Claimed

by Presley Hall

  I’ve no sooner settled in than M’Xelni secures thin nylon straps around my wrists and ankles, so quickly that I hardly realize what he’s doing before it’s already done. My first reaction is to yank at them, but they’re stronger than they look and definitely not going anywhere. Struggling is just going to piss him off, I know that—and I’m not getting out of this, not now.

  At this point, I just have to hope that my trust in Tordax is well-placed.

  The prick of a needle stings the back of my neck, and my skin begins to go numb. I can’t feel anything back there anymore, not the circulated air or the touch of M’Xelni’s fingers as he probes the back of my neck. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I’m aware of pressure at the base of my skull, although there’s no pain. I grip the arms of the chair hard, more out of fear than any real discomfort, but he puts my hair back into place and moves over to Tordax before I even realize that he’s done.

  I can’t see what he’s doing to Tordax—the angle is all wrong—but it’s something behind his head, just as he did to me.

  And then the nylon straps are being undone, and I’m free to get up. I touch the back of my neck gingerly as I stand and look over at Tordax.

  “What did he do?” I ask, knowing he won’t understand me, but desperately needing an answer. I don’t know if I really want it, but anxiety is flooding through me now, making me feel shaky and cold.

  “A multi-language implant was placed in your brain,” Tordax says calmly. “And in mine as well. Now we can speak with each other, Roz.”

  “Rose.” I correct his pronunciation without thinking and then freeze in place, staring at him with wide eyes. “Oh my god, I can understand you!”

  “As I can understand you.” His smile is breathtaking. While I’m still reeling from the effects of it, and of this strange new turn of events, he stands up and walks toward me, stopping a few inches away. “I told M’Xelni to be careful with you, and to make sure there was as little pain as possible. Did it hurt?”

  “No,” I murmur shakily. “Not really. I… this is crazy.” Tordax is speaking as easily as if he’s known my language his whole life, and I realize with a start that I must be speaking his language. Is that what a multi-language implant does? Uploads an entire language into your brain?

  I blink up at him as the insanity of all this sinks in. “We can talk to each other now. Just like that?”

  A jolt of excitement rushes through me as I say the words. I don’t know why the idea of communicating with him makes me so happy. It shouldn’t—I shouldn’t care if I can talk to this man or not. He’s just a brute, a warrior alien who is keeping me captive in space. But I feel a thrill go through me at the idea of having an actual conversation with him.

  And what’s even crazier is that I can see those feelings reflected in his face. This warrior, this commanding male, is excited at the possibility of talking to me, like he’s some human teenager with his first girlfriend. It makes absolutely no fucking sense. But the expression in his eyes is clear.

  “Yes, my Irisa,” he says softly. “We can speak to each other clearly now.”

  I freeze, my brows pulling together.

  “Irisa,” I repeat slowly. “What does that mean? I heard you say it the other day, and then just now… in the cafeteria. What did you tell the other Kalixians? It was about me, wasn’t it? What could you possibly…”

  “Rose,” he says gently, shaping the correct pronunciation this time. He steps closer to me, his addicting scent infusing my nostrils. “Among my people, we have a custom. We do not choose mates until we feel a special bond, a connection between us and another that has been chosen for us by fate. I have felt that bond with you. I felt it the moment I set eyes on you in the arena, at the side of that disgusting Orkun, and I have felt it more strongly in every moment since. Our term for this mate, this one who will be bonded to us for life, is our Irisa. We say that our soul has recognized theirs. And that is true for me, Rose. My soul has recognized yours.”

  I hear M’Xelni gasp behind me, but I feel suddenly dizzy, as if I might topple over.

  What?

  This is insane.

  His mate? Some kind of crazy spiritual bond?

  He spoke that phrase as if it was our wedding vows, a reverence in his tone that frightens me, and I back up, shaking my head.

  No, no, no. I think the word over and over, moving out of range of Tordax’s touch as he looks at me with an expression that sends fear through me all over again. It’s not the same fear I’ve felt since waking up on this alien ship; not worry for my physical safety. This is a whole new kind of panic.

  But on the heels of that panic comes anger. And suddenly I’m very, very glad that this alien commander is able to understand me.

  Because he’s about to hear exactly what I think of this bullshit.

  15

  Tordax

  I don’t know what I expected, when I told Rose the truth. Not gratitude, or immediate acceptance, certainly. I’m no fool.

  My Rose is headstrong, and I know that. She wouldn’t just accept this at face value without thinking about it. But after what we’ve shared together, the pleasure we’ve given and received, the care I have taken to protect and shelter her, I thought I had softened her enough to be open to the idea.

  Rarely in my life have I been so wrong.

  When I finish speaking, a series of expressions cross her face, so fast that it’s almost impossible to decipher one from another. I see shock, astonishment, dawning realization… and then two emotions I had hoped never to see—horror and fear.

  I reach out to her, wanting to comfort her, to reassure her. I hear M’Xelni’s gasp at my declaration that she is my Irisa, but I ignore it. I’ll discuss the implications of this with him some other time. For now, I need to keep my mate from running away, from being afraid of me—from hating me. Because I can see the fear in her turning to anger, and I brace myself for the impact.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she hisses, glaring at me with a ferocity I hadn’t expected. “So that’s why you’ve been doing all of this? The kindness, the gentleness, the…” she turns bright red, and I know what she’s thinking of. The memory inflames me too. But I don’t think it’s lust that’s making her turn that vibrant shade at the moment. “You thought we were mates? Some kind of crazy hippie spiritual connection that means we’re meant to be together?” She backs away from me, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Nuh, uh. No, sir. We’re not any such thing. I never signed up for this. First a wart-covered crocodile of an alien warlord decides to claim me as his bride against my will, and no sooner am I liberated from that than a bronzed barbarian goat-man decides I’m his mate, granted by the universe?”

  I don’t understand a good deal of what she’s saying—at least not some of the terms. Hippie? Crocodile? Goat-man? I don’t know what either of these things are. But I do understand her tone, and the rage flowing through it.

  “Rose,” I say, hoping to get a word in edgewise, but she’s having none of it. Now that I can finally understand her, every bit of frustration she must have been holding in over the last few days is flowing out of her in a rush, threatening to crash over us both and sweep us away.

  “So what? What now? You get to fuck me? You’re going to take me back to your planet and keep me barefoot and pregnant while I cook for you? I don’t think so, Tordax. You might be a respected hotshot among your own people, but to me you’re just an alien who’s keeping me here against my will. I want to go home. To my own planet, my own people. I’m not your Irisa. I’m not your anything. I’m just Rose, and I’m not giving you a goddamned thing.”

  And with that, her chin held high, she turns on her heel and marches out of the room without another word.

  Thanks to the multi-language implant that allows her to speak our language fluently, M’Xelni, Malav, Druxik, and Vrexen heard and understood every word of that. There’s a strange smirk on Vrexen’s face, and I let out a long, irritated sigh.r />
  The annoyance is mixed with desire though. Throughout Rose’s entire tirade, I could feel the heat in my blood rising to match hers, and if we’d been alone, I might have tried to stem the tide of it with other means of convincing her. My pulse is beating hard in my throat, and I can feel the uncomfortable beginnings of arousal swelling my cock.

  My mate is feisty. I enjoy that. I would have been disappointed if she were timid or easily made compliant. I like a challenge, and I need a strong woman by my side. It only makes sense that my Irisa would be both strong and challenging.

  Without a word, I stride out of the room after her, intent on tracking her down. I see the half smile on Malav’s face as I go, but I don’t have time to be embarrassed by it. Let the men think what they want.

  With any luck, they’ll find their own Irisas in time. And then they’ll understand this… this driving need. There’s no other word for it that I can think of.

  I search every inch of the ship. All I can think of is Rose on her own, lost, the possibility of her getting hurt. No one on this ship will harm her, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t things that are dangerous. A wrong button pushed, an airlock opened, one of the exotic creatures accidentally let loose? All could end in disaster.

  My heart hammers in my throat. I have to find her, I think as I pick up my pace, going through every room and corridor.

  I finally locate her on the observation deck of the ship. She’s staring out at the blackness, her face turned away from me, and I suddenly want desperately to see it.

  The sight of her standing there sends a rush of desire through me, my blood running hot all over again—just as it did earlier with Sorsir. But this time it’s lust, not rage.

  Just being near her makes me want her so badly that I can barely stand it. I have no idea if this will change once I’ve had her—if I have her, I mentally amend, and the thought that I might not brings a pain that nearly sends me to my knees. The thought of spending a lifetime never knowing what it’s like to bury myself in her, to possess her entirely…

  And then she turns slightly as I approach her, and I see the tears sliding down her cheeks again, like when I found her sitting on the bed in my quarters. I take another hesitant step toward her and then another, drawn to her in a way that I never knew was possible. She looks up at me and the sight of her face, miserable and exhausted, her eyes red and weeping, twists my heart until I can almost feel the cracks forming in it.

  Krax. I want to protect her, to keep her safe, and somehow I’m doing the exact opposite of that.

  I take a deep, shuddering breath. I want to reach out and sweep her into my arms, to draw her close to me and promise that nothing will ever hurt her.

  But I can’t do that, because it’s me that’s the cause of her anguish right now. It takes all the self-control I have to keep my arms at my sides, to not close that last bit of distance between us, but I do it. I wait.

  “I want to go home,” she whispers, her green eyes shimmering with tears as her gaze meets mine. “I don’t want any of this, Tordax.”

  The sound of my name on her lips sends a shudder through me, but I remain still, frozen in place. I let her speak, wishing I could savor the ability to understand her for the first time.

  Instead, every word is a dagger in my heart.

  “I don’t believe in fate, or destined mates, or any of the stuff you’ve told me,” she continues, her voice growing firmer with each word, although sadness echoes in it too.

  Despondence washes over me. I can see the bright future that I hoped for fading with each second. But I can’t force her.

  And even if I could… I won’t.

  “I wish I could believe in all of that, Tordax. But I just can’t. None of this makes sense, and I just want to go home. I want what’s familiar. None of it was great—but it’s still my home. My place. Where I belong.”

  My jaw clenches as I look down at her. The emotions churning inside me are stronger and more convoluted than anything I’ve ever felt.

  I’ve lived my life as a warrior, with strict principles and few quandaries. Lead my men, protect my people as best as I’m able, and have our revenge. I have never faced anything like this. I know she can see the tortured expression in my eyes as I look down at her, my body vibrating with effort as I resist the urge to reach out and touch her.

  “You could belong here,” I murmur, my voice husky with repressed need. “I’m not wrong, Rose. I know that I’m not. We are destined to be together. We are mates. You can try to fight it, you can try to deny it, but in the end, it won’t be possible.”

  I feel it rise up in me, the truth of what I’m saying. There is no other explanation for what there is between us, no other reason why I would feel this way. I can see it in her face too, the emotions that cross her delicate features as she looks up at me. I can feel every cell in her body straining toward mine in the small space that separates us.

  One step, one breath, and we would be pressed up against each other.

  One movement, and she could be mine.

  “You will be mine,” I whisper, the thought turning into words and sliding from my lips. “I’ll prove it to you, Rose—that this is true. That it is real. That you are my soul’s match. You, and no one else. I promise this.”

  The air between us is so thick that it’s hard to breathe, the tension humming like electricity. Desh, I could kiss her so easily. All I would need to do is bend my head and capture her mouth with mine.

  But I can’t.

  Not until she admits that she wants me. Not until she accepts the truth of what we are to each other.

  The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is tear myself away from her. My body is throbbing with need, every inch of me screaming to crush her to me and take what I’ve been gifted.

  Instead, I spin on my heel, teeth clenched against the frustrated, pained growl that rises up in my throat as I turn away from her, leaving her on the observation deck.

  16

  Rose

  Holy fuck.

  I’ve never felt anything like this before.

  I never even knew it was possible.

  The moment when he looked down at me and I could see the anguish in his eyes—could see all the ways that this was tearing him apart—I wanted him to kiss me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in the world. More, in that moment, than I wanted to go home. And I desperately want that.

  I wanted him to do it. To take the choice out of my hands. But he wouldn’t. No matter how much it seemed to cost him, he left the choice up to me.

  Then he tore himself away. And now I’m standing here, more confused than I’ve ever been.

  My whole body feels as if it’s vibrating, practically humming with desire. I’ve never felt a bone-deep need like this for anyone. I didn’t think anything like this even existed.

  As I watch the brutally handsome warrior walk away, his shoulders tense and rigid, every muscle in his body on full display, I want to go after him.

  Truly, I’ve never seen anything or anyone like him. I called him a goat-man when I was upset, but the truth is, he’s more like a god. He’s like some kind of alien deity, handsome and muscular and bronzed, like a statue come to life. And he wants me.

  I want to run after him, wrap myself around that hard, muscular frame, and kiss him the way I wanted him to kiss me just now.

  But I can’t make my feet move.

  It’s insane—this is all insane. I can’t be the fated mate of some alien warrior. My whole life can’t have been leading up to this. It makes no sense.

  Your life wasn’t leading up to anything, before, a little voice in the back of my mind whispers. But I push the thought away, the same way I try to repress the feelings surging up inside of me, the lust and need and some other emotion that I’m frightened to give a name to.

  Because I care about Tordax, for some insane reason.

  I care that he’s upset, that as angry and confused as I am, that he also seems to be broken by this. I don�
�t fully understand it, but the look in his eyes…

  It was as if I were taking something away from him that he desperately wanted—that he needed. But how can I be that? We’ve known each other for all of three days. It’s impossible. Fate, destiny… these things don’t exist.

  I hear footsteps and whirl around, my heart leaping in my chest, thinking Tordax might have come back. But no, it’s another of the warriors—the one who helped calm Tordax when he was fighting the gladiator called Sorsir.

  “Rose,” the man says quietly.

  I freeze for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. Is he coming to try to claim me as his mate, too? Are there multiple claimants, like some kind of Hunger Games for brides? But he appeared to be Tordax’s friend, so surely not. They’re not going to fight some kind of battle to the death for me. Right?

  “I’m Malav,” he introduces himself, keeping a safe distance. “I’m Tordax’s second-in-command.”

  “I… nice to meet you.” I respond hesitantly, unsure if it’s the right thing to say. But what do you say to another strange member of an alien race you only just learned existed? And that you’ve only been able to communicate with for the past twenty minutes?

  “Please understand…” He sighs heavily, his expression uncomfortable. “Tordax wouldn’t be happy with me speaking to you right now. Things are not… settled between the two of you, and the urge to claim one’s mate is strong in our kind. You saw what happened with Sorsir.”

  I nod, my mind spinning too fast to respond. So he believes in this “fated mate” concept too. He’s supporting Tordax in this.

  “But I think there are things about Tordax that you should know, before you make a decision. And Tordax might not tell you them himself, not now, when he’s so…” Malav looks as if he’s trying to think of a polite word for it, but can’t. He takes a deep breath and looks at me, fixing his gaze on mine. His eyes are a deep, calm blue, like the depths of an ocean.