Pursued: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Romance (Raider Warlords of the Vandar Book 4)

by Tana Stone

  He nodded. “You were making noises in your sleep at one point. You sounded frightened.”

  Another reason I didn’t sleep with the males I bedded. The nightmares had never stopped, and the time at the imperial academy had only added to the torturous memories that haunted my sleep.

  “It’s nothing,” I told him. “I’m fine. I promise.”

  He eyed me as if he didn’t believe me. “You are not thinking about the assassin?”

  Actually, I hadn’t been. Rennick was not someone I’d miss, or have any regrets about killing—or helping to kill. He’d been the worst kind of imperial agent—one who had no honor. “No. His is not a death I regret.”

  He slipped his hand under the sheet and settled it on my back. “I’ve dreamt about past battles before. The ones where we lost raiders are the ones I seem to relive.”

  I peered up at his face, his expression fierce in the half light. “I have a hard time imagining the Vandar being defeated. Your ships are invisible.”

  “Even so, we have lost raiders. Imperial blasters do not always miss, and the Zagrath seem to have an endless supply of faceless soldiers.”

  I returned my gaze to the inky marks on his skin. “I’m very familiar with Zagrath soldiers.”

  His hand stilled on my back. “Did you work with them?”

  I made a derisive noise in the back of my throat. “Those brainless thugs? No. I always worked alone, but it would be hard to avoid the soldiers entirely.” I ran my tongue over the side of my mouth that had recently been swollen. “I’ve had encounters with them.”

  As if reading my mind, Bron’s gaze went to my faded bruises. “You got those from an imperial soldier?”

  I hesitated, but then sighed. I’d already confessed as much to him. “That was partially true. I did get injured by the empire. But I let the soldier rough me up, so you’d believe I was a victim.”

  A dark rumble escaped from his throat. “You do not have to be their victim ever again.”

  I lay my head on his chest, soothed by the steady rise and fall of his breath and reassured by his earnest words.

  Lying in bed with Bron wasn’t so bad. Instead of having the urge to flee, I liked being with him. It felt right, even though in my heart of hearts, I knew it couldn’t last. As much as he pledged to protect me, there was only so much one person could do against the might and will of the empire. Or even one horde. I’d worked for the Zagrath long enough to know how long and far they could reach. I’d seen the evidence when Rennick had managed to get himself onto an invisible horde.

  Even pressed up against the solidness of the Raas, I felt the pull of the empire. They owned me, and nothing would stop them from finding me and either bringing me back, or eliminating me. An involuntary shudder passed through me, and Bron pulled me closer.

  “You still fear the empire?” he asked.

  “I know them. They are relentless.”

  “No more relentless than the Vandar.”

  I smiled at that. “You are incredibly stubborn.”

  The Raas turned so he was lying on his side and facing me. “Do you trust me, Alana?”

  My breath caught in my throat. It had been so long since I’d trusted anyone—longer than I could remember—but as I stared into his eyes, I did trust him. As much as I’d been taught never to trust, the Vandar Raas had managed to slip past my considerable defenses and edge his way into my heart.

  It didn’t make any sense. I barely knew him, and I was supposed to kill him. Instead, I found myself nodding as my throat tightened. Despite everything I’d been told about the Vandar raiders—the sworn enemy of the empire—I believed Raas Bron. He had already saved me once. He wasn’t the ruthless monster I’d been told he was, and he would not lie to me or hurt me. I believed that to my core, even though I should have believed the opposite.

  I put a hand to the dark scruff of his cheek. “I trust you.”

  As he shifted closer to me, there was a heavy pounding on the door, followed by a bellowing voice. “Raas, you are needed on the command deck at once.”

  My stomach clenched. The Zagrath, I thought. They’d come for me. Again.

  Bron rolled over, pinning my body beneath his, and kissed me hard, then he cupped my face as tightly as he held my gaze. “I have pledged myself and my horde to protect you. Never forget that.”

  And then he jumped from bed, threw on his battle kilt, and was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bron

  I burst onto the command deck, not waiting for my raiders to salute me with their heels. “Report!”

  Svar spun toward me, his kilt catching air and slapping his thighs. “We’ve picked up a distress call, Raas.”

  The tension in my shoulders uncoiled. After the Zagrath had sent—and lost— another assassin, I’d expected it to be an imperial fleet hot on our tail.

  “The Valox,” Corvak added, his voice humming with barely contained urgency.

  “Here?” I turned to my battle chief then back to the view screen. The Valox resistance was a ragtag operation that had been waging war against the empire less successfully than us. Comprised of fighters from various planets and species, they were able to blend in on imperial outposts whereas we could not, and their ships did not have any distinctive markings like Vandar warbirds. But their nondescript ships could not fly unseen as we could, which left them exposed to Zagrath attacks.

  “This is not their usual sector,” Svar said, as he pivoted back to his standing console, “but it appears that a battle chased them here.”

  “How long until we reach them?” I drummed my fingers restlessly on the hilt of my axe. It was not often I was in a position to lend assistance to fellow enemies of the empire.

  “Approaching now, Raas.” Svar’s fingers flew across his screen then he snapped his head up. “On screen.”

  The streaks of light as we raced through space became pinpoints as we slowed to approach a squadron of battered ships. I leapt down from my vantage point overlooking the command deck and walked to the glass, as if I could get closer to the injured ships. “Damage?”

  “They’ve been badly hit,” Corvak said. “But life support appears to be functional, and they do have some shield capacity.”

  I released a breath. “Hail them and offer assistance.”

  “Should we drop invisibility shielding?” Svar asked.

  I gave a sharp shake of my head. “Not yet. We cannot discount the possibility of an imperial trap.” I thought about Alana’s insistence that the Zagrath would come after her. “I want full scans of the system. If there’s anything out there, I need to know about it.”

  “Yes, Raas.” Svar focused on his screen as he transmitted the hail.

  I took long steps to join Corvak at his post. “What do you think, battle chief?”

  “I see no reason to think it isn’t a damaged squad of Valox resistance fighters, Raas.” He tilted his head at me. “Do you have reason to believe otherwise?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. “But Kratos taught us both to be cautious, and always suspect the empire.”

  Corvak’s upper lip quirked. “We both learned that lesson well. We can never let down our guard when it comes to the enemy.”

  I slid my gaze to the ships on our screen, their gray hulls scorched and pocked by laser fire. “But we should not withhold aid from those who also fight against the Zagrath.”

  “Our enemy’s enemy is our friend.”

  I clapped a hand on Corvak’s bare shoulder. “Well said.”

  “Raas.” My majak’s voice pulled my attention. “The Valox have responded to our hail and welcome our assistance. One of their ships has a significant hull breach and another has a damaged engine.”

  “Are repairs already underway?” I asked.

  Svar frowned. “The engineer on one of the damaged ships was killed in the battle and there are only a handful of survivors on the other failing ship.”

  I considered this for a moment. “Is it safe for us to board
and assist with repairing the engine, while the ship with the breached hull is evacuated?”

  “I believe so, Raas.”

  I squared my shoulders. “I will join the boarding parties. Tell one of our engineers to join me on the hangar bay.”

  “You, Raas?” Corvak asked.

  I flicked a glance at him. “I wish to see these fighters who also despise the empire.”

  “I will join you,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I need you here monitoring long-range sensors for any enemy activity. If you pick up any incoming attack, I need your battle experience to hold them off until the boarding parties have returned.”

  He met my eyes with a determined glint in his. “It is done.”

  “Good.” I turned on my heel and headed for the door as my majak fell in step with me.

  “Before you object,” he said, holding up a hand as we passed through the arched doors and stepped off the command deck, “it would be a dereliction of duty for me to allow my Raas to go on a raiding mission without me.”

  “This is no raiding mission,” I said, although I did not slow as we both thundered down the walkway, side by side.

  “You do not know what we will find on the Valox resistance ships. Or what will transpire. Just because it has been quiet since we left Zendaren, we should not expect the calm to last.”

  He had a point, and it was Vandar protocol for my majak to be by my side during battle. My fingers tingled at the thought of a fight. Though fucking had slaked some of my desire, my heart still raced at the possibility of another imperial attack.

  “I’m afraid we will both be disappointed when we find wounded ships and injured resistance fighters.”

  “Better than imperial fighters on our warbird attempting to kill our passenger,” he said.

  I forgot that he did not know what I did about Alana, although I suspected he’d heard the assassin call her Mantis before he’d fallen. If he knew that an imperial assassin remained on board, he would not find our situation so dull. “Peace never lasts long. We will find ourselves drawing Zagrath blood soon enough.”

  We made our way quickly down the iron stairs, and across rattling bridges that crisscrossed the dark, yawning chasm of the warbird. When we entered the hangar bay, a group of raiders waited next to a raiding ship. I spotted one of our engineers, nodding to him as I hurried up the ship’s ramp with the rest of the raiders followed me.

  “This time, we guard the raiding ship,” I said, once the ramp had slammed shut with a bang and the engines had roared to life. “And take no souvenirs with us.”

  “Yes, Raas,” the raiders replied, their massive arms clutching railings overhead as we rocketed across the hangar bay and toward the Valox ships floating in space like hobbled animals. They’d heard by now of the imperial stowaway, and I knew the security breach stirred anger in all of them. That a Zagrath had been able to sneak onto a warbird and attack a passenger—a female passenger—was a black mark we all wanted to redeem.

  My mind went briefly to Alana. I’d left her naked and in bed, which was where I hoped she’d be when I returned. Assisting fellow resistance fighters had fired my blood, but I would need more than a visit to a damaged ship to quench my need.

  The ship jolted as we locked onto one of the Valox vessels, and my thoughts focused on the task at hand. Help the Valox, then I could return to my bed and the female waiting for me. My pulse quickened as I rushed down the ramp behind my raiders.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Alana

  The ship no longer rumbled from flight, and the view out the wide wall of glass was unmoving. I gathered the sheets around me as I sat up, my pulse fluttering. I didn’t know why we’d stopped, but at least there was no sound of battle. I would have known if the empire had found us. Still, my stomach tensed as the flames crackled in the hearth. They’d found me once. They would undoubtedly do it again.

  Unlike those who felt uneasy when they were thrust into action, I was most unsettled when I wasn’t in motion. I preferred to be prepping for a mission, or in the middle of stalking a target. Anything but waiting.

  I huffed out a breath, letting the silky fabric slip to the floor as I stood. Bron had not been gone long, but impatience gnawed at me. Since when did I wait around for someone? Anyone?

  I opened the flat-paneled wardrobe built into the ebony wall. Below the row of hanging battle kilts, was a series of drawers. I’d been too crazed when I’d dressed before, but now I took the time to look through the garments. In the first two drawers, I only found swaths of thick fabric, still disheveled from me pawing through them earlier, but in the bottom drawer were garments sized for me.

  I held up a fabric kilt, eyeing the nubby, brown cloth. It wasn’t exactly chic, but at least I wouldn’t be swimming in it. I stepped into the short, pleated skirt, then slipped on a brushed-leather vest and buttoned it.

  There were no mirrors in the bedroom, so I padded into the bathing chamber to appraise myself. Standing in front of the long counter, I sized up my new look. My hair was choppy and wild, only adding to the warrior vibe the clothes gave me.

  “I guess this is what Vandar females look like,” I said, twisting to look at myself from all angles. It wasn’t bad, and it did make me feel pretty badass. Since I usually wore clothes that helped me blend in, I wasn’t used to such a distinct look. All I needed now were Vandar boots that laced up my calves, and leather braces to sheath my arms. That, and an axe.

  The door outside the room swished open, and I poked my head out, expecting to see the Raas, and eager to show him my outfit. But it wasn’t Bron. It was a young Vandar boy, carrying a tray on his shoulder as his tail swished nervously behind him.

  When he spotted me, the tray bobbled, and he nearly dropped it.

  “Sorry to startle you,” I said, as he righted himself and proceeded to the dining table.

  “It’s my fault.” He lowered the tray to the table and unloaded the domed plates. “I was told the human prisoner would be here. I shouldn’t have been startled.”

  I bristled at the word prisoner, but didn’t argue with him. The boy was clearly only doing what he was told, and it was better for the crew to think I was a prisoner than a spy.

  “I was told you’d be hungry.” His face flushed, and he didn’t meet my eyes. It was also obvious what it meant for a female prisoner to be staying in the Raas’ quarters. Not that he would have been wrong in assuming I was famished from sex.

  “Thanks.” My stomach rumbled as the savory scents drifted to me. “Do you know why we stopped?”

  The boy’s tail twitched faster. “We’re providing aid to some Valox ships.”

  “Valox?” My interest was piqued. The Valox might not be as vicious or as effective as the Vandar, but were still a thorn in the empire’s side. The only reason I hadn’t been sent to infiltrate one of their rebel squads was their chaotic organization and lack of any command structure. It was hard to cut off the head of the enemy when we couldn’t figure out who led it.

  “We’ll be back on course soon.” The Vandar boy bowed as he backed out of the room, his eyes never meeting mine.

  I crossed the space quickly. Now that I’d smelled the food, I was ravenous. I lifted one dome and then another, revealing half a dozen steaming dishes, and a basket of bread knots. The food was unfamiliar, but bread I knew. Grabbing a warm knot, I tore into it and moaned at the yeasty flavor.

  There were no utensils, but there was a pile of flatbread stacked high on a plate. Using a wedge of bread, I scooped up a mouthful of one of the soupy dishes. The spice instantly made my eyes water, but I swallowed. Definitely not Zagrath food, but I could get used to it.

  As soon as I thought that, I frowned. I shouldn’t get used to it. I shouldn’t get used to any of it. Not the food or the clothes or even the electrifying touch of the Raas. As much he claimed he could protect me, staying on his horde ship was dangerous. Soon enough, the empire would realize that I’d either been captured, killed, or I’d failed in my mi
ssion. They’d come after the Vandar, and when they discovered that I was alive and so was Raas Bron, we would both be targets.

  “I should go,” I whispered even though there was no one in the room to hear me.

  The only time to slip out would be when Bron was gone. Once he returned, he wouldn’t listen to my arguments, or care that it was a deadly mistake to keep me on his ship. He was as stubborn as I was, which was infuriating.

  I didn’t want to go, which was a strange sensation for me. Usually I would be itching to leave and get to my next mission, but there would be no next mission, this time. If I didn’t kill the Raas and lead the Zagrath to the Vandar horde, my life as an imperial assassin was over.

  I mulled this over for a moment. Would I really miss a life spent hiding and running and killing? My fingers twitched as if reaching for a blade. Maybe parts of it. I had been trained for the job since childhood. It wasn’t so easy to shake it off. Then again, it also wasn’t easy to think about killing Bron.

  I closed my eyes and my heart squeezed. Why couldn’t I kill him? He was the enemy, wasn’t he? He actively worked against the empire, and I worked for them. I’d been bred to hate his kind, and I should have no problem killing him in his sleep.

  But I couldn’t. He wasn’t what they said about him. None of the Vandar were. I’d seen glimpses of the person beneath the armor and battle axe. Raas Bron did not deserve death. Not by my hand.

  My eyes flew open. He also didn’t deserve to have the empire pursue him doggedly because of me. My presence in his horde and his bed only put him in greater danger. I ignored the hard ball of regret gripping my belly as I glanced around the room. He would be upset to return to his quarters and find me gone, but he would survive. I thought about the intensity of his gaze, and the sharp lines of his handsome face. For some reason even I didn’t understand, I needed him to survive.