by Renee Rose
Claimed by the Zandian
Renee Rose
Rebel West
Burning Desires
Copyright © October 2019 Kept by the Zandian by Renee Rose and Rebel West
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published in the United States of America
Renee Rose Romance
Editor: Maggie Ryan
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
From the Authors
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About Renee Rose
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Other Titles by Renee Rose
About Rebel West
Excerpt from Conquered by the Alien Prince
Chapter 1
Zina
I bend down and pull the child who is like my own into a hug. “Don’t cry. It’s okay, sweetling.” She wraps her arms around my waist and snuffles, the loose hairs from her newly-cut hair tickling my chin. “It keeps you safer.”
A pang of concern pierces my chest as I hug her. She hardly ever cries. My bad leg twinges, and I shift to alleviate the shooting pain along my nerve. All the walking lately has it irritated and swollen.
An evening mari bird cries overhead, and I look up to scan the sky. “We have to get back.” I gently let her go, then push her dark locks and my auburn ones into the shallow hole I’ve dug in the fallow field with my boot. Some dirt and rocks will hide them from notice.
“I’m sorry, Enya.” I slide the sharpened rock, the one I used as a knife, into my pocket. “You know your pretty hair attracts too much Ocretion male attention. Better to keep it like this.” I run a hand over her stubbly ends. “Always wear your hood up. And keep doing the mud thing on your skin just a little bit. Not too much.” I stretch my calf by planting my foot on the ground and leaning forward: sometimes this helps.
She sniffs. “It’s not the hair I care about. It’s... what happens next?”
I dragged her out here for a fresh cut because I saw some of the guards leering at her. She’s only nine solar cycles, but that won’t stop the monsters from using her body for pleasure if they can find a way to do it without Master finding out.
I squeeze her to me, her bony shoulders as familiar to me as my own hand, wishing I could magically transport the both of us out of this hellhole. Somewhere safe, and kind, where human females aren’t used for labor and sex and any other usage the Ocretions dream up.
“Master re-approved me as your guardian through the end of this solar cycle.” I force a positive lilt into my voice. “So that’s good.” The child has been my apprentice for house-chores for the master since she was only four solar cycles. I’m often given the younger slaves to mind and train since my work is more flexible than other slaves’.
She raises her head and her green eyes, shot through with fine red lace, gleam with moisture. She’s a beautiful girl—devastatingly beautiful, with dark hair, pale skin and big green eyes. The dimples and bowtie lips helped when she was younger—even the horrid Ocretions found her cute for a human. But now, it’s what concerns me.
“When the time is up?” Her smaller hands clutch at me, as if holding me close like this could ensure safety. “In less than three solar cycles I’ll be of age.”
“I do not know.” I swallow hard. “Not for sure.”
I do know.
Once she’s twelve solar cycles, she will be eligible, per Ocretion rules, for auction on the free market. And we both know what she’ll be bought for—breeding or pleasure. Worse than that, though, we’ll be separated. And we’ve become family, she and I.
Master might keep her, of course—as a house slave, like me, who raises other slave young and does cleaning and household chores. He could sell her to an ag farm, to harvest produce.
But I’ve overheard him talking to other Ocretions about how young virgin humans have fetched great amounts of stein, even those not trained for sex. Especially those not trained for sex. He’s bragged about having the highest number of young humans who will approach maturity in time for the next auction. Enya will probably be one of them when she reaches twelve. And she’s too smart for me to hide that from her.
“They’ll take me away to somewhere worse.” Her voice hitches. “And all I want is...” she trails off.
Her next words chill my heart. “Every time I hope for something, or love something, it gets taken away. Sometimes? I think maybe it’s not worth it anymore.”
This child is not my own, yet I love her no less than if she were my flesh and blood. I’ve raised her since she was bought from a slave breeder as a tot.
“We’ll find a way to stay together,” I promise her, even though I can’t imagine what that might be. I have to do whatever it takes. “Or I’ll make sure you go somewhere decent.”
I press her slender body into mine. I’m relatively safe from trading—with my enforced sterility via implants, and my permanently injured leg, I’m not worth much at trade.
But she has a chance, if I can figure out a way to get her to a better place. “Don’t say that.” My tone is rough. “Humans don’t give up. Enya, somewhere out there, out in the stars, your mother and your siblings are thinking of you.”
If they’re not dead. They’ve probably perished long ago. We will never know. That is part of the pain of being a human in this galaxy.
“I don’t know.” Her voice is listless.
“We will figure something out,” I promise her, stifling my own tears. “We are smart, and strong. Believe that in your heart. Do it for me.”
She nods and goes quiet, and we stand like that for a while, with the breeze blowing against us and the setting suns sparkling overhead, deceptively lovely as they shine on this planet full of cruelty. But we cannot linger; I’m due at the barracks for night check-in.
It was challenging to even get this assignment, bringing supplies to the farm workers. It allowed me a short window to sneak her away for our clandestine haircuts.
“If anyone asks about the hair, just say we were infected with wheat lice as we walked through the fields near the woods, and it needed to be cut.”
I’ve used that excuse once already. Nobody cares much about me, but Master is starting to keep stricter tabs on Enya. This may be the last time I can get away with hiding her beauty.
/> “I wish we could use that cutting rock to kill Master.”
“I do too. But we cannot.” I’ve thought about it incessantly, but even if we managed it, there would be nowhere to go. Slaves who harm Ocretions here are either sentenced to death or brutally punished. “We must find a way to get you out of here.”
She shrugs, so I make my tone insistent.
“Mother Earth willing, we will find a way.” I step away from her and take her hand. “We have three solar cycles. Just stay strong a little longer.”
She allows the grip, but is silent on the way back, her head down. It takes all of my best songs and cheerful talk to get her to maintain some semblance of normalcy—sulky faces and tearful voices, Master always says, are not appropriate for humans, and can warrant painful shock punishments until we better appreciate the “luxuries” we are granted.
So far, I’ve managed to shield Enya from this, but the older she gets, and the more she catches Master’s eye… well, I won't be able to protect her much longer.
All my life, I’ve loved caring for young, and dreamt of having my own. All the young I’ve raised have been taken from me—moved onto other jobs or sold off. I don’t want to lose Enya now, too.
I can’t lose her.
Tarek
“Have you been paralyzed? You’re moving slowly.” I punch Captain Drayk on the shoulder.
My fist connects perfectly with his sinews, even though I can’t see with my eyes.
“Just trying to maintain a pace that you can handle,” he snorts, ignoring my fist.
“Your gear ready?”
I sense the air move as he shifts his head in a nod, and my audio-visual transponder sends the movement signals to my brain to interpret. I step back to his side, knowing exactly where and when he changes position, based on the aural sound wave feedback.
“Status 100 percent complete.” I turn and point to the nav deck on the starship. “Systems have been upgraded and I’m linked in. We’re good to go.”
“Excellent.”
I close my eyes and focus. It takes only a split second before I sense the signals in my mind. I don’t see things the way other beings do, but I sense them—their depth, width, height. I understand the rotational dynamics of approaching asteroids and analyze their trajectory in a heartbeat to avoid them. It’s all because of the tech Dr. Daneth implanted into my brain, the advances that meld silicon and electricity with my own biology to allow me to accomplish nav tasks that even sighted Zandians cannot. Too bad I can’t hold my own in combat, though.
I force that last thought out of my mind. “I know this will be a treacherous journey. I am fully prepared.”
“Good.” He stands taller; I can tell because his signal in my comm expands. I know this is a sign of confidence. I’m proud of being so helpful. As a disabled Zandian, I’m glad I’m able to contribute to society in a critical way.
“This will be a risky op, not just in getting there. Once on-planet, it will not be a simple extraction.” His voice is somber.
We are silent for a second. “This is the elder of the two, correct?” I clear my throat.
“Yes. We located her using the discs we obtained on the last mission. King Zander said we have a short window of opportunity to rescue her during the upcoming slave auction.”
“You’re going to bid on her?” I frown. Even though I cannot see, I automatically make the same expressions as others, I’ve been told. I certainly feel how my face reacts to different inputs.
“No. Zandians cannot attend auctions right now where Ocretions are present—too dangerous. We’ll steal her from the being who purchases her.”
“Definitely risky.”
“Word has it that she’ll be sold at the auction on Marall-9. Typical bidders include other Ocretions and various species. Marall-9 is a lawless planet—it’s why they choose it for such auctions. The females are often not yet of maturity, yet they sell them as sex slaves anyway.”
I shudder. “Our galaxy has such ugliness. Stars willing, we will save this one.”
“Yes.” His voice is pensive. “It’s known that slave buyers on Marall-9 need to bring heavy protection for their purchases because theft is common. We will use disguises as we steal the human. Although they won’t trick Ocretions up close for long, in a short scuffle we can mask ourselves as other beings.”
“I have the star charts memorized.” I tap my head. “In a combination of my own mind and the silicon addition. You should all get it done.” I chuckle.
“I thought Dr. Daneth said it was still too new for the general population?” He laughs. “If it were that easy, we’d all be doing it. Imagine what our warriors could do with sight and your brain tech.”
“Yeah.” I wince, remembering how the operation had affected my nerves. How I couldn’t walk for nearly a solar cycle—and fought my way back from paralysis with painful therapy. Each planet rotation a nightmare of doubt. “Too soon to risk that kind of operation on Zandians who weren’t useless to start. I was a throw-away, so it didn’t matter too much, experimenting on me.”
Drayk frowns. I can tell because my sensors indicate his muscles have moved, pulling his lips downward. “I don’t like hearing you speak in such a negative way. It is important for us to be strong and optimistic. Especially before a mission.”
“Just a joke.”
“Was it?” He stares at me.
I turn my head away. “I’m ready for the mission.”
“Excellent.” He swivels and the displaced air shows me the volume of his form and where it has moved. “The rest of the crew are boarding as we speak. Prepare the nav stats.”
“Yes, Captain.” He’s my best friend, but on missions he’s my boss, and as a Zandian, I give him the full respect of his rank. “Stand by for orders.”
Chapter 2
Zina
“No! Zina!”
I wake abruptly at the scream that rings out through our slave barracks. For a split second I think Enya is having a nightmare—until brutal floodlights pierce the pitch black of our sleeping quarters.
“That one, there, the young human with the black hair. Take her. Barcode 55497.” It’s Ocretion guards. And they’re pointing at Enya.
“Ah, I’d recognize that one without any digits. I’d buy her myself if I had the stein.” A stinking guard leers at her and she shrinks back, whimpering in terror.
I leap to my feet, blinking and wincing at the lights that flash and bob in my eyes, and wrap my arms around the girl beside me, whose entire body trembles with fear. “Zina, don’t let them take me,” she whisper-sobs, gripping me tightly.
The Ocretion guards approach us, shock sticks sparkling, blue electricity dancing at the metal tips. I turn my body and clench my muscles, hoping to shield Enya from the pain.
But it doesn’t come, not this time.
“Wait. Master said no damage,” a harsh voice rings out.
I peer over my shoulder to see. Enya buries her head in my neck.
An overseer raises his hand. “There will be a steep price for any being who puts a single bruise on the young. She is expected to fetch top stein at the auction and must be in perfect condition.”
“No!” I clench my fists. “It’s a mistake. She’s not even of age for auction. She is but nine solar cycles!”
“He’s found a place that auctions them younger,” the guard snarls.
I stand defiant. “Master approved me to continue being her guardian while we both work house duty for the next solar cycle.” Enya whimpers and pushes into me, and I automatically grip her with my arm as tightly as I can. “She’s just a young. Leave her alone.”
“That is not your jurisdiction.” The closest guard snarls and raises his stick, but one look from the overseer has him stepping back, albeit with reluctance.
“Take the nanny as well. We’ll dispose of her later as necessary.” The overseer frowns, assessing me and then looking to the door. “Just get the girl to auction.”
“Why don’t we just
tranq them?” The angry guard touches his waist holster.
“Do you have ears? The master said pristine. He hardly wants a drooling, droopy flop-doll at auction. Buyers like to see tears and alert fear.” He laughs.
The guards grab us both, me and Enya, rough—but not damaging.
She covers her own mouth to muffle her screams as we’re loaded into a double-sized crate and the metal grate clangs shut.
“Keep her quiet.” The overseer steps closer and looks me in the eye. “I cannot damage her, but I can certainly hurt you.” He reaches his shock stick through the bars and pokes Enya without powering it up. The girl flinches and cries out in fear, even though there is no electricity. “And you. If you want to spare your keeper a severed finger or two? You shut up. Immediately. And don’t speak again until I tell you.”
Enya goes mute, her eyes huge, brimming with tears.
The overseer and the guards laugh. There is some back slapping and ribald jokes. Discussion about how he’s the best at managing difficult slaves, and that’s why Master favors him.
Then we’re loaded onto a ship, toward a fate worse than death.
And I have no plans.
I’ve cared for Enya on this planet since she was just an infant, taken from her true mother, a breeder, and I love her as much as if she were my own. As a house slave, I have it easier than pleasure slaves or field workers, and I’ve shielded Enya from harm and taught her as much as I can. Together we’ve navigated life as human slaves to Ocretions, and even eked out enjoyment when possible.
