Rykaur: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 8)

by Ditter Kellen

  She’d never been kissed in such a way. The passion with which Rykaur devoured her lips took her breath.

  He carefully backed her against the side of the pool, holding her suspended within his arms. “Put your legs around me.”

  The gentle command slipped through her mind like warm silk.

  Mary wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her feet behind his ass.

  Rykaur stepped in closer, rolled his hips, and pressed the rigid length of his shaft along her most sensitive place.

  Tightening her legs, Mary used his shoulders as leverage to hold herself against his hardness.

  She could feel the heat, the pulsing, and a different kind of wetness where his sex rested against her opening. She recognized it for what it was.

  Though Mary had never experienced sex, she knew enough to know she wanted Rykaur inside her. She could feel her body readying itself for his penetration, needing, craving something she knew only he could give.

  Locking one arm around her, Rykaur took a step back, lowered a hand beneath the water, and sought out her aching center.

  Mary moaned at the feel of his probing fingers through her shorts.

  Rykaur dropped his forehead against hers. “Mary?”

  The guttural sound of his voice only made her want him more. She stared into his emerald eyes.

  “I want to take you. No, I need to take you. It is a need like none I have ever felt before.”

  Mary continued to stare at him, unable to break eye contact.

  Rykaur pressed his fingers more firmly against her and moved them in a circular motion.

  A shudder passed through Mary.

  “I need you to understand, Mary. If I take you now, I will never let you go. You will belong to me. There will be no going back.”

  Mary’s hips jerked with every pass of his fingers along her sensitive bundle of nerves. “Belong to you?”

  “As in mate.”

  The word mate opened the door to allow her judgment to return. She stilled her swiveling hips. “You mean like a wife?”

  “Rykaur? Come quick! Fiona and Syrina are about to fight in the training room.”

  Mary froze, unable to move as Rykaur’s giant body pinned her against the side of the pool.

  The male’s voice came again. “Rykaur? Are you down there?”

  “I will be right there!” Rykaur answered, lifting Mary to the pool’s ledge. “There are towels in that nook over there.”

  Mary scampered over to the nook and pulled down two towels, handing Rykaur one as he stepped up next to her.

  “I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable position, Mary. It is just…”

  Unable to look at him, Mary began to dry herself off. “Just what?”

  “It is not important. Let us go.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rykaur couldn’t believe that he’d mentioned the word mate to Mary. She’d only known him for a short time, and the thought of mating with him was no doubt the furthest thing from her mind. It should be the last thing on his mind as well. Especially after the pain he’d experienced at the hands of Kaura.

  Trust wasn’t an easy thing for Rykaur to give. And trusting Mary would be near impossible. She’d lied to him every step of the way since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  In her defense, he silently acknowledged, she’d really had no choice but to lie. She not only had to protect herself, but she protected the lives of her little gang of orphans as well.

  Even now, as they traveled through the corridors of Aukrabah, Rykaur could feel her worry, her helplessness where the children were concerned. Even while in his arms, the anxiety and tension remained.

  He glanced down at the top of her fiery red head, and a strange longing overtook him. His stomach clenched with the realization that he wanted her to feel that same intensity for him that she did for those children.

  “We will get them back,” he found himself assuring her. “No matter what I have to do, Mary. I will return those children to you.”

  And he meant it. He accepted, in that moment, that he would do just about anything to remove the deep despair she carried in her heart. To free her of the torment she battled every second of every day.

  She peered up at him, her soft gray eyes full of sorrow. “I pray that you can, Rykaur. If something happens to them, I won’t be able to live with it.”

  They took a left at the next corridor, the rumble of cheers spilling out from the training room up ahead.

  “Stay close to me,” Rykaur ordered, rounding the corner and entering the crowded space.

  The first thing Rykaur noticed was a pale-faced Gryke standing along the edge of the arena on the opposite side of the room. Though his stance appeared relaxed, Rykaur could read the emotion in his steely eyes.

  He is afraid for his mate, Rykaur thought, taking hold of Mary’s hand and circling the crowd. And rightfully so. Where Syrina was well over six feet of muscle and barbs, Fiona was merely a human.

  Pushing his way through the roaring crowd, Rykaur sidled up next to Gryke. The other Bracadyte didn’t need to look at Gryke to convey his feelings. Rykaur fairly choked on them.

  “You should put a stop to this,” Rykaur mentally sent to an anxious Gryke. “No one would hold you to blame. Your mate is not Bracadyte. The Arkadian will kill her.”

  Gryke’s muscles tensed, but he didn’t move. “Fiona challenged her. I cannot simply pull her out. She will be labeled a coward, and that is something she would never forgive me for. I will stop it if it becomes too much.”

  Mary tugged on Rykaur’s vest, demanding his attention. He leaned down to hear her over the thundering of the crowd.

  “This is barbaric, Rykaur! You have to do something.”

  Rykaur squeezed her hand, speaking to her mind instead of aloud. “This is our way, Mary. It is a challenge and a great honor to the winner. Gryke will not allow his mate to be injured greatly. Of that, I am certain.”

  Mary didn’t respond, instead, staring instead at the two females circling each other in the arena.

  Fiona crouched low, her hands extended out in front of her as the Arkadian stalked her.

  Syrina suddenly attacked, her fist swinging with a quickness that stunned Rykaur.

  What happened next shocked him even more.

  Fiona ducked, spun around, and jumped, kicking out with her booted foot and connecting with the Arkadian’s jaw.

  Syrina’s feet came out from under her, leaving her on her back on the unforgiving rock floor.

  The tall blonde Bracadyte was on her feet in an instant, charging Fiona before she could regroup.

  Syrina took Gryke’s mate to the floor, her larger fists pummeling Fiona’s face.

  Gryke took a hesitant step forward, stopping when his mate bared her teeth. “No, Gryke!”

  The fighting went on for what seemed an eternity until both females were out of breath and bleeding profusely. They rolled around on the floor, grappling for domination when Syrina finally pinned Fiona’s arms with her legs, preventing her from further retaliation.

  Everyone in the room grew quiet, waiting with bated breath for what would happen next.

  The females stared into each other’s eyes for long moment before Syrina pushed away and staggered to her feet. She reached down and offered Fiona her hand.

  Fiona hesitated, gauging the Arkadian’s intentions, and then accepted her outstretched palm.

  They stood face to face in the center of the arena, both attempting to catch their breath.

  “You are a great warrior, mate of Gryke. A worthy opponent indeed.”

  Fiona grinned through bloodied lips. “You kicked my ass.”

  Syrina’s lips twitched. “I do not know what would have happened had the fight gone on another ten minutes. You had me worried.”

  Cheers exploded throughout the room like the thunder of a thousand horses.

  Gryke instantly burst forward, his arms going around his mate. He scooped her up, ignoring her protests, an
d shouldered his way to the exit.

  “Come,” Rykaur insisted, giving Mary’s hand a slight tug. “Let us go eat and rest. We have much to discuss before we return to the surface in less than two days.”

  Mary nodded, allowing him to guide her through the throng of people.

  “Anyone else?” Klause called out, from his position in the crowd.

  A cocky male Arkadian stepped forward, his white hair pulled back into a ponytail and his amber-colored eyes glittering with malice.

  Klause nodded to the warrior before raising his hand for silence. “Tell me your name, Arkadian.”

  “I am called Pyre.”

  Rykaur slowed his steps, curious as to who would fight the newcomer.

  “Pick your opponent.” Klause waved toward the warriors lined along the wall, waiting to fight.

  Pyre studied the faces along the wall, his gaze touching on every Bracadyte in a calculative manner before turning his attention toward the doorway where Rykaur and Mary stood.

  Narrowing his amber eyes, Pyre slowly lifted his hand and pointed to Rykaur. “You.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mary stared into the eyes of the manic-looking Arkadian currently pointing at Rykaur.

  She couldn’t believe the giant had challenged Rykaur to fight.

  Her heart hammered in fear and more than a little disbelief. Surely Rykaur would decline to fight the barbarian?

  The room had once again grown completely quiet as everyone waited to see what Rykaur would do.

  And of course, he did exactly as Mary feared he would.

  “Zaureth?” Rykaur called out, leading Mary to the healer’s side. “Take care of her for me.”

  Mary panicked the second Rykaur walked away from her. “Wait!”

  Rykaur stilled but kept his back to her. “Stay with Zaureth. He will see that no harm comes to you.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Mary pleaded to no avail, watching in helplessness as Rykaur sauntered into the arena, peeling off his vest as he went.

  Her terrified gaze followed his every movement, watching as the muscles rippled along his massive back. The tattoos adorning his arms and shoulders only added to his fierceness.

  Rykaur stopped in front of the Arkadian, pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and lifted the corner of his mouth. “You should have chosen more wisely, pale one. As the humans say, I am about to kick your ass.”

  Mary pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring Zaureth’s insistence that she stay against the wall. Rykaur was fighting what could only be described as a beast of a Bracadyte, and there was no way she would cower back like a frightened kitten. No, she would stand by his side the way he’d stood by hers.

  A bell rang, signaling the fight to begin.

  Pyre jumped first, slamming a fist against Rykaur’s jaw with the force of a truck.

  Blood sprayed through the air, eliciting cheers from the bloodthirsty crowd of Bracadytes surrounding them.

  Rykaur’s head had snapped to the side from the powerful blow, but his feet remained rooted to the floor.

  He slowly brought his head around, spat blood at the Arkadian’s feet, and grinned. “As I said, you should have picked another.”

  With lightning speed, Rykaur’s huge arm snapped out, his fist shattering Pyre’s nose. Blood exploded from the orifice, and both the Arkadian’s hands flew up to cover the bleeding appendage. He staggered back but managed to stay on his feet.

  Rykaur struck again, this time nailing his opponent’s chin.

  Pyre staggered back another step before shaking off the blow’s effects and returning to his original fighting stance.

  Tears of terror filled Mary’s eyes as she stood on the sidelines, watching the fight grow to brutal lengths.

  The sounds of bone connecting with bone echoed off the walls of the training room, the two warriors painting the floor with each other’s blood.

  A savage smile suddenly appeared on Rykaur’s face, his fangs dripping crimson from the blood of his injuries.

  Something flickered in Pyre’s eyes. Whether fear or pain, Mary couldn’t be sure.

  A roar burst from Rykaur, a vicious sound that damn near stopped Mary’s heart.

  She watched in stunned silence as Rykaur’s knees bent slightly, his huge body blasting through the air and his leg kicking out to connect with Pyre’s face.

  The Arkadian’s head snapped back on his shoulders, and his legs folded beneath him. He was out cold before his back touched the floor.

  Mary took a step toward Rykaur, pride filling her heart when a voice in the back, stopped her.

  “Rykaur!”

  Turning in the direction of the voice, Mary’s mouth went dry with fear. There, pushing his way through the crowd, was the biggest Bracadyte she’d seen yet. He had to be over seven feet tall, with a chest the size of a refrigerator. His white hair hung loose about his shoulders and his amber-colored eyes burned with confrontation.

  Rykaur wiped the blood from his mouth and faced the giant with a calmness that belied his exhausted state. “Zyen.”

  “I challenge you,” Zyen growled, flipping his hair back in a taunting manner.

  Nausea rolled through Mary at the thought of Rykaur fighting the giant. “Please don’t do this.”

  Rykaur mentally answered without breaking eye contact with Zyen. “It will be all right, Mary. Have Zaureth take you to our apartment. I will be done here soon.”

  It wasn’t lost on her that he’d referred to his apartment as theirs. “I’m begging you not to do this.”

  “I challenge you, Zyen.” The loud proclamation reverberated inside Mary’s head, jerking her attention to the part forming in the crowd.

  Melvin, the ex-CIA agent Mary had met earlier stepped into the arena, wearing fatigues and mirrored Ray-Bans. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

  Zyen’s eyes glittered with something dark, something Mary had only seen once before…in Doug Jefferies.

  Mary held her breath as Rykaur stood immobile, facing off with the blond Arkadian.

  “He’s mine,” Melvin demanded, tossing his shirt somewhere behind him. He took off his sunglasses and handed them to Mary. “Keep these safe.”

  Rykaur wondered what the Arkadian had done to warrant Melvin’s ire. “Are you certain?”

  “Do not leave,” Zyen growled to Rykaur. “You are next.”

  Rykaur merely smiled. “I am counting on it.”

  Mary inched over to give Rykaur some room. He squeezed in beside her, his attention on the crazy ex-CIA agent about to get his ass handed to him.

  The bell rang, signaling the fight to begin.

  Mary could do nothing but stand there and watch along with the rest of the crowd as the barbaric game began once more.

  The Arkadian stood a head above Melvin. And though the agent was bigger than the average man, there was no way he could match the Bracadyte in strength.

  Zyen moved first, jumping at Melvin with a quickness that surprised Mary. But Melvin was faster, sidestepping the Bracadyte and slapping him on the back of his head.

  Laughter erupted inside the training room, further pissing the Bracadyte off. He roared his rage, spun around, and charged Melvin once again.

  Melvin sprang into the air, vaulted over the giant’s head, and kicked him in the butt.

  Spittle sprayed from Zyen’s mouth, so great was his fury. He quickly righted himself and turned to face the agent. “Why do you not fight!”

  Melvin rolled his shoulders. “Perhaps if I had a worthy opponent.”

  Mary could practically feel the rage radiating from Zyen. His eyes were manic and unfocused. He stalked slowly forward until he was at arm’s length from Melvin. “You will die.”

  Melvin struck with the speed of a snake, his knuckles extended away from his hand to connect with Zyen’s exposed throat.

  The massive giant dropped to his knees, his eyes huge with disbelief. A whistling sound came from his throat with every breath he attempted to take.

  Melvin sho
wed no mercy. He kicked out with his leg, his booted foot slamming into the Bracadyte’s chin.

  Mary watched in amazement as the blond giant’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.

  The dark-haired agent merely stepped forward, collected his Ray-Bans from Mary, and sauntered from the room without a word.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rykaur had never seen a male fight the way Melvin had. His moves were sure and swift, taking down his opponent without acquiring even a scratch.

  Rykaur grabbed hold of Mary’s hand, making a mental note to speak with Melvin about working with the warriors. The Bracadytes could benefit greatly from the man’s skills.

  “Are you hurt?” Mary breathed as soon as they breached the hallway.

  Rykaur shook his head. Mary’s concern for his welfare warmed his insides. “Most of the blood belongs to Pyre.”

  She looked relieved. “Why do your people participate in such brutal games? For a second there, I thought I’d fallen asleep and awoken in a game of Mortal Kombat.”

  “I am not familiar with that game.”

  Mary sighed. “I saw it in a movie.” She paused as they passed his apartment. “Where are we going?”

  “To bathe. I cannot expect you to eat while I sit across from you covered in blood.”

  She laughed nervously. “You’re going to bathe with me in the room?”

  “There is a private place where you can sit while I take my bath. I cannot leave you in my apartment. Not after the look Zyen gave you back at the arena.”

  Mary’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t notice him looking at me.”

  “I did,” Rykaur growled, remembering the lustful way Zyen had looked upon his Mary. And she was his Mary, whether he trusted her or not. She had been his since the moment he’d taken her blood.

  Entering the bath house, Rykaur nodded to an alcove off to the right. “You can wait in there. The bench is not the most comfortable to sit on, but I will not be long.”

  He waited for Mary to disappear into the alcove, grabbed a towel from the shelf, and then stripped out of his bloodied clothes.