The Alien's Revenge: A SciFi Alien Warrior Romance (Drixonian Warriors Book 4)

by Ella Maven

  “Liberties?”

  Naomi stepped forward. “We knew you’d come back, because… well you had to. And even if you didn’t, we would have always kept you alive through your plants.” She ducked her head. “Sorry that’s morbid.”

  I blinked at her. “Wait, what?”

  “Did you really think we would have let your plants die, dumbass?” Justine said with her customary eye-roll. “I could see the dread on your face the entire walk over here. What kind of friends would we be? These flowers were like your children.” With a wave of her hand, they all stepped aside to reveal your front door. “Reunite with your babies. Make your mate jealous.”

  I sucked in a breath at the decoration on the door. Gone was my flower wreath—of course it was, those picked blooms would have died long ago. In its place was a wooden cup, hung on a hook with a thick vine, the container overflowing with a gorgeous arrangement of blooms and greenery. The annoyance I felt toward them in the dining hall went up in smoke. They hadn’t left me. They’d been preparing a surprise. “It’s… beautiful,” I whispered, almost too overwhelmed for words.

  “That was all Justine,” Frankie said. “Her anal graphic design mind took over and she insisted on making it.”

  My gaze swept to Justine, who suddenly seemed to find her fingernails super interesting. “I just figured I was the most qualified.”

  “This took you hours,” Frankie said. “And you insisted on sending Gar out special for some different leaf things because you couldn’t find, and I quote, ‘the right concave shape to fit the aesthetic.’”

  “Whatever,” Justine muttered.

  I strode toward her and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her close. She went stiff at first, like she always did, but soon relaxed into my embrace. Her hand smoothed down my spine. “Glad you’re back, Miranda,” she whispered.

  When I pulled back, she ducked her head to hide her eyes from me.

  “The inside,” Frankie said, “was all Naomi. We helped but she was a drill sergeant.”

  A blush rose up Naomi’s neck to flush her cheeks. She opened up the door and gestured inside. “I hope you like it. We tried our best, but no one can tend plants like you.”

  I kept my expectations low as I stepped inside, Drak on my heels, but I shouldn’t have. The smell hit me first, the dirt and bloom fragrance that never failed to calm me. When my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, I gasped. Naomi hadn’t just tended to my plants to keep them alive, she’d cared for them. Loved them. Let them blossom and grow and spread their mighty leaves. The room was a jungle oasis. A vine climbed up the far wall, clinging to a new lattice board made of wooden planks. My flowers were arranged around the room according to how they grew best—shade, half shade, or full sun. Everywhere I walked, it seemed a leaf or flower was there, reaching out to touch me.

  I went from plant to plant, sniffing and caressing, checking soil dampness and stalk strength.

  “Naomi,” I whirled around to find my friend still standing in the doorway, the others craning their necks over her to get a look at my reaction. “Girls, I don’t know what to say. This is absolutely the best thing I could have come home to.”

  “We love you,” Naomi said. “We’d never let you tackle this on your own when you returned.”

  I had expected to, and what did that say about me? Was it that I didn’t trust them or that I didn’t want to get my hopes up and be let down? I hugged Naomi, and each of my friends in turn.

  “We’ll leave you two alone,” Frankie said. “Enjoy the peace and quiet. We don’t expect to see you until tomorrow.” She winked at me and herded the women away from my place. With one last smile, Naomi closed the door.

  I got distracted by one of my favorite plants near the door—it flowered only once a month in a blue-black bloom that seemed to glow. I sniffed it, tested the soil, and then used a nearby vessel to give it a little water.

  When I turned, I expected to find Drak inspecting the room, but he hadn’t moved from the center. He stood watching me, his form backlit by the large window behind him, his blue skin blending into the plants behind him while his dark hair, with its distinctive patches, rested on his shoulders.

  His eyes swirled a light purple, and his aura … well I’d have to get used to it. The wall of smoke was gone, and in its place was a light so strong I felt warmed from the inside out. This was Drak in his final form.

  I stepped toward him. “Do you like my room?”

  He nodded, never taking his eyes off me. As I drew closer, he glanced to the side, where a plant rested on a pedestal about hip-height. I referred to it as my purple-people-eater because the blooms were massive and plentiful.

  He reached out and pinched a stem between his thumb and forefinger. He caught my eye. “Pick?” He rasped.

  “You can pick it,” I answered.

  With a nod, he plucked it. About six inches of the stem remained below the flower. He stepped forward and tucked it behind my ear, drawing my braids over the opposite shoulder. “My bloom,” he said. “New life.” He swallowed, and I knew this was hurting him, but I ached to hear what he wanted to say. He inhaled. “Second chance.”

  And then he smiled.

  I’d never seen anything like Drak’s smile. It changed the shape of his face. His cheeks rose, and his eyes crinkled in the corners. His eyes swam like purple waters as he ran the backs of his fingers down my cheeks.

  “What does my aura look like to you?” I asked.

  He cocked his head, a question in his eyes.

  “How you…feel me? My emotions. How does it look in your mind?”

  He smiled again and tapped my temple. “Blooms,” he whispered.

  I placed my hand over his heart. “And you are a light. A sun. I guess that explains why I’m drawn to you, huh?”

  His smiled dimmed, and he patted himself on the chest. “Not bright,” he said. “Not sun.”

  I pulled his hand away and twined our fingers. “You are to me. And it might take time, but soon you’ll be a light to yourself, too.”

  Drak

  Merr-anda lay in my arms with her naked body curled into mine. Her fingers rested on my chest, occasionally swirling patterns on my scales. They shimmered under her touch, the colors reacting to my state of arousal. I’d just released inside her body, and I could have entered her again only a moment later. But I relished this closeness, the way we held each other. I hadn’t had this for an entire lifetime.

  “My mother … was a bit like you,” I said.

  She went still and then propped her head on her palm, an elbow resting in the furs. She lifted a dark arched eyebrow. “Normally, on Earth, that would not be a thing to say to your woman after you have sex, but I think this is a unique circumstance.” She smiled and pressed a light kiss to my cheek. “Tell me about her.”

  “Justice,” I said. “She fought for … justice.”

  Miranda’s fingers curled on my chest. “How so?”

  “She heard … disputes. Made decisions on punishments.”

  Miranda’s mouth gaped. “Like a judge? She made judgements?”

  I nodded. “That.”

  Our society had been run by our females. While the males joined the military at an early age and learned to defend our way of life on the ground and in space, the women were what made us work. They farmed our crops and formed our branches of rule. We were a peaceful society, which we defended with anything but peace. Our male warriors were lethal and effective. An airborne enemy we couldn’t fight with fists and machets had been our downfall.

  Miranda’s eyes grew wet, but she blinked rapidly before biting her full bottom lip. “I think I would have liked your mother. Justice means a lot to me. I was a criminal defense back on Earth, which meant I defended people accused of crimes.”

  I studied her. “Were they guilty?”

  “Some of them, sure. Not all of them. In my country on Earth, every citizen has a right to a defense. A judge, like your mother, or a council of sorts would make the decision. Wh
en I was a kid, my uncle was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. His attorney was able to prove he wasn’t where his accuser said he was at the time of the crime. That was one of the reasons I wanted to become a lawyer. To fight for those wrongly accused. I believe in justice.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I would have fought for you. You were accused of something you didn’t do, and what happened to you wasn’t fair. I know life isn’t fair. I know wrong men go to jail but…” she sniffed. “But that’s why I do what I do. Or did. I’m sorry those years were taken from you, Drak. I wish I could get them back for you.”

  How did I express to her that in a way, life was simpler when I couldn’t flecking remember?

  “Memory lost … on purpose,” I huffed out an irritated breath. “My mind … changed … to handle … what happened.”

  She seemed to process my words before speaking. “You threw up a mental block, so you didn’t have to face the fact you lost your home and everything you knew?”

  I nodded.

  “I understand that. Before, your aura was a wall of gray smoke. I couldn’t see your light behind it. Just nothing.”

  “Now angry … Sad … but also … happy. Angry at Crius. Sad about my life. Happy I met you … and the truth.”

  “Do you remember what kind of warrior you were before you were cast out?”

  “Proud,” I answered quickly. “Loyal. Strong.”

  “You’re still all those things,” she said.

  I rolled onto my side to face her. “Not ready to forgive.”

  Her hand cradled my cheek. “You don’t have to forgive. Not now. Maybe not ever. What happened to you was not fair. All you can do now is choose the kind of warrior you’ll be moving forward.”

  “What … if I don’t … want … stay?”

  Miranda broke my gaze, her eyes dropping to the fur between us. “Then … we don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and sadness lurked in the her bloom in my mind.

  I placed my fingers under her chin and lifted. Her brown eyes swam with wet. “You want…stay?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Truth,” I rasped.

  “I do,” she whispered.

  “You’d leave?”

  “You’re my mate.” She held up her wrists. “We’re cora-eternals. Fatas chose that for us.”

  “Flecking Fatas,” I spat. “Nothing for … me.”

  She went still. “So, you don’t believe I’m your mate? You don’t think these loks mean anything?”

  “I do… But not … thanks … Fatas.” I inhaled sharply, my throat working through the fireball sitting there. “My mate … because … my bloom. You stay … I will. To make you … happy.”

  She released a long sigh. “I don’t want that. You were forced to live a life you didn’t choose for ten cycles. How can I force you to make that choice again?”

  I clenched my jaw. “For you.”

  “And then resent me? You’d be miserable, and you can’t hide it, because you’re in my head!” She ended on a shout, jabbing her finger into her temple viciously.

  I didn’t like her hurting herself. Her bloom trembled in agitation. I grasped her hand and began to vibrate in my chest—that usually calmed her.

  Not this time. She yanked her hand back on a growl. “Don’t. Don’t do that purring thing for me to try to get me to calm down. It’s underhanded and sneaky. If I want to be frustrated, then let me be.”

  “Don’t like—”

  “I don’t care if you don’t like it. Don’t you see? We’re already fighting over this. I don’t know how this is going to work.” She sat up and hugged her knees, dropping her forehead on top of them. Her braids cascaded around her in a curtain.

  “Merr-anda,” I whispered. “My bloom.”

  She picked her head up. “And you’re my sun.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, this is happening fast. We will give it time. Daz said we could. I’ll think about how I’d feel leaving, and you can think about how you feel staying. But we have to agree. We aren’t sacrificing our happiness for each other. Neither of us deserve that.”

  I nodded. I’d try. For her. But in the back of my mind, I knew I’d never again live alone with her, not with the threat of the Kulks and the Uldani. I’d have to leave her here if I couldn’t stay. And that would break both of us.

  Still my nod seemed to appease her. She lay back down and cuddled against me. “Tell me…life. On Earth.”

  “You want to hear about my life?”

  “Yes.”

  She told me all about her big family. Her parents who had important jobs as healers which meant they weren’t around a lot. As the oldest, she often cared for her younger siblings.

  “Did you have any siblings?”

  I shook my head. I’d been the first born, and my mother got sick shortly after with the virus.

  “I miss them,” she said. “I used to wish for an afternoon of peace without one of them calling me, and now I would kill to hear from them one more time.”

  “You … that way … with … women.”

  “What way?”

  “Care … them. They see you … older sister.”

  “I do see them as my little sisters. I’m the oldest, and some of them, like Naomi, are just so innocent. I want to protect them.”

  “But then who … protects you?”

  “I don’t need protecting.”

  I gave her a look. She rolled her eyes. “Okay, so sometimes I do, and I guess that’s your job now.”

  I puffed out my chest. “Warrior.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, big guy. Well I protect you too.”

  “My female warrior,” I murmured into her hair. “Don’t need … clavas. Only … you.”

  I had meant it as a compliment, but when she lifted her eyes to mine, they were sad again. “You’ll always have me. No matter what.”

  She wanted me to accept the clavas again, but she didn’t want to force me to do it. I appreciated the way she respected how I was handling this return to my home, but it pained me to see her so conflicted.

  “Maybe … it’ll feel different. Crius … closure.”

  She smiled. “That’s true. We’ll see what judgement Daz hands down tomorrow.”

  “I wonder…” I said. “Would you have like … before Drak?”

  She cocked her head. “Would I have liked you before? Why not?”

  “Colder,” I said. “Less…” I paused to think of the word I wanted. “Less care.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said. “I know some people say everything happens for a reason, and that’s often true. If the Kulks hadn’t taken me, we might never have met. But I don’t believe you had to suffer in your own mind for fifteen years in order to be a better warrior. A better male. A better mate.” Her lips found mine in the darkening room. “I don’t know if I believe in your Fatas either, but she pairs couples who complement each other. That’s us, Drak. You and me. I’m your bloom, remember? I always would have been drawn to your light.”

  Her words put out the raging fire in my throat, spreading a cool balm to all my limbs until I felt like I could melt right into the furs.

  “My eternal bloom.” I whispered before taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.

  And then I took my bloom until she cried my name loud enough for the whole clavas to hear.

  Thirteen

  Drak

  As I stood in the courtyard of the compound surrounded by the entire clavas, I would have given anything to turn back time to that morning. I’d woke up to find my mate already out of the furs. She wore a simple pair of shorts and a loose-fitting shirt that hung off one shoulder to reveal a creamy dark shoulder.

  She had been sengeng to herself as she tended to her plants, watering them with an old qua jug and picking off any dead leaves or blooms. I watched her, making no move to let her know I was awake.

  This was peace. Watching her encourage life to grow. My gaze dropped to her stomach. I’d seen the swollen belly of Daz’s mat
e. Would my bloom grow our life inside her? I imagined her heavy with my chit, and my cock thickened down my leg.

  I’d interrupted her plant tending then by pulling her into the furs. She landed with a laughing shriek, which quickly turned to moans as I’d buried my face between her legs and licked her until she cried out.

  I relished my memories now. They flashed in my clear mind vividly. Merr-anda elbowed me and shot me an exasperated look. Oh, right. She probably knew what I was thinking, which was plunging my cock back into her wet cunt. Instead I stood in the hot sun waiting for Crius to be handed his judgement.

  He was brought forward in chains, shuffling his feet because of the restraints around his ankles. I’d spent so long with his face one of the few memories in my mind, wishing I could see it twist in agony and defeat. He had long since healed from the beating I’d given him. Daz had required him to receive medis so he’d be well enough to deny or confirm his crimes.

  But I felt no joy watching him be led to where Daz stood near the gates. The drexel had no throne or adornment to show his leadership other than his Night King tag rimmed in gold and another curiously matching woven armband. Yet, no one would deny that he was every inch the drexel. His mate, Frankie, stood nearby in a flowing dress and barefoot. She had a palm on her swollen belly as her hair fluttered in the breeze.

  Ward and Gar stopped in front of Daz with Crius between them. He bowed his head before he lifted his eyes to meet his drexel’s.

  “Your first offense is you are accused of lying about a betrayal which caused a warrior to be exiled for fifteen cycles.” Daz’s deep booming voice carried to every part of the clavas. “Do you deny it?”

  Crius didn’t move until finally his head swung to me. I remained where I was, because with each passing moment, I wanted nothing more than to flee from the crowd and the stares, and this scene. I knew it was necessary—I’d been cast out just like this—but I felt disconnected, like an outsider looking in on a sacred ritual.

  Crius swallowed and shook his head.

  “Speak,” Daz barked.

  “No,” Crius called out.