Their Zandian Mate_An Alien Warrior Reverse Harem Romance

by Renee Rose

  She surrendered to their passion, her own burning bright enough to meet it. The hum filling her veins grew louder. It was too many sensations at once to track, and yet all brought her pleasure. Need. Pleasure. More need until her core began to quake. A scream shot out around Laake’s cock and she came. The males laughed and soothed and kept rocking into her until they each found their own finish. When it was over, they cradled her on their laps, stroking and praising her until she nearly forgot her problems.

  But then the baby woke and three young wanted to come in and soon the chaos of every morning had begun. Two hours later, she had washed and dressed and nursed the baby. The young had left with one of their many guardians, and she remained alone with Laake.

  Which boded well. He was the most innocent of the three. The most trusting and open. If she could convince him to let her out on her own, maybe she could get to the dungeon.

  “Laake, I’m allowed out in the pod if I’m accompanied, aren’t I?”

  He held Sol by the armpits, letting the baby exercise his legs bounding on Laake’s lap. “Yes. Why?”

  “Would you… take me on a tour? I’d love to see it all.” She made her voice soft and innocent.

  “Of course.” He stood up immediately.

  She’d known he’d be easy, but she hadn’t known it would be that simple. Guilt rose up, black and ugly, but she shoved it back down. She was doing this for her young. She jumped up and slipped on a pair of soft animal-skin boots. “I’m ready if you are.”

  He extended an arm and she slipped under it, marveling at how natural and easy the gesture came to both of them, when it was one she’d never shared once with her former mates. He walked her slowly through the magnificent pod, taking time to explain details to her. How they used Zandian crystal to amplify the light so they could survive away from their planet. Why they chose to plaster the walls in the colors of Zandia. How Prince Zander’s mate, Lamira, had been a slave on an Ocretion agrifarm and had brought her knowledge of growing fresh Earth food to the pod. He told her that one day per week—which was every ten planet rotations on Ocretia—the Zandians gathered in the Great Hall for the only meal they required.

  He showed her the room he shared with Damon and Granit, the area where all the guards slept. He took her to the dock where they had many new airships.

  “And the dungeons? Where are they?”

  Laake’s face softened with sympathy. “Are you thinking of your former mates? They are not suffering, I assure you.”

  “Would—could I just see?”

  His expression clouded. “Why, beautiful?” His brows knitted. “Do you still care about them?”

  She swallowed. If she agreed, would he let her see them? Laake was all earnest kindness. He didn’t seem to have a jealous or mean streak anywhere in his personality. “Yes.” The lie burned on her tongue, especially when she saw the pain it caused her dear Laake. But she pushed forward. “Would you let me see them? Just for a few moments?”

  Laake rubbed his forehead. “You’ll see them later this planet rotation when Zander questions them.”

  She stepped closer, shifting the baby to her hip and resting her fingertips on his chest where his muscles created ridged handles. “Please, Laake?” She lifted on her tiptoes, brushing her lips across the hollow of his throat.

  His mouth dipped but he covered one of her hands with his. “If you must.”

  There were four beings total in the dungeon, all Zandian, all male. Separate cells for each one. Laake had reluctantly agreed to let her go in alone, staying to talk with the guard on duty. Eslyn clutched Sol to her chest and passed the first prisoner, a stranger, and then Sankro’s greedy face came into view.

  He may be good-looking for a male, but she didn’t see him that way. To her, he was nothing but mean. She stiffened her spine. She had no need to be afraid. He was secure in his cell.

  “Eslyn.” He sprang up from the bench where he’d been sitting and came close to the curtain of laser keeping him in. “Where have you been? What’s happening?” He sniffed and his brows slammed down. “Why do I smell other males on you?”

  She hated the strangled cry of fear that erupted from her throat as her feet moved of their own accord, dashing forward, out of his vision. Damn her heart for slamming against her ribs.

  He can’t hurt you now. And she needed to make sure he never could again.

  The next cell held Banf. She passed it, not because she preferred to speak to Elit over Banf, only because she wanted to get farther away from Sankro.

  “Elit.”

  “Eslyn. You’re free. Where are the rest of the young?” His eyes lingered on Sol, but not with the same soft wonder that bloomed on her guards’ faces every time they saw him. No, his was a mean, possessive look.

  As if Sol felt the danger, the baby burst into tears.

  She turned Sol’s face into her chest and bounced the babe. Good. This reminder helped strip her of any guilt she might have felt about Elit being locked up here while she was free with their children. She wouldn’t pity him. Not after all the years the males had tormented her, forced her to do their every bidding. Hurt her physically and emotionally.

  “I’ve been locked in a room above. The young are being cared for by the females in the pod. They’re unharmed.”

  “But you’re free now?” He leaned his face as close to the laser wall as he dared. “You have to get me out of here,” he whispered.

  Good. She’d hoped he would be hungry to make a deal.

  She stepped close, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I will try. You’re going to be called up to speak with Prince Zander today. He already believes everything is Sankro’s fault. All you and Banf need to do is swear it was only his idea and you were forced to go along with it. I’ll testify the same if you’ll do one thing for me.”

  Elit lifted his brows. “What’s that?”

  “You and Banf must tell the prince you’re willing to let me and the young go free. To cut ties with us. That you want to make a fresh start and you’re willing to give us one too.”

  Elit’s face contorted with incredulity. “Why would I do that? You’re my female. They’re our young. And there’s only two Zandian females in the galaxy. I’d be insane to let you go.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Three now. And you have to. Swear it, or I’ll tell Zander you were as much a party to Talia’s kidnapping as Sankro and you’ll all rot in here for the rest of your lives!”

  Elit narrowed his eyes and considered her for a long moment. “Fine.”

  “You’ll renounce all claim on me or the young in front of all and Zander?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Swear it.”

  He lifted his arm at a ninety-degree angle. “Zandian honor.”

  She should have recognized the sardonic tilt of his lips. Later she would review the moment and berate herself for being too quick to accept what she wanted to hear. But Laake was waiting and she needed to get back before he came to check on her. The last thing she needed was Elit to see she had a new male—equate his smell with the ones on her.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you up there later today. Tell Banf what we discussed.”

  “I will. Take care, Eslyn.” His voice sounded mocking, but she ignored it, her back already turned, strides moving swiftly down the corridor, past the other cells.

  “Eslyn!” Sankro shouted as she went by. He tried to reach through the laser to grab her, but it shocked him, throwing him onto his ass on the floor.

  Served the asshole right.

  She didn’t stop to gloat, though, because Laake appeared at a run, pulling her behind his large body, hand on his sword.

  “It’s all right. Let’s go.” She tugged his muscled arm.

  He glared at Sankro a moment longer, but when she fled into the lift, he followed, using his palm to activate the door and take them back to the upper level.

  She didn’t breathe until they reached it, but her relief was short-lived because Damon stood outside th
e lift, arms folded across his large chest, accusation shooting from his eyes. Behind him lurked Granit, his mottled face tight and pained.

  “You took her to the dungeons.” Damon’s voice was low and cool. He spoke to Laake, but his gaze didn’t leave her face.

  “She… has feelings for those males,” Laake explained.

  No! Veck, no. She’d hoped to clear the lie before it got back to the other males.

  If she’d believed their attachment was only physical, her misconception was now clarified by the devastation on both males’ faces.

  “I see.” Damon’s expression turned to stone.

  “No—I just needed to see them. To know they weren’t mistreated. That’s all.”

  “Zandians don’t lie, Eslyn,” Damon minced, taking a step toward her. “It shows a lack of honor. But I suppose being raised away from our kind, you weren’t taught that. It was what we were meant to teach you in your reconditioning.” Misery blanketed his words.

  “Are you going to punish me?” She offered it like a gift, remembering how much he’d relished it last time.

  But he didn’t seem interested. “We’ll discuss it later.” To Laake, he said, “Take her back to her chamber and leave her there until the hearing.”

  Laake’s broad shoulders drooped. He nodded and grasped her elbow, his movements wooden.

  Veck. Her plans were going to backfire completely if her new mates didn’t want to claim her because they believed her heart to be already in play.

  Granit hated—vecking hated—seeing Eslyn’s mates in the Great Hall. He stood beside Damon and Laake, their female a prisoner between them.

  Only two of her former mates had been called up for questioning—Elit and Banf. It seemed Damon’s theory that Zander believed not all three were guilty held true.

  Which one of these veckers did their female care about? Which one had she gone down to see?

  Damon had wanted to punch Laake in the mouth for taking her down there, but Laake had his reasons. He said if Eslyn cared about her ex-mates they’d be veck-offs to keep her from them. Especially considering they’d sired her young. And had bonded during the shared trauma of being the only Zandians left alive on their planet for fifteen years.

  Zander questioned them about their kidnapping of Talia and attempted assault of Tomis. They both played innocent, blaming Sankro, the mate who hadn’t been brought up for questioning yet. Their story didn’t ring true to him. How would Sankro force two males to do his bidding? All they had to do was bond together and they could have overpowered him.

  No, their defense sounded rehearsed and implausible.

  “Eslyn, step forward,” Prince Zander ordered.

  Granit refrained from the urge to pat her ass as they escorted her forward. She may not be theirs for much longer.

  “Are you in agreement that the malice toward Talia and Tomis came mainly from Sankro?”

  “Yes, my lord.” She answered immediately, which should reassure him that the males told the truth, but it didn’t.

  “Do you believe they can contribute to Zandian society if set free?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Again, no hesitation.

  Zander considered the males for a moment. “Elit and Banf, I sentence you to time served. You’ll be sent to the training pod to train as members of my army on a trial basis. If there’s any trouble with you at all, you’ll go back to the dungeons.”

  “With our mate and young.” Banf had the nerve to say it as a statement, not a question.

  Eslyn started, her mouth dropping open, eyes riveted on Prince Zander.

  Granit’s hands clenched into fists at the thought of her leaving with those males.

  Zander lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”

  Elit straightened. “Forgive him, my lord. But we would both very much like to be reunited with our family. We’ve been parted from our mate and young for several planet rotations now.”

  Eslyn shifted on her feet.

  “The training pod is not a suitable environment for young. The children will remain here with their mother. You will be granted visitation before you leave,” Zander proclaimed.

  The two males bowed, but Granit didn’t feel the slightest bit resolved by Zander’s decree. Too many questions remained unanswered. Would Eslyn eventually be returned to her mates? And did she want to be?

  Guilt at their use of her rumbled through him. She’d seemed willing—eager even. She’d enjoyed it—he knew that without a doubt. But if she’d be returned to the other three, would she regret her time with them? Had they managed to complicate her life and tangle her emotions? The idea of her suffering any more as result of their actions killed him.

  “You are dismissed. All of you.” Zander stood from the throne, not waiting for the group gathered to disperse.

  Granit and Laake both looked at Damon, waiting for him to figure out how to fix their broken situation. “Take her back to her chamber,” Damon muttered to them, “then meet me in ours.”

  He nodded and followed Laake and Eslyn. Each step he took, his limp became more pronounced; the pain resulting from scar tissue that was always there now became knife-like.

  They may have to give her up.

  He hadn’t wanted to look at that dark truth before, but now it hung before him, as obvious as a hologram.

  The worst part was the longer they ignored it, the more they’d hurt Eslyn, which was unforgivable.

  They needed to cut her loose right away. He just hoped the other two agreed.

  Eslyn paced around her chamber. Her prison. Laake and Granit had left her there with nary a word and Damon had refused to look at her during the hearing.

  And Elit! That vecker had double-crossed her. She’d done her part and he hadn’t renounced any claim on her or the young. She hated him as much as Sankro. Hated all three of them.

  She would ask to speak with Zander again—recant her testimony.

  Just as soon as her warriors returned.

  She went to the door and pounded on it. Was one of them standing outside it?

  No one answered.

  Curses. Her warriors were angry. No—hurt. They believed she cared about Elit and Banf. And she only had herself to blame for that. Would anything she said even matter now?

  She leaned her forehead against the door and slapped it. A hot tear trickled down her cheek.

  She’d known it had been too good to be true—that she could have mates like Granit, Damon, and Laake instead of the veck-holes she’d been stuck with. She’d known as soon as she let her guard down, as soon as she let herself care, it would all be snatched from her. Just as all forms of security and love had been snatched away for her entire life, starting with her parents and siblings during the invasion.

  Her destiny would forever be strung up with Elit and Banf’s. Their miserable existence would always be hers.

  No, the best thing would be to forget about Granit, Damon, and Laake, the pleasure and care they’d brought her.

  It had been far too much to hope that they’d be hers to keep.

  Chapter 4

  Laake lay backward in his hover disk, his feet propped against the wall. He wanted to kick it like an angry youth. “This doesn’t feel right,” he said for the nineteenth time.

  Neither Damon nor Granit answered him.

  Damon had barely spoken all afternoon, that genius brain of his clearly whirling around their problem, but he had yet to present a solution. And dammit, Damon always had a solution. Laake and Granit depended on him to be Master Fix-it.

  After a short and devastating discussion, Damon had gone to Prince Zander to tell him they considered Eslyn’s reconditioning complete and they recommended she be allowed to move about the pod freely. When Zander agreed, they sent a servant to inform Eslyn.

  Damon stopped his pacing and tapped the wall with his fist. “It doesn’t feel right because we wished to keep her. But putting her well-being before ours is right. It’s the same reason you took her to the dungeon.”

  “I know
.” Knowing didn’t lift the gigantic weight that had settled in the middle of his chest, however.

  “She needs space and freedom to decide what she wants her new life to look like. She won’t be able to think clearly if we’re pressuring her in one direction and her former mates pressure her in another. She has her young to consider. What we did with her wasn’t fair. It felt right at the time, but it was a mistake.”

  “Beast excrement. There’s no way in the galaxy our time with her was a mistake.” Granit’s deep voice rose enough to reverberate through the whole chamber.

  “No.” Damon’s reply was barely audible.

  “What if she doesn’t want space? What if she’s already made her decision?” he pressed, even though they’d been around and around this topic all afternoon.

  Damon drew his fist back and bashed the wall with it. “We can’t pressure her now. Not today when she just learned two of her mates will go free. We give her space. As we already agreed.”

  “It still doesn’t feel right.” He swung his legs down and sat up, running a hand over his face. He swore he still smelled her scent on his skin, making him itch to be near her again. Every time he closed his eyes, images of her sensuous form danced in front of them. Not just her body, though—her smile, her laugh. The sweet way she called them master. “Just let me talk to her—explain our position.”

  “Tomorrow. After she and the young have seen her mates this evening. It’s not right to confuse them.”

  His fingers curled into fists. He couldn’t stand being away from her—not even for a night. It seemed wrong and he couldn’t shake the feeling they were letting her down, even though they were doing this for her.

  “Do you think they’re in her chamber now?” he asked.

  No one asked who they were. All three males were hyper aware of their competition.