by Tana Stone
Bound
Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors #6
Tana Stone
Broadmoor Books
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
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of JINGLED: A Holiday Novella— Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors #7
Also by Tana Stone
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Shreya came to slowly, straightening her neck and wincing at the ache.
Bloody hell. That’s what she got for sleeping upright in a chair, she thought. As if she’d had much choice. She tugged at her wrists, not needing to look down to know they were bound to the armrests. Wiggling her fingers, she moved blood back into her hands after being immobile for who knew how long.
Blinking a few times, she focused on the dimly lit cockpit. Gray tiles that looked like scales covered the interior, and only a narrow slat of glass stretched in front of her—a reminder that she was in a vessel that was hurtling through space and away from the only home she knew and the only people she considered friends.
She swiveled her head, gradually looking over at the alien sitting in the pilot’s seat. Big and muscular, with bronze skin, he was not a friend. He’d proven that when he’d abducted her from the Drexian ship she was on during a rescue attempt, and had cemented her opinion of him when he’d informed her that she had two choices: mate with him or die.
Shreya barely contained her derisive laugh. This guy was in for a surprise if they thought those were her only two options. She’d survived a tsunami on Earth, which had claimed the rest of her family and had been kidnapped by aliens once before. She’d persevered through both and come out stronger. She’d even managed to carve out a life for herself on the space station the Drexians had brought her to, living with the other human women who’d declined to be mated to one of the hunky Drexian alien warriors. She was considered an “independent,” which suited her just fine. This, she thought, as she shifted in the firm chair, was merely a setback.
Her mind flashed to her friend, Ella, another independent who’d been on the rescue mission with her. She hoped the woman was safe, and the Drexians—who’d gone into the Kronock research facility looking for the hybrid cyborg she was now with—had gotten out unscathed. And, maybe more importantly, she really hoped they were coming after her.
Watching his fingers move across the console, Shreya noticed his one red, cybernetic eye blinking. If she didn’t want to kick him in the balls so badly, she would have loved to be able to study the metal implant that curved around his temple and eye socket. Her field of study was microbiology—at least it had been before she’d been abducted from her university in the UK—but the scientist in her couldn’t help but be curious about the advanced machinery in his head, and how it worked with his biology.
The irony was, she’d been on the Drexian rescue ship to rescue him. He’d been captured by the Kronock and infused with their DNA to make him into a hybrid of the two species. So not only was he given a cybernetic eye like some of the Kronock warriors had, his skin had grown gray scales in uneven patches. She’d studied what they’d done to him from records one of the Drexian warriors had taken from the Kronock and determined that the DNA splicing wasn’t stable. As a matter of fact, she’d been prepping to restore his original DNA when he’d boarded the ship and knocked her out. If the rescue mission had succeeded, he would have been the one tied up, and she would have been helping him regain his Drexian DNA and life.
Unfortunately, the plan had gone sideways. Her friend, Ella, had left the ship to warn the Drexian team about a possible ambush, and somehow the hybrid had eluded them and snuck onto the ship. Now, they were on an enemy ship flying somewhere, and she suspected it was far away from her friends and the Drexian space station.
He swung his head toward her. “You’re awake.”
Shreya shrank back, startled by his sudden movement. Although he sounded mostly Drexian—his deep voice only slightly halting—the pulsing red of his eye reminded her instantly he was not. Not anymore.
“That’s good.” He looked forward again.
She cleared her throat. “Where are you taking me?”
After a moment’s pause, he tapped a star chart on the computer console. “Lymora III.”
“That means nothing to me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m human. We don’t travel to different planets like you guys do.”
He tilted his head at her. “And how do we do?”
“Like you’re driving around the block,” she said. “I’ve heard other Drexians talk about visiting planets like we visit the market.”
“I am not Drexian.”
She didn’t answer. He may have been programmed by the Kronock to think he wasn’t Drexian, but nearly every bit of him—from his chocolate-brown hair to his one sea-green eye, to the raised nodes running down his spine—looked Drexian. It didn’t help his argument that he was shirtless, except for open-sided armor slung over his shoulders, and she could see that his sculpted chest muscles and chiseled abs were covered in skin, not scales.
“So what’s Lymora III?” she asked, deciding to leave the Drexian identity crisis for another time. “A Kronock-occupied planet?”
His fingers hesitated as they hovered over the star chart. “No. I’ve decided not to take you to a Kronock facility.”
She remained quiet, hoping he would want to fill the silence. Nothing. Whether he was Drexian or Kronock, he was clearly the strong, but silent, type.
“Why not?” she finally asked.
He shifted in his chair without looking over. “I do not prefer the lab. It is cold and too bright. Some things should not be done there.”
“Like?”
“I have been tasked with finishing General Krav’s plan.” His voice took on a strange tone, as if he was reading from a script. “I will fulfill my duty, but I will do it my own way.”
“So you’re a rebel,” she said under her breath. “I’ll bet there aren’t many of those among the Kronock.”
He darted a glance at her. “You are not what I expected.”
“No? Am I the first human you’ve ever met?”
“Yes, although I have heard much about your species.” His gaze dropped to her chest for a moment. “You are smaller than I expected.”
“I’m considered petite.” She felt a need to defend herself. “But all humans are smaller than Drexians. Or Kronock.”
“And your skin is a similar shade to mine,” he continued. “I’d heard some Earthlings were so light they looked like the underbelly of a Carthian slug.”
That didn’t sound like a good thing. It hadn’t always been an advantage, but at the
moment, Shreya felt grateful for the warm brown of her skin. Since she’d met aliens with blue, purple, and green skin, the variations in human skin color seemed less significant.
“So you’ve heard all about humans, but have never met one before me?” She remembered hearing something once about the importance of humanizing yourself to a kidnapper. “My name is Shreya.”
There was a long pause before he answered. “I am Vox.”
She didn’t ask if that was his Drexian name, or a new Kronock name he’d been given. “So, you’ve never been to the space station for tribute brides? You’ve never seen the Boat?”
A brusque shake of his head. “Never, but I know that human females are very important to the Drexians.”
“Tell me about it.” Shreya let out a breath. “I heard the whole spiel when I was kidnapped from Earth and brought up to the Boat. Your species stopped producing females, so you were searching for compatible mates and you happened upon Earth. The Kronock were about to invade, but the Drexians made a deal to provide protection in exchange for a small number of women each year. Yadda yadda yadda.” She made a circling gesture with one restrained hand. “That’s how I ended up being taken. Apparently, I’m part of the fifty percent of females who’re compatible. Unfortunately, I had no desire to marry a total stranger, so I declined the offer of becoming a tribute bride.”
His head snapped up. “You are not a tribute bride?”
“Nope. I’m what the others on the station call ‘rejects’ but we call ourselves ‘independents’.”
“I was supposed to capture a tribute bride.”
“Then you might as well let me go,” Shreya said. “I promise you, I’m not one of them.”
He narrowed his one eye at her. “But you are human, and you just told me you are compatible with Drexians, which means you are compatible with me. That is what is most important.”
So much for that.
“You know they’re going to find you,” she said, trying a different tack. “The Drexians won’t let you get away with taking a human, even if I’m not a tribute bride. And my friend, Ella, definitely won’t let it go. They’ll be coming after us.”
“They won’t find you.” He didn’t look over. “I removed your tracker when I knocked you out, so they won’t be able to use that. This is a Kronock ship, not easily traced by Drexians. Plus, I’m taking you somewhere they would never expect to find you.”
Shreya’s stomach tightened. “Is Lymora III some sort of wasteland, where we’ll have to wear gas masks to survive?”
“No.” He flicked his fingers across the console, and the ship begin to decelerate. “It is a pleasure planet on the far outskirts.”
“A pleasure planet?” Her mouth gaped open. “Are you taking me to an alien version of a bordello?”
“I do not know this ‘bordello’, but if it is a place where you can indulge in pleasures of the flesh and engage in any act you can imagine without judgment, then, yes. I am taking you to the roughest and most notorious bordello in the galaxy.” His red eye flickered as he looked at her. “A place the Drexians would never expect.”
Shreya swallowed hard.
Chapter Two
Vox set the ship down carefully, watching the dust kick up around them. His ship was only one of many docking near the capitol city; the planet was as busy as usual. In the distance and through the haze, he saw the outlines of buildings with squared-off roofs, and the occasional mushroom dome. A small, red sun glowed in the sky, its distant rays doing little to cut through the thick atmosphere.
Aliens with cloth wrapped over their faces scurried around on the ground, recording data about his ship in their computerized arm bands, and he recognized them as the native Lymorans. Short, squat creatures with nearly translucent skin and no body hair, they were rarely seen uncovered.
Lymora III didn’t have much to offer as a planet aside from its lack of rules and abundance of pleasure houses—for both males and females. After severe overpopulation centuries ago that depleted its natural resources and sent the plant into climate crisis, the planet had suffered from almost total species collapse. The Lymorans who had survived had learned to live on a planet with an arid climate and virtually no arable land. They’d taken the palaces of the former oligarchs and turned them into pleasure houses, creating a destination with no extradition laws, and no rules against prostitution, gambling, or smuggling.
The corner of Vox’s lip curled up. The Drexian buried deep within him was repulsed by the lawlessness of the place, but he also knew that no one would blink twice at a bound female. Her screams would be ignored, or mistaken for part of a sex game. No one would send word to the Drexians because no one who frequented Lymora III wanted the honorable warrior race descending on the planet.
He rotated his chair to face her. “You may scream when we disembark, but I would prefer you do not. There is no point.” She raised an eyebrow, and he continued. “Lymora III welcomes human trafficking and slave labor, so your cries for help will be ignored, or laughed at. I suggest you do not waste your breath.”
The female glanced out the front of the ship. “Charming.”
“Also, there is no guarantee that your cries wouldn’t awaken the blood lust of a visiting Xakden, and you do not want one of them after you.” He didn’t want to fight off a Xakden in heat, either, although their outrageously engorged phalluses usually slowed them down enough to make it a fair fight. If there were only one of them.
Her golden-brown skin paled. “Blood lust?”
“Do not worry. It is only activated by the sounds of screaming, which is why I suggest you do not do it.”
“Let me get this straight? If I scream I might cause some scary alien to come after me?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s a pretty convenient story for you.”
He shrugged, pulling a pair of blades off the wall behind her and attaching them to his belt. “I am only telling you the truth.” He leaned down so that their faces were only inches apart. “I promise you, human, you are much better off mating with me, than being fucked by a Xakden. With me, you will not be ripped in two.”
She inhaled sharply and her pupils widened. “You don’t scare me.”
He leaned back, studying the tears that filled her eyes. “I think I do, but I am not who you need to be afraid of.”
“Really?” Her voice quavered, but had an edge to it. “So I’m not supposed to be afraid of the guy who knocked me out, kidnapped me, tied me up, and now plans to force himself on me?”
Vox flinched at her words. He would never do those things. No honorable Drex—. He shook his head, the General’s echoing voice in his mind as he recalled the jolts of electricity that made his body convulse until he’d lost consciousness. No. He was no longer a Drexian. He was Kronock, and he had a mission to complete.
He fisted his hands. “You do not understand.”
“I could never understand you.” She met his gaze, her eyes blazing. “Not what you’ve become. You’re a monster.”
Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he felt an urge to defend himself, to prove he wasn’t a monster. Irrelevant, he thought, Krav’s voice becoming his own. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of you. There is only the mission.
He reached down and untied her hands, pulling her to standing and spinning her around without releasing her arms. Binding her hands together again behind her, Vox turned her back around and steered her forward by the elbow. “This monster did not take you to a lab, where they would have strapped you to a table and impregnated you with the hybrid they need. So, perhaps, there are worse monsters out there?”
“You want me to thank you for that?” Her laugh was hard and mirthless. “You’re still going to force yourself on me, right? I mean, that’s the whole point. Now you’re just going to do it in an alien whorehouse. I don’t think that makes you some kind of hero.”
Again, her words stung, and he tried to ignore the impulses they stirred up. He had no idea a human female would be so difficult
. He’d imagined that the small, fragile creature would be compliant and willing once she understood the situation, but this one was not. Vox sighed as they reached the center of the ship. “Do you always argue this much?”
She laughed again, this time louder. “When I’m being kidnapped? Always.”
He shook his head as he pulled a pair of heavy, brown cloaks out of a cabinet, throwing one over his shoulders and then draping one over hers. He flipped up both hoods and started to pull the fabric veil across her face.
She jerked away. “What are you doing?”
He frowned, closing in on her as she backed up until she was flush against the wall, his own, much larger, body nearly touching her. Vox suddenly realized how pretty she was when she was angry. His bionic eye quickly computed her biological reactions, projecting a read-out into his brain. Her body temperature was elevated, her breathing was ragged, and her pupils were so wide that her warm brown eyes looked nearly black—the same physical reactions most females had when they were aroused. She tipped her head back to meet his eyes, and her tongue licked her lower lip.
His cock twitched. Was it possible she was also aroused? He traced a finger down her cheek as he retrieved the corner of the veil. “This will keep the dust out of your mouth.”
“Oh,” she whispered, trembling as he touched her.
He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip, the blood pounding in his ears and reminding him that only a very small part of him was cybernetic. A much bigger part was one hundred percent organic.