by Tana Stone
Kos met her gaze down the aisle, and his face broke into a smile. Even from across the room, Hope could see his eyes glistening.
“You need to start walking, hon,” Reina whispered, poking her head out from behind the door.
“Right. Sorry. Thanks for everything.” Hope blew a kiss at Reina, who promptly burst into tears.
Hope started walking down the aisle, the music drowning out the sound of Reina’s sobbing behind her. Even though the room was filled with guests—lots of Drexian warriors she knew were friends of her fiancé, along with a decent number of human women who were obviously tribute brides, and even Vexlings and Gatazoids she guessed must be other wedding planners and liaisons—she kept her gaze locked on Kos. As long as she focused on him, the crowd of strangers looking at her didn’t make her nervous. When he held her gaze with his gray eyes, everything else disappeared.
Hope reached the front of the aisle and took his hand, and heat pulsed through her from his touch.
“You look beautiful, cinnara,” he whispered.
“You too,” she said, with a trembling giggle.
Deep throat clearing made them both look forward. She hadn’t realized until that moment that Captain Varden was performing their ceremony, but she smiled when she saw the distinguished Drexian standing in front of them.
“Shall we?” he asked, his smile warm.
Kos and Hope looked at each other, and he squeezed her hand.
“Hell, yeah,” she said.
Epilogue
Captain Brok stalked along the metal corridor of the Inferno Force ship, his thick-soled boots pounding on the floor as he made his way to the bridge. His ship smelled of stale booze and sweat, even more so since they’d been flying for a while without stopping for his men to disembark and let off steam. There was no time for that now. Not when they were on a mission.
Moisture still beaded on his temple from his workout in the gym, and his muscles twitched from being pushed to their limits. He scraped a hand through his long, dark hair as he reached the bridge, and his officers turned, thumping their fists on their chests in salute.
He returned their salute quickly, catching the eye of his first officer before he turned back to his console. “Report.”
“We heard from our sister ship, but the Pregarian outpost was a dead end.”
Brok grunted as he began to pace across the back of the bridge. He looked out the wide glass fronting the bridge; nothing but the vast blackness of space as they searched for the missing tribute brides and the Gatazoid wedding planner. It had been weeks since they started the hunt, and so far they’d only found the Vexling and one of the tributes, sending the pretty human back to Drexian space with her mate.
His warriors shifted restlessly at their standing consoles. They were as impatient as he was. Inferno Force was accustomed to battles, not drawn-out searches across a galaxy that seemed endless.
“We will find them,” he said, reassuring himself as much as his warriors. “No one evades Inferno Force forever.”
Low murmurs of agreement did nothing to make him feel better. He strode to the back of the bridge, touching a hand to the transparent, wall-sized star chart and causing it to illuminate. Crossing his thick arms, the captain studied the path they’d taken.
When they’d located the human female being held by the Ganthar pirates, he’d been able to persuade them—aided by an unexpected uprising and prison break within the ship—to reveal the names of the aliens the other prisoners had been sold to. Unfortunately, he’d only been given names, and tracking down individuals throughout the galaxy was easier said than done. Especially since the type of individuals to buy slaves from Ganthar pirates weren’t the type to advertise their whereabouts.
He shook his head as he thought back to the outposts they’d checked and all the seedy criminals they’d interrogated. By now, the sector must be buzzing with word that Inferno Force was looking for slaves sold by Ganthar pirates. That would either help flush out the culprits or drive them further underground.
“Doesn’t matter,” Brok muttered to himself. “I’ll find them eventually.”
He never gave up, especially when it came to helping others. It was why he made such a good captain. He had no problem sacrificing himself for the greater good of Inferno Force, and he’d done just that many times in battle. He subconsciously touched the scar that scored one side of his face—a souvenir from a battle against the Kronock in which he’d fought off the enemy to let the other ships escape and barely escaped with his own life.
He had no regrets. It was what Inferno Force did. It was why they were known as the toughest and roughest warriors anywhere in the galaxy. If his scars made him appear frightening, so much the better. The only reason he’d need to be handsome would be if he wanted to take a tribute bride, but he’d never put himself on the list. Inferno Force was his family.
No, it was better for him out on the outskirts of space with his Inferno Force crew. He dropped his hand from the thin scar. He would not subject a pretty, fragile human female to a battle-scarred warrior like him, even if there was one who could look at him without flinching.
“Captain.” Kalex joined him at the star chart, inclining his head briefly before tapping a point on the clear map. “What about the lead we got on Doxvane?”
“From that drunk?” Brok shook his head. “We don’t have any indication that his information wasn’t a whiskey-fueled hallucination.”
“True.” Kalex rocked back on his heels. “But his story never changed. Even when he dried out. A human female and a Gatazoid en route to the planet Spartos.”
The captain squinted at a blue dot on the map. “Spartos hasn’t had contact with other species in generations. They’re famously xenophobic. Why would they suddenly be buying slaves from pirates?”
“I agree it doesn’t make sense, but remember that our source said the Spartosians didn’t make the purchase themselves. They bought the human and Gatazoid through an emissary.”
Brok let out a breath. He’d been thinking about the bit of intel since they’d interrogated the washed-up drunk. His tip was the only one they’d gotten in a while, but it also seemed the most far-fetched.
“It still doesn’t explain why a planet that makes a point of never interacting with the outside universe would suddenly be buying aliens,” Brok said. “They believe all other species to be inferior. The thought of a human and a Gatazoid even being allowed to set foot on their planet is crazy.”
“Agreed.” Kalex folded his arms over his chest, the thick bands of tattoos flashing from under the sleeve of his black T-shirt. “But what if Spartos has changed? It’s been a millennium since anyone has interacted with them.”
“And you think that change is to suddenly buy alien slaves?”
Kalex shrugged. “It’s the only lead we have. Our other ships are coming up empty, too. It’s like these females have vanished into thin air.”
Brok scowled as he stared at the star chart. The warrior was right. That was exactly how it felt, and Brok’s frustration was growing to the point where he felt he wanted to break something. He glanced down at his raw knuckles. Hence the intense sessions with the punching bag.
The Drexians were responsible for the humans they took from Earth. They’d vowed to protect them, not let them be kidnapped by pirates and then sold into who knew what kind of situation. His stomach clenched as he thought of how long the females had been missing.
“You are right,” he said. “We have to pursue it, even if it’s another dead end.”
“Shall I set a course for Spartos?” Kalex asked, his eyes sparking with anticipation.
Captain Brok gave him a curt nod, and the warrior spun on his heel and returned to his post.
“Setting a course for Spartos,” Kalex bellowed behind him.
The other warriors shouted their agreement, pounding their feet on the floor and making the bridge shake. Brok tried to share in their excitement, but a hard knot had settled in his gut.
/> Even if Spartos did have the prisoners, how would they get them back? The planet did not allow aliens to enter their atmosphere, and there was no diplomat to send their request to. If they found the human and Gatazoid, they would have to track them down using stealth and sneak them out without being seen. He knew from experience this was easier said than done.
It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. The human female and Gatazoid were under Drexian protection, and it was his sworn duty to find them. He would not fail. He never failed.
Clenching his fists, he pivoted to face the front of the bridge. His chest swelled with pride as he looked across at the Inferno Force warriors faithfully manning their posts—his family. Their hair was longer than most Drexians wore it, they had considerably more ink than other Drexians, and most boasted considerably more scars. He had served with some of these warriors since he’d assumed command and he thought of them as brothers. The brothers he’d never had in his own family.
There had been much he had not had in his family growing up. Not after his father had been injured in battle. Instead of dying a warrior’s death, he had not succumbed to his injures. He had lingered, wasting away slowly. Brok had become the leader of the family when he was only ten solar rotations, and he had been taking care of family ever since.
He swallowed the bitter taste of bile that always rose in his throat when he thought of his family. They were all gone now, but the pain lingered. The pain that he had not been able to save them no matter how hard he’d tried.
His fingers bit into his palms. He had not failed since. Not after joining Inferno Force. And he would not fail now.
“I will find you,” he whispered, envisioning the image of the human they were tracking.
His crew had been shown the images of all the missing tribute brides, and he knew the pictures of the pretty females had served to motivate his warriors. He suspected some imagined taking one of them for themselves, although no one knew if the remaining females were already matched or not. That knowledge wouldn’t stop his warriors from envisioning themselves with the humans. He suspected the mental images had kept many of the Drexians company in their racks at night, and he could not fault them for it, even though jealousy coursed through him if he thought about any other Drexian thinking about her.
He knew she wasn’t his, but he needed to keep the female they were searching for in his mind, so he knew who he was fighting for. That wasn’t hard, since the female’s dark eyes had seemed to burn into his soul the moment he’d seen them.
The female that the pirates claimed they’d sold along with the Gatazoid was the smallest of the females—the runt, they called her. But Brok couldn’t stop thinking about her dark hair, golden skin, and slightly upturned eyes—the combination something he’d never seen before. Although, as the captain of an Inferno Force ship who’d never been to the Boat, he hadn’t seen many humans and didn’t have much to compare her to. Still, he’d found her picture mesmerizing.
Brok repeated her name in his mind, finally saying it under his breath, almost as if it were a prayer. “Madeleine.”
None of his warriors heard him. They were too focused on setting their new course, the computers beeping as they tapped fingers across their consoles. The captain steadied his breathing as he thought about her, his pulse quickening and his cock swelling, despite his best efforts.
He knew his desire was a distraction he couldn’t afford, but he had been unable to rid himself of it no matter how much time he spent with the punching bag. It was not as if the human would ever want a scarred creature like him. He would never expect her to. Not when there were hundreds of perfect, handsome Drexians waiting for a bride. It didn’t matter, he told himself, pushing aside his arousal.
He would find Madeleine, and he would take her back to the Boat. That was his job, and he would do it.
A muscle ticked on the side of his jaw as he tried not to think about what would happen next. That wasn’t his concern. She wasn’t his tribute bride. She was only his to save.
And he would save her. No matter the cost.
Thank you for reading Hope and Kos’s story! Up next for the Drexian Warriors? Captain Brok’s story in SCARRED, book 10 of the Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors series. Coming June 2020!
Want to read about some sexy alien barbarians while you wait? You’ll love BOUNTY, the first book in Tana Stone’s Barbarians of the Sand Planet series.
After crash-landing in an unfamiliar desert, human Danica is rescued by gorgeous, telepathic alien K’alvek. And while he vows to help her bounty hunter crew escape the hostile planet, he can’t subdue his burning desire to claim his new charge.
One-click BOUNTY Now>
“This was excellent! I could not put it down. The world building is amazing and the characters are likable and as always Tana knows how to make it super steamy.”-Amazon Reviewer
This book has been edited and proofed, but typos are like little gremlins that like to sneak in when we’re not looking. If you spot a typo, please report it to: [email protected]
Thank you!!
Preview of BOUNTY—Barbarians of the Sand Planet #1
Below is a sample of another Tana Stone sci-fi-romance series—this one with alien barbarians and female bounty hunters!
Chapter One
“Are they shooting at us?" Danica asked, grabbing the edge of a smooth, metal console as she stepped onto the bridge and the ship heaved to one side. She tasted blood as she bit the inside of her mouth, and flinched from the pain. Son of a bitch.
She and Bexli had just brought their latest captive onboard, and she’d given the order to take off, hoping the rival bounty hunters who'd also been in pursuit hadn't seen them. From the staccato sounds of gunfire, she guessed that her plan of slipping out unnoticed was shot to hell.
She took in the familiar sight of the compact bridge—a round, flat panel console in the center of the room with view screens suspended above it, smaller individual consoles forming a half moon around the main one, and a final ring of screened consoles against the circular walls. A long, narrow slit of a window gave them a view out the front of the ship, but had a steel shade they could lower for security. Nearly every part of the room was composed of metal that was long past gleaming, and looked nearly black with age and grime. Wires spilled from underneath most of the consoles, a result of various hacks and patches to keep the aging space ship running. Danica inhaled the scent of burning fuel that seemed to permeate the ship, and felt a rush of affection for the bucket of bolts she'd practically grown up on.
"Looks like it," her pilot, Caro, said turning from one of the smaller consoles where she navigated the ship, her straight, nearly black hair flying behind her as she spun back around. "And we're definitely outgunned."
"Can we outrun them?" Danica asked, as she made her way down to the center console and looked out at the massive ship blocking their escape.
"What we don't have in size or gun power, we make up for in maneuverability," Caro said. "I should be able to get a little extra acceleration from our impulse drives if I boost the—"
“Caro,” Danica said, cutting off the woman before she launched into an overly detailed explanation of their engine.
“Sorry, Captain,” Caro said spinning back around to her console. “On it.”
"I hope you're right," Tori said from where she stood at the weapons console along the wall, her curly, dark hair pulled up in a topknot and held in place with what looked like metal chopsticks with dangerously sharp ends—almost as sharp as her pointy teeth. A row of hard, raised bumps ran above her eyebrows, down along the sides of her face and disappeared into her hairline—a hallmark of the Zevrians—making her look even fiercer than she was. "Because we're running low on weapons."
"How low?" Danica gripped the console with both hands as the ship jerked to the right and skirted underneath the larger ship.
"How good are you at hand-to-hand combat?" Tori asked, her brown, muscled arms braced against the wall.
"I thought we were supposed to stock up when we were docked at Centuri Twelve," Danica shouted over the roar of the engines firing.
"I would have, if we had anything to buy them with," Tori said as the ship accelerated.
Danica sighed. Her crew had been running on fumes—sometimes literally—for weeks. "I know it's been tight, but once we turn over this bounty, we'll be flush for a while."
"I'm just glad Mourad won't have the satisfaction of beating us." Caro turned to face forward as the force of acceleration pressed her back into her chair. "I hate that guy."
Danica couldn't agree more. The ship shooting at them belonged to a bounty hunter and mercenary named Mourad, who didn't believe in female bounty hunters and didn't believe in playing fair. Not that Danica was against stretching the rules or pushing her luck, but Mourad had no limits on what he and his crew would do to capture a bounty.
He was the one bounty hunter her father had gone out of his way to avoid, because Mourad ignored all the usual professional courtesies and accepted practices. He would double-cross anyone. Instead of tracking down bounties himself, he was known for waiting until another bounty hunter did all the legwork, then he and his band of mercenaries would swoop in and snake the bounty. Just like he was trying to do now.
Over my dead body, Danica thought, as their ship broke through the atmosphere and shot into space, the sky going from hazy yellow to inky blue to black. She thumped the side of the console, mentally thanking the ship for getting her out of yet another scrape.
When her father died, he'd left everything to her, which meant basically his ship. It had just been the three of them for as long as Danica could remember—her and her father and the ship. Different crews had come and gone, but the ship had been the only constant in their lives, aside from each other. She'd thought about selling it, but only for a moment. The old ship was as much a part of her as her father had been, and she couldn't stand the thought of losing both of them.
