The Alien's Lover (A SciFi Alien Warrior Romance) (Warriors of Luxiria Book 3)

by Zoey Draven

  The thought was sobering. Their rescue mission would only benefit the females currently in the Pit, not the ones that had already been claimed or the ones that would come afterwards.

  Lihvan looked down at the female in his arms and felt a stirring in his chest. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. It would do him no good if he got too attached to her. She would be leaving for her own planet soon, no matter what his Instinct desired.

  Already he felt his Instinct rebel at the thought of letting her go. Lihvan gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, the deep scar down his face pulling in discomfort.

  After navigating the twisting, dark hallways of the Pit’s underground tunnels, they finally reached their vessel and Lihvan wasted no time in boarding. To Vikan, he said, “Get us off the surface.”

  Vikan nodded, his eyes straying to the female in his arms once again. It looked as if she were sleeping, or perhaps she had passed out from shock or exhaustion or both. Either way, it was best that she was resting.

  “We put the others in the grand quarters. They will be safe there until we reach Luxiria.”

  He nodded and left Vikan to his duties. Lihvan would be needed in the command center shortly, but he wanted to make sure that the female was safely delivered with the rest of the humans.

  So why did he find his feet carrying him to his own quarters?

  Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his door, in the opposite direction of the grand quarters. The female roused against his chest as the door whooshed open and Lihvan stepped inside, hearing the door secure itself behind him.

  His quarters were nothing special. Not even his dwellings on Luxiria, both in the Golden City and on the outpost he oversaw, were anything special. It was where he slept. That was all. No sentimental trinkets or plush furs to relax against. When his sire had passed from this life, Lihvan had rid himself of everything that reminded him of that time. It was better not to remember the constant disappointment, the constant shame.

  Thinking of the female in his arms, he wondered what she would think of his sparse dwellings. Would she like the soft, colorful things that females of his race seemed to favor? He thought of her sleeping on his firm sleeping platform, devoid of any pleasurable comforts, and he cringed.

  No, he thought, shaking himself. He could not think that way. She would be gone from his life soon, gone as quickly as she’d appeared.

  When he glanced back down at her, preparing to set her on the sleeping platform, he found her eyes, a deep brown, fastened on him, alert and awake. He had learned to recognize human emotions from Kate, Vaxa’an’s human mate. And what he recognized in the female’s features was wariness.

  Then her eyes widened and she thrashed against him, trying to push at his shoulders, when she realized he was lowering her to the sleeping platform.

  “Female—” he grunted, taking a blow to the hardened muscles of his stomach. She had a good punch to her, which pleased him to no end, even though his abdomen now ached.

  “I will not have sex with you! Get away from me!” she screeched in his ear. Lihvan reared back and she tumbled onto the sleeping platform in a heap of naked limbs. His ears rang from the sheer volume of her voice but he winced when her words penetrated.

  Slowly, he backed away from her, even though his Instinct demanded that he be near. Just the thought that she assumed he would…it brought bile to the back of his throat.

  “Female,” he said, his voice gruff. “No Luxirian will ever touch you in that way, not without invitation. It is dishonorable. I only intended for you to rest.”

  She had curled into herself, a small ball of blonde hair and pale flesh. Lihvan crossed to his drawer and when it swung out, he pulled a fresh tunic from within, knowing that it would swamp her body. A primal part of him ached to see his clothing on her. At least his scent would mark her in some way. With slow steps, he laid the tunic on the sleeping platform, in front of her, and then backed away.

  Gesturing to the door on the left wall of the quarters, he inclined his head and murmured, “You may wash there if you wish, in privacy. I must leave you now, but I will have your meal delivered. Then you should rest.”

  She was still staring at him, but the lines of her body had relaxed a little, or perhaps Lihvan was imagining it. He wished he could stay with her, if not only to be in her presence since she wouldn’t be in his life for very long. But he figured that was the last thing that she wanted…especially after what he had walked into back on the Pit.

  Lihvan’s fist clenched, anger and disgust churning his belly, and he turned to face the door. It opened but before it closed, he found himself saying quietly, “Tell me your name, female.”

  She swallowed, the elegant lines of her throat shifting. Lihvan was transfixed by the delicate bones near her neck. He thought them…lovely. And that was a word he had never even considered to be in his vocabulary.

  Lihvan was tempted to turn away when he felt her gaze trace the deep scar that ran down his cheek. Females had always shied away from him or looked upon him with pity whenever they saw it. Why would this female be any different?

  She surprised him. In a quieter voice that slid over him like the finest Luxirian brew, she said, “My name is Rebecca. But everyone just calls me Beks.”

  Beks.

  Lihvan was tempted to say it, but he stopped himself. With a curt nod, he stepped into the hallway outside his quarters.

  “Wait,” she said, suddenly. He paused just beyond the threshold, but didn’t look at her. “What is…what is your name?”

  This is a foolish game, he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Why had he brought her into his quarters? He should’ve put her in with the other females.

  In a colder tone than he intended, he said, “My name does not matter, female.”

  Then, he closed the door.

  Fates…why? Why had he been gifted with a female he could never claim? She was not only a compatible Breeding partner, judging from his Instinct’s reaction to her, but he sensed that there was something deeper. She was…his fated mate. But that was surely impossible, wasn’t it? What were the chances that the first human female he’d set eyes on after Kate, Vaxa’an’s mate, would be his own luxiva?

  Despair made him reach out a hand to steady himself on the wall of the hallway. Everything he had ever wanted—a mate, a family, an escape from the crippling loneliness that had been plaguing him the past few rotations—was dangling right in front of him…and yet, he couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have her.

  Not that she would even want him anyway.

  With a growl, he pushed away from the wall and made his way to the command center. He had other pressing problems, one of them being getting every occupant on the vessel back to Luxiria safely. After he accomplished the mission Vaxa’an, his close friend and the Prime Leader of his species, tasked to him, perhaps then he could figure out what to do next.

  “Beks,” he said, testing the name on his tongue.

  Her name tasted of silk and the light of Luxiria’s morning suns.

  THREE

  Beks stared at the spot that the large, scarred alien had occupied just moments before and then she let out a sharp exhale, her limbs slowly unwrapping from around her body.

  The alien was…intense. That was an appropriate word to describe him. Her hand trembled when she reached out to touch the shirt he’d left on the edge of the bed and remembered the feel of the shifting, thick muscles of his chest. For some reason, his obvious strength comforted Beks. If he had wanted to hurt her, he would have already. Instead, he’d stayed far away in an attempt to ease her.

  Beks’ gaze shifted around the room she was in. The room was small. The size reminded her of her old dorm room in college, but somehow it didn’t seem crowded. The bed, she estimated, was a little larger than a full-sized bed and three-feet longer, no doubt to accommodate the sheer bulk of the alien. Anything less and he’d be falling off.

  The walls were bare and made of a silvery metal m
aterial. There were no windows that she could see out of and the door seemed like it was activated by a keypad that Beks didn’t even want to try to access, even though she worked in the tech industry. Her inner nerd was immediately wary.

  Gingerly, she got off the bed. She eyed the shirt, scooping it up as though it might bite her, and walked through the door the alien had pointed to.

  There was a clear, vertical tube set against the far wall, which she assumed was a shower of some kind. After fiddling with the pad imbedded into the glass, and perhaps through sheer luck, she got it to work. A steady stream of water poured down from the ceiling and she stepped eagerly into the spray. Beks almost moaned. She didn’t remember the last time she’d bathed…the night before she’d been abducted, most likely, and the timeline for how long she’d been captured was still a little fuzzy in her mind.

  There was no soap, at least none that she could see, but the hot water was enough. For now. Even though she wanted to scrub her skin raw, to erase that cage, that lizard alien’s fingers on her bare skin, by the time she’d stepped out of the stall, she felt slightly better, albeit tired.

  She wanted to sleep, but she was afraid of what might happen if she let her guard down. She tried so hard not to think about what had almost happened back in that room, right before the scarred alien had killed the other with his bare hands. Beks squeezed her eyes shut, her hands trembling as she pulled the borrowed shirt on. It fell to her knees and the sleeves came to her elbows. She was dripping in material, but picturing the size of the scarred alien, she figured it might even be a little tight on him.

  The material was airy and light, the softest material she’d ever felt, but it was the scent that made her nipples bead. She almost gasped out loud, she was so surprised by her reaction.

  The shirt smelled like a minty musk, oddly enough. Masculine and unexpected. She knew it was the alien’s scent. Dimly, when he’d carried her out of that room where she’d been kept caged for so long, she’d smelled him.

  She cursed her reaction, even as she lifted the front to inhale more deeply. Heat bloomed between her thighs and she dropped the shirt, embarrassed. Beks had never been prudish about her sexuality, but finding herself physically attracted to an alien, with dark curling horns and muscled shoulders that made her toes clench, was dangerous. Especially after everything she’d experienced. Her attraction to him didn’t make any sense. She was confused, obviously. It was much better if she simply ignored it.

  Beks shivered, sitting back down on the bed.

  Where are the others? she wondered, staring at the door. Were they safe?

  She hadn’t even thought to ask when the scarred alien had been there. There were a lot of questions she’d wished she’d asked, now that she could get her mind working. Like, what were the new aliens’ plans for the women? Where were they taking them? What would they do with them?

  So go demand answers, she thought. That was what her old self would’ve done. Her old self, pre-capture, would’ve marched around wherever she was, raising hell, until she got what she came for. Relentless. That was what her best friend, Kate, had always called her.

  A pang of loss hit her. Kate had disappeared over a month ago…or had it been two months now? Beks shook her head, frustrated and sad. Two peas in a pod. Kate had been the sister and family that Beks had always wanted…and she had a sneaking suspicion that Kate had been captured like she had, by those aliens.

  It physically hurt to think about what might have been her best friend’s fate. Was she even still alive?

  A sudden burst of anger took her by surprise and it made her shoot off the bed and march to the silver keypad on the wall. She was tired of not knowing, of allowing others to control what happened to her. Back on Earth, Beks never let anyone get in the way of what she wanted. And right now? She wanted some damn answers.

  It took her ten or eleven tries to finally get the door to swoosh open, but the lost time hadn’t dulled her determination. The corridor where the room was situated was empty and she decided to take a right and follow the hall, hoping it would lead her to someone who could direct her to the scarred alien. The alien who hadn’t told her his name, even though she’d told him hers. The alien she was sort of, kind of—okay, definitely—attracted to, which had trouble written all over it.

  Even though she felt a little silly roaming about in a shirt with no shoes, with no idea where to even go, she finally came across an alien. He wasn’t as broad as her alien, but he still towered over her. At the sight of Beks, his brows shot up and he approached her warily. An urge to laugh bubbled in her throat. This alien looked like a spooked animal and yet he easily had a hundred pounds on her. It eased her nerves, at least. He didn’t seem like he’d hurt her.

  “I’m looking for…” she exhaled sharply, wishing that damn alien had just told her his name. “The alien who…” she trailed off, wondering if he took offense to the word ‘alien.’ She cleared her throat, “To the guy who brought me on the ship. He’s about your height…with a scar on his face. I need to talk to him. Right now.”

  She realized just then that it was foolish of her to assume he spoke English.

  He studied her and then went to a silver pad on the wall, keying in some code, before speaking in the same rasping, lilting language that she’d heard the scarred alien speak. She wondered what they called themselves, what they called their language. It was odd, but for the first time, Beks realized that all of the species she’d seen had different cultures and customs, just like the people of Earth had. Until now, she’d been so preoccupied with escape, with getting back to her home, that she hadn’t even realized the implications of alien life, the enormity of it.

  A voice came through the keypad after a lengthy pause and then the alien turned to her and said, in heavily accented English, “You may follow me, female.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, voice hesitant, as she fell into step beside him. Had it been a mistake, being this bold? She didn’t know what their plans for the human women were, after all.

  “To the command center of the vessel.”

  Well, alrighty then, Beks thought.

  It was a short walk and Beks kept a wary eye on the towering alien next to her. When they came to a stop in front of a large set of metal doors and with one last sideways glance at Beks, her alien escort opened them, typing in a code.

  Inside was a whirlwind of activity. But that only interested Beks for a brief moment…because there was a large, clear panel of glass—huge panel of glass, really—that showed…space. Honest to God, real life space, the kind she’d only ever seen in pictures or movies.

  So many stars, she thought in awe, her mouth hanging open, too stunned to realize that almost every single alien in the command center had turned to stare at her.

  The scarred alien stepped in line of her view and her lips parted, remembering in a brief flash her physical response to him. The alien crossed his arms over his massive chest and Beks felt a tingle travel from the base of her neck to the tips of her toes.

  “You should be resting,” he said to her, a small, impassive frown on his features. Over his shoulder, he bit out an order in his language and the rest of the men returned to their work, ignoring them.

  Beks wondered if he was the captain of whatever this was. The men seemed to listen to him at least and there was no denying his strong, authoritative tone, even in his different language.

  He continued to stare at her, as though expectant. “I was told you needed to speak with me,” he prompted.

  Suddenly, she remembered why she was there. Looking at him had temporarily fried her brain, but, almost without realizing it, she said, “I want to know your name.”

  His frown deepened and he widened his stance, his tree-trunk sized thighs spreading. A flash of heat made her sharply intake a breath and she saw his nostrils flare.

  “You broke out from my quarters and came here to ask me my name?” he questioned, his voice deep, raspy, but unreadable.

  The
only thing she could say was, “I didn’t realize I was being kept prisoner in your quarters.”

  His chest stiffened and he shifted closer. But Beks wasn’t afraid. Even though he could kill her easily with his sheer strength alone, Beks didn’t feel threatened. He wouldn’t hurt her.

  How she knew that, she didn’t know. It was just a feeling.

  Something that sounded like a purr rumbled from his chest and Beks’ heartbeat fluttered in response. God, that sound…it was like a purr crossed with a growl. It was both calming, yet…primitive. She felt it reverberate down her spine and spread to her nipples.

  “Lihvan,” he said, inclining his head to her. “My name is Lihvan, female.”

  Lee-von, she whispered in her head. Lihvan.

  Beks cleared her throat, thrown again by the surge of something that passed through her body at the sound of his voice, at the knowledge of his name. “Well…I—uh…I have some questions for you, Lihvan. Questions that I want answered,” she said, her eyes sliding up to meet his. She added, “Right now,” just in case he didn’t take her seriously enough, not like it would do much.

  His eyes seemed to flash the moment she spoke his name. A purring rumble once again sounded from his chest but he cut it short, like he didn’t want her hearing it.

  Interesting, she noted. She wondered what that response meant.

  “Right now,” he repeated, his frown growing even deeper, his eyes and face still unreadable, “is not a good moment, female. You should go rest back in your quarters.”

  “You mean your quarters,” she reminded, taking a step closer. He seemed startled by her sudden movement and took a step away from her before he scowled at himself. Female awareness spread to the tips of her fingers and Beks cocked her head to the side, wondering if the alien was either threatened or wary or attracted to her. Or all three.

  Beks was no stranger to picking up subtle cues from men. She was no stranger to navigating the dating pool, to decoding vague text messages, to playing games. She was damn good at it too. And even though she preferred being single, a part of her missed that intricate little puzzle between sexes, that push and pull, those first moments of nervous excitement.