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

by Honey Phillips

  “I did.” He sat down next to her, and she caught a hint of his appealing musky scent. “The male I went to see is looking into transportation options.”

  “Do you trust him?” she asked suspiciously. In her experience, most people were only out for what they could get.

  “Yes, I think I do. He has not been here long, but he is an honorable fighter.”

  She supposed that was better than nothing. “And you still think it’s possible? You think I can get away from here?”

  “I believe that it’s possible.” He hesitated. “There is something you need to consider. You would be an escaped slave. Relkhei could send someone after you or issue a bounty for your return.”

  The idea of being hunted filled her with dread. “I know you said I couldn’t go home, but why can’t you just take me back to Earth? There are billions of people there—he would never be able to find me.”

  “Based on our discussion yesterday, my understanding is that you come from a pre-spaceflight world. Any contact with those worlds is forbidden.”

  She scowled at him. “Yeah, right. That’s how come I ended up here.”

  “I stand corrected. I should have said that any legitimate contact is forbidden. What that means is that it would be extremely difficult to find a trustworthy pilot to return you to your world. And there is another difficulty—do you know where your world is located?”

  Her mind raced as she tried to remember any information about the location of Earth in the galaxy. “Um, it’s a solar system with nine planets, but I suppose that doesn’t help much. I think I remember reading that the nearest star system is Alpha Centauri.”

  He shook his head, and she realized that of course their naming system wouldn’t translate.

  “The bastards who took me must know where it’s located.”

  “They would, but we would have to find them. Did they auction you off here on Tgesh Tai?”

  “No.”

  She shuddered at the memory of being dragged naked into an examining room on the Derian ship. After the painful, humiliating exam, she had been chained in front of a large screen. She hadn’t been able to see who’d been on the other side, but a short time later, she had been placed back in her cage. Although she’d tried to resist, she had been shocked again. When she’d regained consciousness, she’d been in a new location. Rummel and the little lizard creature had been nowhere in sight, and her cage had been stacked in what appeared to be some type of cargo hold. She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed—perhaps a day or two—before she had been unloaded and handed over to Relkhei’s guards to be chained and marched through a series of stone tunnels.

  She rubbed her shoulder at the memory. She had tried to escape during the transfer, but although the guards hadn’t used shock sticks, their methods had been unfortunately effective. One of them had caught her by the arm and simply yanked it up behind her back until she’d thought it would snap.

  “You don’t need two working arms for what the boss has in mind for you,” he’d said in her ear. “Try that move again and I’ll break it.”

  The thought of being even more helpless had been enough to make her stand still as they’d fastened the cuffs around her wrists and chained them together.

  “I did not mean to upset you,” Baralt said softly, bringing her back to the present.

  “I know you didn’t. And you’re right—I was transferred from the Derian ship to another ship before landing here.”

  She finally permitted herself to truly acknowledge what she had suspected all along: she was never returning home. She wondered if anyone would even notice that she was gone. The other waitresses at the diner, perhaps one or two of her professors. She hadn’t spoken to her father since she was sixteen and there was no one who she was really close to anymore.

  “If I can’t go home, does that mean all I have to look forward to is being hunted?”

  He reached over and took her hand, and rather to her surprise, she let him. Her hand was so much smaller than his, but she didn’t feel afraid as he closed his fingers gently around hers.

  “I have a suggestion, although it may not appeal to you.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  He scanned her body, his eyes obviously appreciative, and she almost blushed. He raised his other hand and gently stroked the shell of her ear, sending a not unpleasant shiver down her spine.

  “You have other hearing receptacles?”

  “It’s just an expression. It means I’m listening.”

  “Ah, I see. My suggestion is that we travel to my home planet of Hothrest.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why do you think we should go there? And why would I object?”

  “It is located a long way from the center of the Empire, and my people have negotiated a good deal of freedom from Imperial oversight.”

  “If that means no one will be looking for an escaped slave, that sounds wonderful.”

  He looked down at her hand, gently exploring her fingers. He seemed fascinated by the short length of her nails.

  “It is a harsh world,” he said finally. “We are located far from our sun, and the planet is covered with ice and snow. We would not be able to remain in the port but would have to return to my home caves.”

  “Your caves?” It certainly didn’t sound particularly appealing, but then she looked around at his room and realized that it was essentially a cave. If his home planet was like this, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. But ice and snow?

  “I’m going to need clothes. You may be naturally equipped for that environment, but I am not.”

  “I realize that, my little aria, but it will have to wait until we leave Tgesh Tai. I will request more clothing for you, but the usual outfits for slaves do not provide much protection.”

  “You can say that again,” she muttered, then waved a hand when he looked confused. “Never mind. It’s just an expression. I did find this in your room—is it okay for me to wear?”

  The blanket had been wrapped around her shoulders as they talked, and she dropped it now to reveal the cloth fastened around her body. He growled, and she gave him a startled look, but he didn’t seem angry. His eyes heated the way they had when he’d seen her in the arena.

  “That is a ceremonial kiltar. It is only worn for special occasions such as when one joins with their chosen mate.”

  Oh shit. She was wearing a wedding outfit?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to offend you.”

  “You did not offend me. I like the sight of you in my kiltar.” His hand tightened around hers, and he pulled her toward him. She instinctively—and uselessly—tried to pull away. Despite her ineffectual resistance, he immediately stopped and dropped her hand. “Perhaps I like it too much. We will see about getting you some other clothing as soon as possible.”

  He stood abruptly, and she hastily pulled the blanket back around her shoulders. As enjoyable as the previous night’s incident had been, she wasn’t sure that she was ready to pursue anything else.

  He strode over to a set of glass shelves tucked into a niche in the stone wall and poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter. The glass looked impossibly fragile in his big hand, but he treated it with great delicacy, just as he had treated her the previous night. The memory washed over her again, and she felt her body respond, but she refused to acknowledge the sensation.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked belatedly.

  “What is that?”

  “This is shatam. It is made from the fruit of the jimsa tree.”

  Somehow she suspected that it was more than just fruit juice, but what the hell. After everything she had been through, she deserved a drink.

  “Sure. I’ll try it.”

  He poured a small quantity of the bright purple liquid into another glass and brought it to her. She took a cautious sip. Mmm. Definitely alcoholic, but it had a pleasant fruity aftertaste that counteracted the bite of the alcohol.

  “This is very good.”

&n
bsp; “I am quite fond of it as well.” He frowned and sat down beside her with his own glass. “You will not be able to experience it on Hothrest.”

  “You don’t have jimsa trees?”

  “They do not grow in our climate, and Hothians choose not to import any products from other worlds.”

  “Why not?”

  “We—they—have a great respect for our history and our customs. They have chosen to avoid any outside influence. Except for technology,” he added dryly. “Our monitoring systems and weaponry are completely up-to-date.”

  “Didn’t you say that hand-to-hand combat was the only true combat?” She took another sip of her drink, feeling a warm glow stealing through her veins.

  “Are you using my own words against me?” He grinned at her, and despite the rather intimidating display of fangs, it was surprisingly attractive.

  “Just pointing out the flaw in your argument.”

  “And you are quite right. Neither technology nor off-world weapons are permitted within the caves that are our ancestral homes.” The smile left his face as he stared off into the distance. “I made the mistake of trying to encourage them to have more interaction with the rest of the Empire.”

  “Why was that a mistake?”

  “Because someone died.”

  Despite the abrupt answer, she could hear the pain in his voice. Her normal caution tempered by the alcohol, she leaned over to put her hand on his, but the drink seemed to have affected her coordination as well as her compassion, and she tumbled forward into his arms.

  He caught her and settled her into his lap. She briefly considered protesting, but his chest was firm and silky beneath her cheek, and the big arms around her felt protective rather than confining. With a faint sigh, she snuggled closer, taking comfort in the musky scent that she already associated with him. She was vaguely aware that his cock stiffened beneath her and that her own body started to respond, but she was too sleepy to worry about either his arousal or her own. Her fingers tightened in his fur as she drifted back to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Baralt looked down at the small female asleep in his arms and was once again filled with a mixture of lust and unexpected contentment. The thin cloth of his kiltar did little to conceal her lush curves—curves he remembered only too well. His kotra pressed uncomfortably against his sheath, but he would not take advantage of her trust. She felt so right nestled against him.

  This is only temporary, he reminded himself. He would get her off the planet and safely to Hothrest. Once they knew that Relkhei was not actively pursuing her, she would be free to make other plans. The thought made his chest ache.

  After leaving Hothrest, he had assumed he would never find a mate. Even on Hothrest, his prospects had been doubtful. Their females were few, and he had been too rash and too outspoken. The Elders of his tribe kept their precious daughters away from him. At the time, he had not considered it a loss, and he had accepted that he would spend his life alone. For the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have someone in his life. He already knew he would miss this female when she was gone.

  He would have to decide what his future path would be as well. He didn’t anticipate remaining on Hothrest—that ice bridge had collapsed long ago. Neither did he wish to return to fighting, but what else was he good for?

  The thought of fighting reminded him that he needed to make arrangements to complete his contracted number of matches over the coming week. Ignoring his unusual melancholy at the thought of the future, he carried his female into the bedroom and tucked her beneath the covers. She murmured something as he put her down, and her hand clung to him, but then she sighed and settled down. Foolishly, he stood there watching her sleep. If he was reluctant to leave her now, how much worse was it going to be when she was no longer his to protect? Shaking his head, he forced himself to return to the living room to start setting up the fights.

  “I don’t understand,” Mehexip complained the next day as he scurried along at Baralt’s side. “Why did you have me set up this fight? And the one later in the week? They are low-ranking fighters. Your fee for the match is barely above the minimum payment.”

  “Are you concerned that your percentage is too small?” He turned to confront the smaller male directly.

  “No, no, not at all.” Mehexip paled at the anger in Baralt’s voice, turning a sickly shade of yellow. “It is just that we—you—have spent a lot of time building up your reputation, and these fights will do nothing to enhance it.” He looked around nervously, then lowered his voice. “There are rumors that you are no longer…capable.”

  Baralt snorted and resumed the walk to the arena. What would Mehexip think if he knew Baralt was also scheduling late-night matches with some of the slave fighters? Of course, it was entirely possible that he would find out. The fight pit really was a hotbed of gossip. While he was not overly concerned about Mehexip’s reaction, he hoped he could keep everything quiet until it was time to leave.

  “I assure you that my fighting skills are undamaged,” he growled even though it was not entirely true. The damage he had done to his knee in the death match continued to bother him.

  “Of course,” Mehexip said hastily. “I didn’t mean that I had doubts. It’s just that I have heard other people speculate.”

  “Let them speculate.”

  “Whatever you say. But we could take advantage of the rumors. A small bet, perhaps?”

  “You know that I don’t gamble on my fights.”

  Mehexip ducked his head in acknowledgment but not before Baralt saw the speculation in the other male’s eyes. Oh well. He supposed he couldn’t begrudge his agent his last chance to make money off Baralt.

  The tunnel brightened as the sunlight reflecting off the sands of the arena poured through the open doors. He could hear the noise of the crowd and smell the lingering traces of blood and death. This was all so familiar to him now. What would it be like to return to the icy cold and the barren landscape of Hothrest? Even after all these years, part of him still longed for the silence of the snowy mountains. But for now, he had a fight to win, and he pushed aside his memories and stepped into the arena.

  Izzie paced nervously. It was ridiculous to be worried about Baralt. She had seen him fight, and she couldn’t imagine anyone capable of defeating him. And yet she hated knowing that he had gone to fight a match for her sake—a match that he had chosen to fight simply so that he could escort her off this terrible planet.

  The door alarm sounded, and she jumped. No one had visited them since Relkhei had left except for an odious little alien who had come to escort Baralt to the fight. He had eyed her in a way that had made her feel unclean until Baralt had noticed and ordered him not to look at her. He really was a sweetheart.

  After her second nap the previous day, they had spent the rest of the time together. He had fed her and answered her questions about the Kaisarian Empire, of which she was now an unwilling citizen. In turn, she had answered his questions about Earth. The time had passed by surprisingly quickly, and when exhaustion had overtaken her again, she had barely hesitated when he’d accompanied her into the bedroom and lain down next to her.

  When she had woken during the night from a panicked dream of being back on the Derian ship, his big body and comforting scent had reassured her. She had woken him as well, but he hadn’t complained, simply pulling her into his arms and gently stroking her back until she’d calmed. She’d spent the rest of the night there, and no more nightmares had troubled her.

  But now she was alone, and someone was at the door. Still, she was supposed to be under his protection. Lifting her chin, she opened the door.

  Tugtai, the female who had been part of her “preparation” in the harem, was standing there, and Izzie’s pulse sped up.

  “What are you doing here? I’m with Baralt.”

  “I know that. He sent for clothing for you.” The female sneered at Izzie’s outfit—she was still wearing Baralt’s kiltar. “I am here to dress you
.”

  “I don’t need to be dressed.”

  “What you think you need is unimportant. Your temporary master has spoken.” Tugtai swept in before Izzie could respond, and two more females followed her, each of them carrying large containers. “Now remove that pitiful excuse for clothing, and I will determine the most flattering outfits.”

  “I said I don’t need your help,” Izzie repeated through clenched teeth.

  “Would you prefer that I sent for Master Napunsa?”

  Izzie shuddered at the memory of the caterpillar-like alien. It had been easier to forget her status as a slave with Baralt treating her as simply another person, but this was a painful reminder she was not free. Even though she was under Baralt’s protection, it would be foolish to antagonize the harem master.

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said quietly.

  “I thought not.” Tugtai smiled triumphantly, and Izzie’s fists clenched. She longed to slap that smug smile off the other female’s face, but she reminded herself to be patient.

  “Now remove that garment, and I will see what I can do,” Tugtai ordered.

  By the time Tugtai and her assistants left an hour later, Izzie was tired, angry, and reluctantly impressed. As much as she hated being treated as little more than a piece of sexual meat, she had to admit that the female knew her stuff. The selection of outfits that remained were far more revealing than anything she would choose to wear, but they were undoubtedly flattering.

  She surveyed herself in the mirror in the bathing cave and barely recognized herself. Between her job and her classes, she had neither the time nor the money for anything other than basic clothing. Certainly nothing like this. Dark-red silk, subtly sprinkled with gold thread, caught the light and set off the golden tones of her skin. The fabric crisscrossed over her breasts, accenting the lush mounds, before drifting down to the tops of her thighs in a short, flirty skirt. Too short, she realized, as she twirled in front of the mirror and the fabric lifted to reveal her ass and her naked pussy. Tugtai had merely stared at her when she’d asked for underwear.