by Tracy Lauren
Alien Bond
Tracy Lauren
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Excerpt from TAMED BY THE TROLL
© 2019 Tracy Lauren
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Created with Vellum
Chapter 1
Mire
My boots stick in the thick mud as I trudge through weather-ravaged fields. Nearby Tennir and the human female named Clark argue about how to best maintain the community’s crops. One pushes for something called a “French drain” and the other wants to preserve the natural ecosystem. I do not care what choice they make as long as it helps ensure a plentiful crop for the community.
I pull another branch from the mud and toss it into our cart. This is the third one Gile and I have filled this morning. The fields here in Beacon are vast and there are not many males to help complete such a massive task.
“We should invite the humans to join us,” Gile says thoughtfully. Working beside me, my brother haphazardly tosses a large frond in the direction of our cart. He misses and it lands with a splat in the wet soil, sending a spray of mud across my legs.
“They should not have to do such intensive labor. That is why we are still here,” I remind him with a frown.
“We are here to be members of this community, brother. To build our own lives,” he says proudly. “In a thousand years, no other Sovolians have been given such a gift.” Gile marvels at the thought…and I grunt in response. He ignores me though and opts instead to continue talking. Such is his way.
“Besides, the humans are heartier than one might think,” he adds. “They could easily help. Plus, they’d make much better company than you.”
I bite back a chuckle. So he does notice my sour mood. I’d argue with him, just for the sake of arguing, but I know what he says to be true. Having our lives in upheaval has set me on edge—more so than normal. For a long time Gile and I had a comfortable arrangement, but ever since our path led us here, things have been in constant flux.
We came to Elysia to aid our boss, Gorrard. Gorrard, who has been the impetus for change more than once in our lives. Years ago he won us from our last master in a game of tilt. But he had no interest in keeping slaves. Instead, he offered us our freedom and a job to go along with it—a paying one. It was unheard of. Sovolians like Gile and me, we’re bred to be bodyguards, assassins, militants. More specifically, we’re bred to be slaves. And yet we found ourselves, the first Sovolians in hundreds of years, free men.
I was doubtful at first, but soon came to realize the change was not so drastic. We still had a leader, someone who could set the parameters of our missions. And the missions were good ones. We were no longer forced to carry out the ill deeds of evil masters. Instead, we protected people, we kept peace, and we helped search for Gorrard’s people. It was a good life. Then finally, Gorrard found what he was looking for. Or they found him. The remaining Vendari were located and it brought us here to Elysia. And even that was good at first.
Since we’ve been here, we continue to protect those in need, we utilize our strength to build up this new world, we hunt to feed the women, and go on regular supply runs for the village. Our services are required. But our leader, Gorrard…he Awakened to his mate and ever since it has felt like Gile and I are flying with no pilot on the bridge.
My brother and I are alone now. I am not used to having so much freedom. And while I do not miss being a slave, I miss the leader we had in Gorrard. Without him I feel we are lost.
Gile is right about this place though. We are needed here. And until the rest of the Grey King’s people are found, they could use our protection—especially with all the women that keep turning up. Human females are coveted slaves and it is not in me to allow them to be preyed upon.
Sovolians are a fiercely loyal race, made even more so by our people’s history. When we are bound to a master, we protect them with our lives. And while we have no master here, we have something else…something more akin to family. This place is ours to protect. And even though I am wary to interact with the others in the village, being a part of this world gives me some semblance of purpose. I think it is the same for Gile. Though, I know he wishes to socialize with the others more. He has even been pressing for us to move into the village. The thought makes me anxious however.
“You are getting mud everywhere,” I complain.
He snorts at me. “I did not cause endless weeks of rain. There might be mud everywhere, but I assure you, brother, I had nothing to do with it.” He waves another frond emphatically at me as he speaks and mud splatters across my face. I’m wiping away the mess when Holly calls out to us.
“Hey! Looks like you boys are having fun,” she says as she approaches.
“Even more now that you are here, little sister,” Gile tells her.
I grunt again and continue working on the field, knowing that Gile will talk Holly’s ear off for as long as she will let him. At least one of us should be making progress on our weathered crops.
“Where is your mate today?” Gile asks her cheerfully. I like Holly well enough. More than most of the humans, I suppose. Though to be fair, she is the only one I have ever spoken to and that is likely due to the fact that she is so very persistent.
“He had some things to check on, but he’ll be catching up soon,” she says, motioning to Gorrard in the distance.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. Holly recently shared with us that she is with child and she smiles at the reminder. I know I try to keep most people at a distance, but already when I think of the baby, I imagine a niece or nephew in them—someone I can eventually take shooting or teach space flight to.
“I’m good, just really looking forward to actually looking pregnant,” Holly beams.
“Yes!” Gile agrees. “I look forward to seeing you with a fat belly.”
“Gile!” she says shrilly.
“Will that not be something? Little Holly with a big round belly. Do you think there is more than one baby in there?” he asks.
“Jeez, Gile. Lord help the woman you end up with,” Holly reprimands good-naturedly, shaking her head.
“You can imagine me with a mate?” he asks, his smile growing wide. And while Gile puffs out his chest with pride, I bristle at the suggestion. “Who in this village would you choose for me, little sister?” Something about the way he asks makes me think that this is not
the first time he has considered such a thing.
Holly laughs at the thought, but I can see her mind working to puzzle out who would make the best mate for my brother.
“Is that why you wish to remain here?” I growl the question low, so that only Gile may hear. While the idea of having a mate is foreign, I still find that the image of one human in particular comes to mind. Melanie, or Mel as the other humans call her. I was secretly her Santa during the human Christmas. I don’t know her well, but since the moment we rescued her from the rogue UPC vessel I have felt a certain interest in her.
At first, I attributed my fascination to her coloring. She has a golden tone to her hair and skin that makes her look vaguely Sovolian. But it is her eyes that have ensnared me. They are pools of crystal blue. There is not a Sovolian in all the galaxy with such eyes. No, those are uniquely Mel. And though her eyes are bright in color, there is something in them that makes me feel a kinship with the woman—a certain strength…and a certain sadness.
Gile shrugs. “We are free men. We can live our lives any way we choose.” I notice his answer is noncommittal and I wonder if there is a female he has already staked out. I frown at the thought, but Gile must sense my discomfort because he is quick to turn the conversation. “Besides, you already know why I wish to remain here.”
Safety for the humans. Protection. Loyalty. Those are the reasons we have discussed. Not mates.
“Have you guys made any new friends lately?” Holly asks, looking protective in her own way. I know she thinks we are lonely, living out in the shipyard by ourselves. “Not necessarily prospective mates, but have you spent any time talking with the others?”
This is not a new topic. Holly frets over our isolation and I know she agrees with Gile on the topic of our place here. Holly believes Beacon should be our home, not just our current job. But I wonder if Sovolians can ever have a home after what our people have been through? I don’t answer her and instead focus on adding more stray branches and wilting palm fronds to the pile in our cart. Still, I can feel Gile’s eyes on me.
“You may talk to the humans, my permission is not a requirement,” I say without looking at my friends.
“We should talk to the humans,” he urges. “These are our people now, Mire, our family.”
“The fact that I haven’t made friends doesn’t mean I don’t recognize this. Do what pleases you and allow me to do the same. Talk to them, make friends. I do not care.”
“Perhaps I will today then, after we are done here in the fields.”
“Oh, today might not be good timing,” Holly points out.
“Dashing my hopes so soon, little sister?” Gile teases.
“It’s just that today is the weekly support group,” she explains apologetically.
“What is a support group?”
“It’s a gathering where everyone can discuss the things that trouble them—their struggles and stuff. I don’t really know too much about it. It’s new. Still, I’m kind of ashamed to say I haven’t been to any of the meetings. I’ve just been so happy because of Gorrard and the baby, I don’t feel like I need it like the others do.”
“Perhaps I will go to this support group,” Gile suggests thoughtfully.
“Oh, I don’t know, Gile. It’s really for people who have issues to work through.” Holly’s tone is cautious.
“I understand this,” Gile is quick to say.
Still, Holly looks unsure. “A support group is a serious thing, you’d offend people if you didn’t treat it that way,” she presses.
“Holly, you wound me! I am giving you the truth when I say I would like to go. I am a member of this community, am I not? I have just as much right to be there as the others and likely just as many issues,” Gile says with a sly smile and a wink.
“I won’t argue with that,” she laughs.
“Then it is settled. I will go to this support group,” he announces proudly.
“Cool.” She nods appreciatively, looking impressed with my brother. “I didn’t know you’d be into that kind of thing, but I’m glad to hear you are. If you feel like you need it, you should definitely go.”
“Perhaps you should go too, brother?” Gile suggests.
I groan in response.
“What do you have against humans anyway?” Holly demands, hands on her hips.
“My mate looks angry—which one of you is bothering her?” Gorrard growls sternly as he approaches us. Though his words sound harsh, his eyes are mirthful and he keeps them locked onto his Holly.
“You have it backwards, brother. It is Holly and Gile who are bothering me,” I tell him.
“Everyone bothers you, Mire,” Gorrard points out, still focused on Holly. He wraps his arms around her still-small human waist and whispers something into her ear, causing her smile to widen and her cheeks to flush.
“That is not true,” I say under my breath, moving farther along the field. Holly and Gorrard are too lost in their intimate whispers to notice my distance, but Gile follows close behind, tethered to me by some instinctual force. But his mind is elsewhere…on his own troubles perhaps.
It is not that the humans bother me. None of them bother me. Hell, I have bound myself to them. They are my family. I simply do not like to be close to so many people. Opening up…it leaves you vulnerable. It makes it so you have more to lose. And I just don’t think I can take any more loss. So I keep my distance and focus on protecting the people here and the home we are working to build. That way, if it all comes crumbling down, it won’t take me with it.
Chapter 2
Mel
A ferocious growl echoes throughout the courtyard. Most of the women milling about don’t even bother looking up. But I do. I’m a masochist like that.
Gorrard, just back from the fields, scoops his mate into his arms, kissing her passionately. He’s a massive beast, like all of the Vendari are. At first they were frightening to behold, some of the girls even thought they looked devilish or demonic. Though I’ve always thought they resembled the gothic gargoyles from Earth—both in appearance and in their nature. They’re grey and stony beasts, watchful and protective…and stupid sexy, did I mention that part yet? Because it’s definitely one of their stand-out qualities. Hell, all of the aliens here are… Two in particular. I glance around the courtyard, but the Sovolians are still nowhere to be seen.
Holly lets out some wild noise that’s 50 percent laugh, 50 percent scream, and 100 percent joy. I watch as she wraps her legs around Gorrard’s waist and they fumble into their room along the corridor, pressing frantic kisses to each other’s lips and slamming the door behind them. Even still, we can hear Holly’s squealing laughter continuing inside.
“Stupid, happy motherfuckers,” Reagan says beside me.
“Yup. Happiness—or the lack thereof—seems to be the topic of the day around here,” I agree, nudging her elbow.
Reagan’s comment isn’t bitter…it’s just observant. Okay, maybe it’s a little bitter. And part of me shares the emotion, though I’m loath to admit it. I’m happy for Gorrard and Holly. I really am. I just want to be happy too, whatever that means. And part of me just wants to get laid.
I shake pompaya bits off my slimy hands and squint into the sunlight. Now that the rainy season has passed, we’ve moved the long table back out into the courtyard and pushed it up close to the central fountain—the one with the half-decayed sculpture of a bird woman standing proudly in the center.
Even though the rain is gone, the world is still trying to figure out what to do with all the leftover moisture. The entire village still looks wet and I consider us lucky that the courtyard is cobbled, otherwise the mud problem would be unmanageable.
Our village had been hit with endless rain since our arrival and only recently the clouds finally parted and the sun began to shine through. Looking around today, one can hardly tell what a dark few months it has been. Now, the day is bright and the temperature is perfect, not at all humid like the original girls assure me it will
become once the season progresses. That’s a rainforest for you, I suppose.
Overall this planet, Elysia, is stunning. It’s like an exotic location you’d only see on a calendar and never in real life. It’s that and more, because it’s not just some surreal vacation spot, it’s an entire freaking alien world. Hell, we’ve made our home in an honest-to-goodness ancient temple and at night there are multiple moons dotting the sky. The courtyard is lined with fountains and the sound of water flowing through them is dreamy. The plant life here is monstrous in proportion and practically magical in appearance. Most of the surrounding rocky slopes have crystalline inclusions throughout them, which gives the world a fairy-land type of feel. And there are all sorts of happy forest creatures running around, chirping their butts off. Looking at the couples in love, you’d think this was some kind of fairy tale.
But it isn’t. This is our lives now. We were abducted by aliens and sold as sex slaves. Luckily, we were rescued and brought to this world as refugees. But the question is, now what? What does one do with themselves after all that? How do you build a new life on a world you were never meant for in the first place?
Inwardly I chide myself for my morose thoughts. I’m not a slave. This place is lovely. On top of all that, my good friend Holly is in love. I should be happy. I am happy…I think. At least I’m not depressed anymore, lost in my grief. I’m ready to move on, to find my own place in this new life. But there’s an ugly little voice in my head that keeps weighing me down. I can still hear Gary, his once loving voice harsh and filled with judgment, “When are you going to choose happiness, Mel?”
