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

by Honey Phillips

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go and find the bathing pool and I will meet you there?”

  He saw the longing on her face, but she shook her head. “I’m not leaving you with this mess.”

  “It won’t take me long. And our pool is superior to Relkhei’s…”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Straight through that archway and second passage on the right. I will join you shortly.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” She shot him a quick grin. “Naked.”

  “No kitchen will ever be cleaned more quickly,” he promised, and she laughed and disappeared through the archway.

  The kitchen did not, perhaps, receive his best efforts, but when he walked into the bathing room and found his mate flushed, naked, and glowing in the steam from the bath, he had no regrets.

  “Everything clean?” she asked with a teasing grin.

  “In there. Now it is your turn.” He stripped out of his clothes as he spoke, and she watched him avidly, her gaze going to where the head of his kotra had started to peek out of his sheath. She licked her lips, and he shuddered at the memory of those soft lips closing around his shaft.

  “Are you going to wash me?” Her low, sultry voice only added to his desire.

  “Of course, my mate.”

  An expression he couldn’t read crossed her face, and small white teeth clamped down on her plump lower lip before she looked away from him. “You were right. This is really beautiful.”

  He allowed himself to be diverted as he followed her gaze. The walls had been allowed to retain their natural crevices, and many of them were planted with small flowering mosses. The glow crystals were scattered throughout the space to create little sparks of light instead of forming a single overhead source of illumination. Water from the hot springs deep inside the mountain trickled gently down one wall and into the pool.

  “You haven’t seen everything.”

  After crossing to the outer wall, he threw the hidden lever that caused part of the rock face to slide to one side. Outside, a crevice in the rock formed a natural balcony. Snow lay deep and untouched in the small space, and beyond the edge, he could see the vast expanse of the snowy plains under a sky full of stars.

  Isabel gasped. “What a wonderful view. Who thought to do something like that?”

  “We have always believed that alternating a hot bath with exposure to the cold keeps you healthy.”

  “I think I’m healthy enough,” she said firmly. “I have no desire to roll around in the snow.”

  “Is this too cold? Should I close the wall again?”

  “Not yet. The water is keeping me warm, and I like being able to see the stars. It’s almost like being back on the ship.” She looked at him and licked her lips again, and he knew she was remembering the nights they had spent exploring each other.

  Unable to wait any longer, he joined her in the water, lifting her into his arms but letting her keep looking out over the landscape. They sat in silence for a minute, and despite the hardness of his aching kotra, he was content. Despite everything that had happened, the caves still felt like home to him, especially now with his mate in his arms. Remembering her earlier hesitation, he decided the subject needed to be addressed.

  “Why did you look away when I called you my mate?”

  Instead of looking at him, she picked up one of his hands and began exploring his fingers.

  “What does that mean? Mate?”

  “It means that you are mine and I am yours.”

  “You mean like we’re married? For ever and ever until death do us part?”

  The first term she used didn’t translate, but he understood the second part and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, that is exactly correct.”

  “Don’t you ask someone if they want to be your mate?” Her voice sounded strange, and his heart thudded against his chest.

  “I did ask you if you chose me. You said yes.” He had to force out the next words. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “Am I allowed to?” Her body felt stiff against his.

  “I would never force you to mate with me,” he said gently even though his chest ached. “I want you to be a willing partner.”

  A little of the tenseness disappeared as she turned to look up at him. “What about you? Can you change your mind?”

  “Nothing will ever alter the way I feel about you.”

  Her eyes widened. “How you feel?”

  “Yes. I love you, Isabel. Why else would I ask you to choose me?”

  “Don’t you think you should have mentioned that?”

  “I thought you understood.”

  “I think we need to work on your communication skills.”

  But despite her words, she was smiling as she swung around to straddle his lap and face him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Although she had not returned his sentiments, she was once again smiling and happy in his arms, and he allowed himself to hope that it was simply a matter of time.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So what is this paxha hunt that Njkall thinks you should go on?” Isabel asked much later. They were snuggled together in his big bed after a session in the bathing pool that had left him drained and satisfied, and she was gently stroking his chest.

  “It is a tradition of my people. It is done to celebrate the changes of the seasons, and also each male child must complete a successful hunt before they are accepted as a full member of the tribe.”

  “What about the female children?”

  “They are considered too precious to risk. I’m not sure if you noticed, but we have many more males than females. I never expected to find a mate,” he confessed.

  “What happens to the males who can’t find a mate?”

  “Sometimes they agree to share a female if she is willing. Sometimes they turn to each other.” He gave her a rueful grin. “And sometimes, they dedicate their life to fighting.”

  “I hope you think this is better than fighting.”

  “Being with you is better than any alternative.”

  “You’re very sweet, Baralt.” She reached up and brushed a much-too-hasty kiss across his lips. “But you didn’t finish telling me about the hunt. Do you go out on the plains?”

  “No, we go down into the deepest underground caverns.” He nodded at the etching on the wall. “That was the result of my first hunt. I suppose I will need to find a place to display the second.”

  “You mean that mural?”

  “I do not recognize that word. That is an accurate representation of the paxha that I defeated. The skin is used to create the marking.”

  She sat up, her expression horrified. “But it must be ten feet long.”

  “It was a good size,” he agreed proudly.

  “Is it some kind of fish?” she asked, still staring at the image.

  “Yes, that is why we go so deep. They only swim in the underground rivers beneath the caves.”

  “What do you hunt them with? I mean, what kind of weapons do you use?”

  He grinned, baring his fangs, then let his claws emerge. “Only the ones that the gods provided.”

  “Baralt, that’s crazy. What if something happens to you? What if one of those things eats you?”

  “That’s a very rare occurrence,” he assured her. “You are not allowed to go on the hunt until you are ready.”

  “It’s rare?! But that means it can happen.”

  “It has not happened for many years,” he said soothingly.

  “How many years?”

  “It had been at least two years before I left.” At least, since a fatal incident had occurred.

  “What about since then?”

  She climbed out bed and started pacing, her eyes wide and panicked.

  “Do not worry, my aria. I have done this before, and I can do it again.”

  “But it’s been such a long time.”

  “Do you doubt my skills?

  “Well, no. But…”

  He
could tell she wasn’t convinced. Perhaps she needed a demonstration…

  “Actually, hunting a paxha is much like hunting a mate,” he said thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “One travels down into the dark, into unknown territory.” His voice dropped to a low growl as he got up and stalked toward her.

  She instinctively backed away, her eyes even wider now, but the panic had been replaced by something else. He moved with deliberate slowness, allowing her to skitter past him.

  “Your prey attempts to elude you, but you stay on their trail.”

  She stopped on the far side of the bed, her luscious breasts trembling, her nipples tight little buds. Once again, he prowled after her. She waited until he almost reached her, then squeaked and tried to dive back across the bed. He let her get halfway across, then pounced, enclosing her in his arms and legs as he carefully kept his weight off her small body.

  “And when the time is right, you capture them,” he whispered in her ear. The sweet scent of her arousal filled his senses.

  “What if they fight back?” Her voice was breathless, but even though she was wiggling beneath him, he knew she wasn’t trying to get away.

  “Then you have to show them that they belong to you.”

  He gently scraped his fangs across her neck in the exact spot that always made her shiver and slid his hand beneath her. Her liquid heat coated his fingers as he found the swollen pearl of her clit. Deliberately keeping his touch feather light, he circled the small nub until she was writhing beneath him, the delicious curves of her ass dancing against his kotra as she tried to increase the pressure.

  “Baralt! Please.”

  “Then when the moment is right, you strike.”

  He lifted her hips in the air and plunged into her. Even as wet as she was, her body resisted and he tried to slow down, but she threw her hips back, demanding more, and he was lost. He roared, the triumphant cry of a hunter subduing his prey, as his world narrowed to the small body rising to meet his, to his female, his mate. He heard her cry out, felt her cunt fluttering wildly around him, and thrust harder, deeper. One final stroke and his seed erupted in endless pulses, leaving him limp and drained as his ring locked them together.

  He pulled her even closer and buried his face in her neck as he waited for his heartbeat to slow. His game had only proven what he had known all along—that she was the one who had captured him.

  “All right. You convinced me that you’re a good hunter,” she admitted when his ring finally subsided and he reluctantly pulled out.

  “I promise that I will return to you, my aria.”

  “You had better,” she said fiercely and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him.

  “They have been gone so long,” Izzie complained as she paced around the living space once again.

  “As I told you, it is a long way down to the underground river.” Zemma rolled her eyes. “Stop worrying. And stop pacing—you’re making me dizzy.”

  “I can’t stop worrying. Baralt went off to fight some type of prehistoric fanged fish in the dark. It’s completely insane.”

  Zemma shrugged. “It’s a male thing. You have to let them have their games.”

  “It’s not a game!” she yelled. “What if he gets hurt? Or…killed.” The last word emerged in a horrified whisper.

  “You do care for him, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?”

  “I saw your face when he called you his mate. You didn’t look happy.”

  “I wasn’t sure what it meant,” she said truthfully but evasively. Baralt’s declaration had thrown her off-balance. She did care for the big warrior, and the thought of being separated from him made her heart ache. But married—mated? They hadn’t known each other very long, and she was still technically a slave. Was this just another form of ownership? Even on Earth, she had avoided any serious relationships, unwilling to give up her hard-earned freedom. And yet she had never felt the way she felt about Baralt.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” Zemma asked. “It might be more productive than trying to wear a hole in the floor.”

  “I don’t want to leave. I want to be here when he returns.”

  “You do have it bad.”

  “What about you? Do you worry about that other male you told me about?”

  “He’s a warrior,” Zemma said firmly. “He can take care of himself.”

  “You really don’t worry about him?”

  Zemma started to nod, then her face crumpled. “Of course I worry. I worry that he will be hurt. I worry that he will get tired of waiting for me. I worry that he will find someone else.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. The last time I tried to leave the tribe, it didn’t work out very well. I think this time is different, but what if I’m wrong?”

  “I guess it comes back to how much you care for him—and how much you’re willing to risk.”

  “It’s not just that. With Chotgor, I never expected it to last. I knew that I would be returning here—or at least I did until I realized what type of male he truly was and that I was under his control.” The familiar shadow crossed Zemma’s face, and Izzie squeezed her hand. Zemma forced a smile and returned to the original topic. “But if Strax and I are mated, I’m not sure that I will ever be allowed to return.”

  “They allowed me to stay,” she pointed out.

  “Temporarily,” Zemma reminded her. “I’m not even sure that I would want to live here, but I don’t want to feel as if I’ve left my tribe behind.”

  “Are you still close to your mother’s family? What do they think?”

  “They pretty much washed their fur of me when I went to live with Chotgor.” Zemma shrugged, but Izzie saw the pain in her eyes. “Everyone was so happy to see me when I returned—everyone except them. They told me that I had damaged the family name by going to live with an offworlder.”

  “Did they know what happened to you?”

  “No, thank the gods. That would have made it even worse in their eyes.”

  “Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

  “A true Hothian would have fought him off,” the girl said bitterly. “They would have expected me to defeat him.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I know that you would have done everything you could. It’s not your fault.”

  As she said the words to Zemma, she felt them echo inside her. And she realized that she had been blaming herself as well. As much as she had fought, her opponents had been bigger and stronger, and there was no shame in that.

  There was a sudden clamor in the caves below, and Izzie raced for the entrance. Despite her apparent lack of concern, Zemma was close behind her. As they came out on the balcony, the first thing Izzie saw was a large white-furred body being carried by four other Hothians. Her heart stopped.

  All her doubts suddenly faded away. Of course she wanted to be mated to Baralt—she couldn’t imagine life without him. Please let him be okay.

  “We have to go to him.”

  “Wait, Izzie. It’s not him,” Zemma called after her, and she came to a sudden halt. Another figure had emerged from the tunnel—Baralt! He was carrying one end of a long pole, a second Hothian at the other end, and hanging from the pole was another one of the fish creatures. She had hoped that the image in the bedroom had used some artistic license, but as she stared at the creature, she realized it was astonishingly accurate. At least fifteen feet long, the paxha had a mouth like a piranha, full of spiked teeth, and short vestigial legs in addition to the fins along its sides. She didn’t see any eyes, only clusters of short tentacles crowning its head, and she shuddered. Somehow knowing that it couldn’t see only made it worse.

  Baralt looked up and saw her watching him and waved triumphantly. She longed to go to him and throw herself into his arms, but now that she knew he was all right, she wasn’t sure how he would feel about a public display of affection.

  Her doubts w
ere quickly answered. He marched up the ramp, still carrying the pole over his shoulder and his companion following him, but as soon as he reached her, they lowered the creature carefully to the ground, and he picked her up and whirled her around gleefully.

  “A successful hunt! Are you pleased with my trophy?”

  “I’m pleased that you’re back and that you’re safe.”

  He looked almost disappointed.

  “It’s very large,” she added quickly, and he grinned and kissed her so thoroughly that she was clinging to him when he finally raised his head. Apparently he didn’t have any concerns about public displays of affection.

  The male who had been carrying the other end of the pole nodded at Baralt. “I will send the zuraach. Congratulations on your kill.”

  The male went back down the ramp with Baralt watching him thoughtfully. “As much as I hate to admit it, Njkall was correct. Yesterday, Durgal didn’t want to speak to me. Today he helped me bring the paxha home.”

  He spoke lightly, but Izzie could see his relief. He wanted to be accepted by his tribe.

  “What are you going to do with that thing?”

  “The zuraach will come to create the image—and then we feast.”

  “You’re going to eat it?” she asked doubtfully.

  “We are going to eat it. It would be wasteful not to make use of the kill.”

  “A very fine specimen, my brother. We will eat well tonight.” Zemma had been examining the creature, and she looked up now and grinned. “Are you inviting your admirers?”

  A brief, fierce spike of jealousy speared through Izzie until she realized that Zemma was pointing at a collection of Hothian males still gathered at the entrance to the deeper caves. They were talking excitedly and gesturing up at where Baralt was standing. He sighed.

  “They are young and foolish, easily swayed to hero worship, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. We will invite everyone on the hunt, plus Njkall and the other Elders. And Zeeja’s family, of course.”

  “I don’t want them.”