Izzie and the Icebeast: A Scifi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 9)

by Honey Phillips

  Hvach was a lobster-like alien with hard red skin, giant pincers on his upper arms, and smaller claws on the two sets of arms that emerged from his midsection. She wanted to dismiss him as some type of giant animal, but there was intelligence in the way his eyes, supported by stalks, surveyed her, and he clicked his pincers together when he saw her looking.

  Goolig looked more humanoid, except for the disturbing number of tentacle-like fingers on each hand, but he was equally massive, and yellow slime dripped from his body. She shuddered at the thought of being touched by that oozing skin.

  “As a reminder, whoever wins today’s matches will earn his freedom. And as a special reward, one week with this soft little female.”

  As the announcer spoke, one of the guards stepped forward and, with a lascivious grin, ripped the sheer garment from her body. The dress hadn’t provided much protection, but now that it was gone, she was even more conscious of her nakedness. Perhaps that had been the intention. She did her best not to show any reaction. The crowd cheered, and she saw yellow drool slip from Goolig’s mouth as he licked his lips, but she stared over their heads and tried to imagine herself far, far away.

  A gong sounded, and then the fight began. Despite her best intentions, she found herself watching the violent struggle. If she had thought about it, she would have assumed Hvach, with his hard shell and large pincers, would have been the clear victor. While he did manage to catch hold of one of Goolig’s hands and slice off two digits, Goolig barely flinched.

  “Think he’s on majat?” one of the guards muttered to the other.

  “Nah. The Naimal don’t need drugs. When they’re in battle mode, they don’t feel their wounds.”

  “Well, shit. I bet on Hvach.”

  “Not over yet.”

  But even as the second guard spoke, Goolig ducked under Hvach’s guard to get behind him and jumped up with his arms around the other male’s neck. With one hand, he snapped both eye stalks, and when Hvach roared, Goolig jammed his entire fist down the open throat. Hvach flailed helplessly as he tried to dislodge Goolig but to no avail. He threw himself backward, trying to crush the other male beneath him, but it was too late, and his struggles slowly diminished. When at last he lay still, Goolig pushed the body to one side and stood, holding something that looked disgustingly like a tongue in the fist he removed from Hvach’s throat. The crowd went crazy, and Izzie fought back the urge to be sick.

  A brief interlude was announced. Goolig disappeared back into his tunnel after one last look at Izzie. A couple of attendants removed Hvach’s body and raked over the sand until there was no sign that anything had occurred.

  Behind her, the crowd stirred restlessly. She could see aliens exchanging credits, purchasing odd kinds of food and drink, and chatting with their fellow attendees. If it hadn’t been for the startling variety of life-forms, it could have been halftime at a professional football game. The heat of the suns bore down on her, and she could feel her skin flushing beneath its natural tan. The dry ache in her mouth and throat begin to dominate her thoughts. Even the uncomfortable stretch of her arms and legs and the burn beginning under her skin diminished in comparison to the need for water.

  She swayed in her chains, and the noise of the crowd became a general roaring in her ears. One word finally caught her attention, and she raised her head enough to see that once again two fighters stood in front of her. On her right, Goolig leered at her, but she tried to focus on the one to her left. A massive white-furred figure, he stood tall and relaxed, confidence in every line of that big body.

  Baralt.

  Didn’t all that fur make him hot? she wondered dizzily. Then their eyes met. His were as cool and blue as the turquoise seas off the coast of Mexico.

  The announcer was still droning on, but Baralt ignored him, stepping forward and demanding the attention of the guards.

  “Has she had anything to drink?” he asked in a low soothing rumble.

  The guards exchanged a glance, then shook their heads nervously.

  “I said no damage,” Baralt growled. “Give her water immediately.”

  Another nervous glance, and then one of them reached for the bottle he’d been drinking from.

  “This is all I have.”

  “Then give it to her. Slowly.”

  The guard opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, then shrugged and stepped over to her. Lifting her head, he poured water into her mouth.

  It was warm and foul tasting, and he was pouring it so quickly that she was on the verge of choking, but she didn’t care. She could literally feel her body absorbing the moisture and beginning to recover. She choked a second time and heard Baralt growl.

  “I said slowly.”

  The guard slowed down, but he didn’t stop until she had taken all of it. She could feel the water sloshing around in her stomach like a lead weight, but she didn’t care. She licked her lips to capture the last drops of moisture and found Baralt staring at her. Their eyes locked, and she had the oddest feeling that he actually saw her as a person rather than a slave. Before she could stop herself, she gave him a small, grateful smile.

  “Since when are you so worried about a slave?” the guard asked, interrupting the moment, and the realization of her circumstances came rushing back.

  “I want her conscious,” Baralt said, turning back to the arena without another word.

  Of course. His words ripped away that momentary sense of connection, just as the guard had ripped away her dress, and she was left feeling equally naked. Kindness was not a part of this new world.

  Chapter Four

  Baralt forced himself to speak dismissively and turn away despite seeing first shock, then anger flaring in his little human’s eyes at his words. He could not afford to show compassion now, no matter how much he wanted to free her from her chain and carry her back to his cave…to his quarters.

  When he had first emerged from the tunnel and seen her there, her luscious body fully displayed, all the blood in his body had rushed to his kotra, and for a terrible moment, he had feared it would emerge from his sheath for all to see. He had managed to get it under control, a feat that had grown easier as he’d approached and realized that she was not well. Her golden skin was flushed red, and she hung limply in her chains. When she’d raised her head at the sound of his voice, he’d been able to see her struggle to focus.

  The heat of the arena weighed on him, but at least he had his fur to insulate him. She had nothing but soft naked skin. For a moment, he had actually considered cutting her down and taking her away with him, but he was only a single male, and the crowd—not to mention Relkhei—would not allow their amusement to be taken away from them so easily.

  As he resumed his position, he looked up to find Relkhei watching him, and his heart sank. If the other male had realized his inexplicable concern for this human female, Relkhei would have no hesitation using it against him. Resolving to show Relkhei no sign of weakness, he readied himself for the fight.

  Goolig attacked at the first note of the gong. It was not technically cheating, but it was a clear indicator that no courtesies would be exchanged. Baralt bared his teeth and went for the kill.

  The fight passed in a montage of heat and fury. As Baralt had seen on the training videos, Goolig was a cunning, vicious fighter. He used his natural speed and the poisonous secretions that covered his body to his best advantage. But as long as Baralt’s knee held up, he was just as fast, and his fur provided a natural barrier to the slow-acting poison in Goolig’s slime.

  Goolig’s claws caught him across the ribs, penetrating his fur enough to leave a deep gash. It was far from fatal, but the constant loss of blood would eventually take its toll. He returned the blow with a slash to Goolig’s neck, but the slime made his claws slip, and he only succeeded in opening Goolig’s skin rather than severing an artery.

  On the next pass, disaster struck as he turned too quickly and his knee started to crumple. He caught himself in time to avoid falling, but the bone-deep ach
e warned him that he could not rely on that leg. Goolig immediately spotted the weakness and directed his attacks at that side. He danced back and forth, too fast for Baralt to catch him, and each time he delivered another slashing blow. None of them were overly serious, but each of them contributed to the blood loss.

  “Now I see why you don’t fight to the death,” Goolig taunted. “You know you’d lose to a real fighter.”

  Baralt had far too much experience to be baited. Instead, he concentrated on feinting to his bad side with each of Goolig’s advances. Goolig continued to strike his blows, his movements growing steadily more confident.

  “You liked that little human, didn’t you? Too bad she’ll be screaming my name when I ram my cock into her tight little holes. But don’t worry. By the time I’m through with her, she will be of no use to anyone else.”

  Baralt’s restraint vanished. Goolig had moved just far enough that Baralt could put his weight on his good leg. With his own flash of speed, he grabbed Goolig as he darted close once more, but this time, Baralt didn’t let him get away. He wrapped one hand around Goolig’s neck and the other around his shoulders, using his claws to keep hold of Goolig despite his slippery skin. He pulled Goolig’s head to one side and sank his fangs into the opening he had made previously. Bitter slime filled his mouth, and he could feel it going numb, but he bit harder, deeper, until he felt the artery beneath his fangs, and with one twist of his head, he ripped it open.

  Goolig’s body dropped to the ground, blood pooling beneath his neck, but Baralt didn’t spare him a second glance. The other male was dead. The crowd roared, but he ignored them, ignored the pain radiating from his knee, ignored the blood dripping from his many wounds and the numbness in his mouth. He climbed the platform in two giant steps, yanked his human’s chains free, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for his cave.

  Thousands of years of primal instinct flooded his bloodstream. He had fought. He had won. The female was his.

  Izzie was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to protest as the big white-furred warrior threw her over his shoulder. She had thought perhaps he was better than the others? She knew better now, now that she had seen him ripping out his opponent’s throat, blood streaming down his face as he’d come for her.

  “Put me down, damn it.” Her fists beat uselessly against his broad muscled back. Despite his silky soft fur, there was no give in his flesh, and the effort only caused her breasts to rub against him in a surprisingly erotic caress. The musky scent of his fur filled her senses.

  “Mine,” he growled, his hand clamping down on her ass. The low, pleasant voice from earlier had disappeared, leaving only an animalistic snarl. As his hand tightened, his thumb pressed between her legs, against all her smooth, newly naked flesh. There was no way that it should feel good, no way she could possibly be aroused by his primal possessiveness, but as his thumb worked his way deeper, she was horrified to realize that it was sliding in her own wetness.

  Determined to escape, she twisted and bucked, but he only gripped her more tightly, and she felt a thick digit actually begin to enter her disturbingly wet channel. She froze, and she felt a low rumble of approval vibrate through his body.

  The noise of the crowd died away, and she realized they were back in the tunnel. He was moving so quickly that the surrounding walls flashed by in a dizzying kaleidoscope.

  “What a great win!” An excited little voice sounded from up in front of them. “We could charge double for those fights.”

  “Not now.” Baralt’s words were barely intelligible.

  “Now is the perfect time! Everyone is still enthralled by your victory. I could possibly even charge three times—”

  There was a muffled grunt, and Izzie raised her head in time to see a small orange alien leaning against the tunnel wall and clutching his shoulder as he glared after them.

  He was barely out of sight before she heard the sound of doors opening, and a rush of blessedly cool air swept across her body. Baralt took two steps into the room and finally removed his thumb from her pussy before letting her slide down his body. Letting her slide down against a very large cock.

  She jumped back, and he let her go, raising his hand and licking his wet thumb with an appreciative groan. Her gaze skittered down his body, over wide shoulders and a muscular chest, and stopped on his cock. Huge and glistening, it seemed to have emerged from his body, the thick purple head pointing directly at her.

  Her mouth went dry in an unexpected combination of both terror and lust. What would it feel like to have that massive appendage splitting her open? Her clit gave a sudden pulse, her own body betraying her, as the lingering arousal between her legs flared to life.

  No. It had to be some devilish alien trick, and she wasn’t about to give in. She backed up a few more steps, looking desperately for some kind of weapon. There was nothing. The big room consisted of large, low-slung couches covered in what looked like pink velvet—pink?—arranged to face a large screen. A few small tables were scattered around, but they looked as if they were made of the same rock that composed the walls.

  She sidled toward the doors, and he took a quick step in her direction. His leg crumpled beneath him, and she saw him begin to fall. She automatically started to reach for him and then remembered that she needed to escape. Ignoring his pained cry as his body collapsed on the floor, she darted for the doors. Prying at them didn’t work, and she couldn’t find any way to open them. Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes as she pounded on the unresponsive panels.

  “They won’t open.” Baralt’s voice came from behind her, and she whirled to find him propped against the wall, rubbing his knee. As she watched, his cock disappeared into a furry sheath. He gave her an oddly charming grin, charming despite the fangs. “I’m sorry. My instincts got the best of me.”

  “Fine. Apology accepted as soon as you let me go.”

  His glowing blue eyes studied her face. “And where are you going to go?”

  “Somewhere where I’m not a slave.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked, surprising her. No one else had bothered to ask.

  “Isabel Mendez. Izzie.”

  “This is a slave planet, Isabel. There’s no escape for you here,” he said gently.

  She scowled at him. “Then I’ll find my way off the planet.”

  “Do you have anywhere to go?” His voice was still gentle, sympathetic, and that, more than anything, breached her defenses.

  She abandoned the door and slid down to sit a cautious arm’s length away from him. She hissed as her burned back rubbed against the wall, but at least the cool stone helped to relieve the sting.

  “How the hell did I end up in a place like this?” she asked rhetorically.

  “I assume you were taken from your home planet?”

  “Yeah. I was walking home after work, and then I woke up on the slave ship.” First slave ships, now slave planets. A lump filled her throat. “Isn’t there anywhere safe?”

  “Does your planet have an arrangement with the Empire?”

  She snorted. “My planet has no idea that the Kaisarian Empire exists.” She only knew about it because Rummel had provided her with a brief, profane background of the Empire, along with his planet’s interactions with it. His stories had distracted her when pain and despair had threatened to overwhelm her.

  If anything, Baralt’s voice was even softer. “Then I’m afraid there is no chance of you returning home.”

  “I pretty much figured that one out. But isn’t there somewhere I can be free? Where everyone I meet doesn’t want to hurt me or fuck me?” Or both.

  He hesitated, looking down at his hands. “It is a harsh universe. I thought once that my people should have more contact with it. I was wrong.”

  “Is your planet like this?”

  He barked a laugh. “Not in the least.”

  “Do your people keep slaves?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But they do not trust anyone other than themselves.” />
  She slumped back against the wall, and they sat in silence for a long moment as she tried not to let despair overwhelm her. The better life she had been working so hard to achieve was gone forever.

  Baralt finally pushed himself to his feet, the movement obviously painful. When he extended a hand to her, she eyed it suspiciously.

  “You do not need to worry. The only thing on my mind right now is a bath. I suspect you might appreciate one as well.”

  And hoping that she was making the right decision, she took his hand.

  Chapter Five

  Baralt felt his chest tighten as Isabel put her hand in his, small and impossibly soft. She had tiny blunt claws, as defenseless as the rest of her body, but she had the spirit of a fighter. The feel of her skin against his started to reawaken his lust, but he focused on the ache in his knee rather than the ache in his kotra.

  He pulled her gently to her feet and watched in concern as she swayed.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just a little dizzy.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I think the heat got to me.”

  “This is why you have changed color?” He dared to brush his hand along her arm, indicating the red glow beneath her golden skin. As delicate as his touch had been, she winced. “Did I hurt you?”

  “It’s not you. It’s the sunburn.”

  “You were burned by the sun?” he asked in horror. He hadn’t realized the full consequences of naked skin. It was a terrible price to pay for such silky softness. “Should I fetch a healer?”

  She shuddered. “No. I’ve been examined once, and I don’t want to repeat that process. You mentioned a bath. Some cool water would feel good.” She took another step and swayed again. “I should probably drink some more as well.” Those blunt little teeth closed down on a full bottom lip. “Thank you for making the guard give me some water.”

  Yes, of course she would be dehydrated. He had made sure that she was provided with suitable food and drink while she was in the slave quarters—he should not have forgotten to attend to her needs now that she was with him.