanced over her shoulder. The girl hung halfway out of the window, long braids swinging as Reign grasped her shirt at the back and yanked her back in with a blistering admonishment.

  Ah, hell, she would look like a mean bitch if she said no in the face of the warrior’s quiet request and her son’s almost open pleading. Not that she cared looking like a bitch- but treats were so few and far between for the children.

  “Fine.” She glanced at the warrior. “Oh, get up. You’re paying.”

  He rose. “Of course.”

  ***

  The girls skipped ahead. Well, Ashe skipped. Reign chose to walk with a semblance of dignity. Khalid marched, shoulders straight, occasionally blocking Ashe when she hopped too close to the street. The warrior didn’t speak much, walking slightly behind Zoriah’s right shoulder, scanning the area with the automatic watchfulness of someone used to living in a war zone.

  They entered the cafe, Zoriah sighing with pleasure from the blast of air conditioning. She’d put in a maintenance request, and someone had come out- but it still wasn’t fixed. It belched a halfhearted stream of lukewarm air that served little purpose other than to raise her electric bill.

  “What would you like?” the warrior asked her.

  Maybe she should acknowledge his name. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard it. Zoriah scanned the array of drinks and treats on the menu. This wasn’t a date, but when was the last time a man had treated her to anything? She’d always paid, even when she was married.

  What the hell. “You choose. I’ll find a table.”

  It felt nice the leave the small decision up to someone else and settle into a seat. She watched the children chatter on either side of the warrior. He listened patiently, then handed Reign a card to complete the transaction.

  “I want to do it,” she heard Ashe whine.

  “Next time,” Benyon said, firm. “Reign is the eldest daughter.”

  Zoriah’s brow rose. Next time? Who said there would be a freakin’ next time? Whatever he wanted to talk about, it had better be good. Her fingers tapped the table as the children approached, a tray of drinks in their hands. Khalid sat something green with a frothy yellow top in front of her, again giving her a half pleased, half hopeful look.

  “Try it, Ma. I know you like strange stuff. It’s a mao fruit and green tea smoothie with coconut shavings.”

  She sipped. The green tea was subtle, not too sweet, with a hint of something tasting of mango and kiwi and a hint of spice.

  “It’s nice. Plenty of calories.”

  He rolled his eyes, then headed towards a table near the windows where patrons could watch people walking by.

  “I got to pay with the alien card,” Reign said. “Told you I knew how to work the bots.”

  “I never said you didn’t know how.”

  Reign shrugged, and the girls followed Khalid, the blue man taking a chair on Zoriah’s opposite side.

  “The young warriors will press a teacher to learn faster than is better for them. It is a skill, knowing how much lead to give.”

  “You mean rope.”

  He said nothing, tilting his head- avian or reptile, she couldn’t quite pin down.

  Zoriah shook her head. “Thanks for the drinks, I appreciate it. What do you want to discuss with me?”

  “You do not little talk,” he said. “Is it the custom?”

  “Little talk? Do you mean small talk?”

  He nodded. “Yes. The language implants are faulted. The… Governor… awards the technological devices contract to a subpar company. I believe it is run by his nephew.”

  It sounded like human politics. But still didn’t answer her question. “Probably get better if you practice with the natives more. What did you want to talk about?”

  His drink sat untouched as he studied her. “I asked your son where his father was.”

  She shrugged. “He’s dead.”

  “He told me. You have no male? No provider?”

  “I’m the provider.”

  He nodded. “Your children are a credit to you. They train hard- Ashe’s attention… wanders, but her heart is good. Reign will be frightening, and Khalid-” he paused, thoughtful, looking over Zoriah’s shoulder. “He trains like he makes up for lost time.” Silver-storm eyes refocused on her. “I haven’t seen that kind of drive in a young human yet.”

  Zoriah folded her arms, pleased but guilty. She knew she pushed her son- and sometimes said things she shouldn’t. Pressed him to not repeat his father’s mistakes. Or hers.

  “He’s a good boy,” she said.

  “I have no children.”

  She hesitated, unsure of what to say to the thread of sorrow under his tone. “You don’t look too old for children.”

  “I’m older than many. If a warrior has no female, no children to fight for, then why raise your sword?”

  Could she argue with that? It spoke to his priorities, certainly. Zoriah warmed, just a little. The blue man- fine, Benyon- probably had more sense of familial responsibility in his pinkie than her late husband had had in his entire body.

  “The why is for the warrior to decide, I suppose.” She fiddled with her straw. “I don’t know why I would bother with… life… if I didn’t have my children.”

  “A mate?”

  She couldn’t look away from his gaze. It captured her, a deep pool of stern resolve- but for what, she couldn’t imagine. He assessed her children with a teacher’s pride, affection in his tone- and she’d thought of that right solely as hers. It couldn’t be bad for them to have another adult in their lives, could it? Even if he was
an alien.

  “I- I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Lie.” The word was stark, but gentle.

  “You want the truth? I have three children. I’m over twenty-five and I’ve been denied an Advanced Education voucher three times.” Anger stirred. “I ‘serve society best placed where I am.’ Someone has to perform unskilled labor. What man wants to hitch his sail to a widowed, low-tier mother of three?”

  Benyon didn’t respond right away. “I don’t understand human society- the class structure is stifling.” He glanced at the children. “What I see is three children who would make Adekhan level warriors if they were Yadeshi. I find I am reluctant to turn their training over to another.”

  “They aren’t Yadeshi.”

  “No. They aren’t.” His mouth pursed for a moment, long fingers wrapping around his plastic cup. He stared at the contents for a moment, as if just now seeing the thick pink slush with small black spheres at the bottom. Zoriah hid a smile- she’d bet her life Reign had chosen his drink for him.

  He looked up when she failed to stifle a snort, brow raised. “Did you know the Yadeshi gene is dominant?”

  “What?” What did genetics have to do with this conversation? And why was she even having this conversation in the first place?

  His expression was inscrutable. “It’s why we chose this planet as one to ally with. With fertility treatments, human women may carry Yadeshi children to term. And the children are Yadeshi.”

  “Great deal for you guys.” Even she heard the sullen resentment in her tone. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone else got what they wanted out of life. Was she feeling sorry for herself? Yeah, maybe. But for once she just wanted to be free of the endless daily cycle of work, suppressed dreams, work. She wanted to explore life- she wanted her children to have opportunities to explore life.

  She just didn’t know how to make that happen.

  “It is, yes.” His voice turned wry. “We’ve been over concerned with the perfection of war, and less with the perfection of reproducing.”

  “Can’t you all just find other Yadeshi and get together and start making babies?”

  “We are too few for this now. Land is plentiful on Yadesh these days.” He pushed the pink drink away. “Come to the training complex. Observe. And after, if you still believe what we teach is violence, then I will tell security to bar your children from return.”

  He was going to a lot of effort for an alien. For a male. “Why do you care?”

  Benyon smiled. “A mentor always cares. And… they’ve made my time here have value.”

  “You’re leaving soon?”

  “I’ll have leave shortly, and be allowed to return to my home.” The silver of his eyes deepened, his voice dropping into a low croon. “The land is green in my home, with seven kinds of fruit on trees just outside my mother’s fence. We raised… cows… for milk and in the evening the sun sets the lake on fire and you can see the mountains in the water.”

  Did he mean to tease her with a picture of a dream? Something she could never have in this tightly controlled, over populated city? Years and years ago there were trees, but not anymore. Just concrete and entire neighborhood sectors off limits to people like her.

  “Come observe the training.”

  His hand reached out and a long, four jointed finger tipped with iridescent nails touched the back of her hand. Her skin sparked where he touched her. She jerked, knocking over her drink so liquid spilled over the table. Zoriah swore, shaking her hands and rising to grab napkins from a nearby dispensary. She returned and mopped up the mess, not looking at him.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, balling up the napkins and then fiddling with the lid, trying to snap it back into place.

  This time his hand covered hers- her skin sparked again, but she controlled herself.

  “Woman, leave it. It doesn’t matter.”

  Silence between them for one long moment. She didn’t understand the strange tension, the… question in his voice. But she understood it made her nervous, and…

  “I don’t have time to observe. I’m assigned two jobs to provide.”

  He removed his hand, slowly. “And if you didn’t have the double assignment? Would you watch, assess with an open mind?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.” He rose. “I will see you in a few days.”

  Benyon said goodbye to the children, speaking to them quietly before nodding in her direction once again and leaving. Zoriah noticed eyes watching him as he left, and wasn’t surprised. A warrior would be the center of attention wherever he went.

  Gesturing to the children, she rose and left as well. They fell in at her side, chattering and they made it home, Zoriah wondering why she looked forward to seeing the warrior again.

  3

  CHAPTER THREE

  Something inside him… shifted. Benyon had traveled with the children to their home, expecting nothing. Khalid spoke little of his mother, other than to say she worked hard and was tired. Ashe said her mommy couldn’t play with her anymore and Reign- Reign was silent. He’d tried to determine who the mother might be based on the spirits of the children, but hadn’t been able to formulate a profile.

  The woman he'd met was both expected... and not.

  He hadn’t expected the poorly contained fire, the same restless energy driving Ashe coupled with Khalid’s quiet will and Reign’s fiery defiance. The woman thought her spirit hidden, curtailed. She'd tried to conceal her emotions, and failed miserably- the attempt charming. Wide dark eyes speared him, arrested on his face, caressing him when he’d knelt and he'd suppressed a shudder; aware her perusal was unintentional. She didn’t understand the power behind her eyes- give him a mere fifteen years with her in the training ring, and he'd make an Adekhan of her, human or no.

  "How was the venture into the human sectors?" Habdel asked.

  His sword-mate halted him in the halls of the complex, curiosity on his face. The Yadeshi ventured rarely into the residential neighborhoods, not wanting to provoke any incidents. Benyon glanced at Ladasha, silent at Habdel's side. One potential co-habitor eliminated, was she petitioning Habdel now as well? No matter.

  "It was informative," Benyon said.

  "They told me you accompanied three human children, but I lent that tale no credence."

  "I did."

  "Why?" Ladasha asked.

  "My aja'eko requested it of me." He explained the situation in brief. There was nothing particularly private about it, and it might be interesting to gain a female perspective in how to deal with the mother.

  "Huh," was all Ladasha said.

  "You always were an explorer," Habdel said.

  Not really. He was on earth because he'd been assigned there- when his stint was over, he would return home. Return to his mother’s house and gardens and bring them back to life. He was owed a period of leave after decades of service, and as there were no active wars...

  Benyon took his leave of the two, pondering the reluctance welling in him at the thought of leaving. The same reluctance he'd noticed before, and associated with the same three children. He would... miss them when he left.

  Astonishing.

  But the mother. He would have to see her again to fully understand what was now different inside him.

  ***

  “Hey, Zo.”

  She grabbed her apron off its designated hook. “Yeah? I’m not late.”

  “You’ve got the day off.” Her shift supervisor stood, clipboard in hand, face scrunched with a mix of impatience and boredom.

  She turned. “What the fu- I mean, look, if you’re trying to fire me-”

  “Nah, nah. You just got the day off. Kells is covering.”

  Counting to three before she spoke, “Thanks for thinking about me, but I need these hours.”

  “It’s paid leave.” He turned and left.

  Zoriah stared after him, debating the wisdom of making waves versus wanting to get to the bottom of sudden largesse. She wasn’t
a fool.

  Following him out of the employee room, “Hey, Ron. This is really weird. Why are you-”

  He glanced at her, sighing. “YETI pulled some strings, okay? Didn’t know you knew the warriors like that. Enjoy your day off.”

  Well- hell. He’d said he’d see her in a few days, and asked if she’d come if she didn’t have to work. Or that was the gist of the conversation she remembered.

  There was really only one thing to do that made sense.

  “What?” Khalid said, staring at her when she’d entered the house.

  Zoriah rolled her eyes. “I said let’s go. I have the day off, so we’re going to the complex.”

  “But-” his forehead creased. “You never change your mind.”

  She folded her arms, letting out a loud breath. “Your alien asked nicely enough. And he got me a paid day off. I can keep my word and go watch a session- even though we could get caught up on the laundry.” And she was tempted.

  Khalid jumped to his feet, grinning. “Yeah, man. Give me five minutes, I’ll get ready.”

  “You stink,” she yelled at him as he ran up the stairs. “Take a quick shower. And I’m not a man.”

  She gathered the girls up and they took the bus to YETI’s sector, Zoriah telling them not to expect her to do anything but watch. They entered the complex, what used to be a sports stadium attached to an old university, the adjacent park now a field for outdoor simulations.

  Zoriah looked around, observing how areas of the gymnasium were organized for small group sessions, equipment she couldn’t name and had never seen along in another section. Others practiced weaponless combat on blue mats. She winced, watching a tall, blue skinned alien slam a human woman onto a mat. The woman scissored to her feet well enough to prove she was unharmed, and continued the exercise.

  “You came,” a deep, smooth voice said.

  Zoriah jumped, turning around. Benyon stood a foot behind her, dressed in the same uniform as the other instructors- a half open sashed shirt sans sleeves and wide legged trousers.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to wear anything an enemy could grab hold of,” she said, gesturing to his pants. She’d watched television.