Dane: A Scifi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 3

by Ashley L. Hunt

“My brother was Elder when we made our journey from Albaterra to Earth. He made me Elder in his place when he returned home.”

  “Why did he return?”

  Dane looked at me with reservation on his handsome face. “He was injured,” he explained slowly. Then, speaking in a strained voice of reluctance, he added, “And he fell in love.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and I gaped at him. “With—with a human? He fell in love on the mission?”

  “Yes.” His chains clanked against the chair as he shifted his weight again, but he didn’t look away. I was quickly learning that A’li-uud were keen on eye contact, or at least Dane was. “He put many years of unwavering dedication into the Elderhood. He wanted to put that same amount of dedication into her.”

  I was rendered speechless. It became known when our astronauts returned from the resource mission with knowledge of the A’li-uud that one of their crew had remained behind because she’d fallen for one of the aliens. However, I never would have fathomed one of those who incited war on our planet falling in love with a human he was supposed to kill. Frankly, I would have found it unbelievable if I’d heard it from the news or some of my co-workers. Coming from Dane, however, it was every bit as believable as my own name.

  “That’s commendable,” I murmured.

  “Perhaps,” he replied, suddenly cool. “But it leaves us with thousands of stranded warriors and no authority.”

  9

  Dane

  “If you’re an Elder, aren’t you the authority?”

  Roxanne’s question was a reasonable one, and it helped me to shift my mind from the way her lashes curved over the rounds of her cheeks when she looked down to a topic more relevant to our meeting.

  “In some ways, yes,” I said slowly, thinking carefully about how to explain. “However, my brother made me Elder with a blood-to-blood ritual. It is ancient practice used in rare circumstances when imminent death or danger necessitates a transfer of Elderhood to a blood relative. Traditionally and in almost all cases, Elderhood is bestowed by the power of the Council. I will not have the full power of Elder, nor the true authority until I am granted with such by the Council.”

  “But I thought your brother abdicated because he was in love,” Roxanne said quietly. I was enveloped into the lush greenery of her eyes as she locked her gaze on mine.

  “He did,” I replied with equal softness. “And it is for that reason I may not be made a true Elder after all. The Council may choose to name another as such.”

  Her lips moved as though she was on the verge of speaking, but nothing came out except a slow breath. I could smell her sweetness from across the table just as potently as I had the last time we’d met. Had I not been chained and shackled, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from leaping forward and taking her mouth as my own with the kiss we’d almost shared.

  Unfortunately, that was not an option.

  “Those are my demands,” I said coarsely, drawing our conversation back to the initial topic.

  Confusion crossed Roxanne’s graceful features for a brief moment before understanding filled in the gaps. She nodded and tapped a long, feminine fingernail on the file in front of her. “So you wish to be released, along with your warriors, and provided a ship to collect stranded A’li-uud before returning to your planet?” she confirmed.

  “Yes.”

  “And that will ensure a truce?”

  My brows furrowed together. “No,” I said. “That will ensure I return to those with authority to agree to a truce.”

  She leaned back a bit, flattening the sheet of raven hair behind her against the chair’s backrest, and pressed the pad of her index finger to one corner of her mouth. She had returned to her no-nonsense, businesslike demeanor, and I realized the purposeful look on her face stimulated me just as much as the innocence. Determination and stern persistence radiated from her in ripe waves. I could see in her the makings of a good Montemban warrior.

  “I’m sorry, Dane,” she said steadily. “I don’t think my superiors are going to go for that.”

  “Your superiors have no choice,” I retorted a little snappishly.

  Something flashed across her face, a wisp of temper or perhaps even defensiveness for her compatriots. Her sensual lips flattened into a thin line, and her gemstone eyes turned to razors. Her tone, however, remained casual.

  “There are two in this room, and only one is free to come and go as she pleases,” she pointed out. If her face hadn’t been shadowed with anger, it would have been a simple observation. “I believe, sir, you are the one with no choice.”

  Had she been one of my warriors, I would have thrown her in a cell for a month as punishment for her insubordination. Had she been one of my citizens, I would have ordered her two weeks of hard labor in the fields for disrespect to an Elder. Had I not been restrained, I would have thrown her onto the table and shown her just how many choices I had. As I was at the mercy of her and the soldiers outside the door, however, I merely growled and tried to readjust my sudden erection by shuffling my hips from side to side in the chair.

  The growl seemed to have an effect on her. The divots of her collarbone, which were visible over the squared neckline of her blouse, flowered with a whisper of pink, and her fragile jaw loosened just enough to drop her lower lip open. Her high-handed poise slipped for an instant and gave way to the innocence beneath, stealing her control and gifting it back to me. I took it greedily and tried to ignore the pulsing in my groin.

  “My demands are non-negotiable,” I said, my voice nearly as low as my growl had been. “Either you will grant them, or you will stand aside and allow the tirade to continue until every last human has been destroyed.”

  Roxanne’s chest lifted and fell in rapid succession as she breathed short, shallow breaths. Whether they were borne of fear or something else, I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t ask. I held my gaze firmly on hers and silently impressed upon her how serious I was. After nearly a minute, she brushed a hand through her long midnight tresses and cleared her throat.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” she replied with measured calm. “What I don’t understand is why.”

  “I told you. I must return to Albaterra to meet with the Council about your peace treaty.”

  “No, I know that,” she said hurriedly, waving a dismissive hand. “I meant I don’t understand why you intend to continue attacking us, or why you attacked us in the first place.”

  This surprised me into momentary silence, and I blinked at her several times before compiling an answer. “I assumed you knew the reason for that already. Humans found out about us and brought that knowledge back to Earth.”

  “Because you let them.”

  Again, I was surprised. “Of course we did. We are not a race to kill for the sake of killing,” I said.

  Her dark eyebrows shot up to such a height that they nearly disappeared into her hairline, and she pulled her head back as though stunned or repulsed. “What do you think you’re doing right now?” she cried. Her voice was high-pitched and disbelieving. “What are A’li-uud all around the world killing for at this very moment, if not just for the sake of killing?”

  “The Council has studied humans for a millennium. They have witnessed the atrocities, and the destruction humanity is capable of doing to its own species. To believe humans would discover a race of beings and a planet more prosperous and renewable than Earth without attempting to invade and conquer for themselves would be, the Elders feel, naïve. We were ordered to eliminate the threat before the risk became imminent.”

  “You don’t see how paranoid that is?” Roxanne demanded. She actually gripped the edge of the table as she spoke, her knuckles turning white with intensity. “And how impetuously preemptive? Not to mention savage!”

  “I am a warrior, a servant to my Elder and the Council. I do as I am bidden,” I answered loftily.

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not. Maybe you were just a warrior when you were sent here, but
you’re an Elder now. You have some power.” I stilled at her words. I had spent so many years in service to my father, and then my brother that I’d forgotten I was now an authority in the heat of our discussion. She pressed on relentlessly. “Do you really agree with all of this? Do you really think this bloodshed is a necessary evil?”

  For the first time since arriving on Earth—and, in fact, the first time in my life—I questioned the Council. As the weight of her incredulity burdened my shoulders, I allowed myself to consider the possibility that, perhaps, our wise government had chosen a path to the detriment of us all.

  “I cannot answer that. I have not had enough time to think about it,” I told her. “Whatever their failings, the Council exists to ensure the safety and well-being of our race. It is not in the A’li-uud nature to doubt the pillars of our peaceful world. Nothing has ever prompted me to doubt before. You are the first.”

  “I don’t believe you support this,” she said stubbornly. Her creamy-white face was twisted in a grimace of distaste. “I don’t even think you need to think about it. I believe you know in your heart right now, at this very minute, that what you were ordered to do is very, very wrong.”

  A strange tingling suddenly spiked the hairs on the back of my neck, but I ignored the sensation. “Either way,” I said tersely, “the war will not end unless I can get to the Council. I am going to need that ship.”

  10

  Roxanne

  Part of me didn’t want to help him.

  Part of me did.

  I’d left the second meeting with Dane feeling so torn within myself that I truly had no idea what I was going to do. It was my obligation to report to my superiors everything that had been said in the meeting, but I didn’t want to be the messenger of this particular message. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and I was going to do it.

  I hadn’t been able to comprehend Dane’s logic when we’d gotten into the discussion of why the war was happening, and I definitely couldn’t believe the highest powers of his race would be so rash in their decision-making. Then again, as he’d pointed out, humans often made the very same mistake leading to traumatic consequences. Perhaps I wasn’t the person to judge, but I couldn’t help feeling like everything our planet was suffering was out of baseless fear.

  To make matters more complicated, I was now more interested in the pale blue alien leader than I’d already been. It was no longer just lustful infatuation. He’d unwittingly revealed parts of himself, morals and virtues and behaviors, which drew me in like a moth to a flame. When he’d told me he was a servant to his Elder and his Council, I’d thought he was being foolish, but I’d simultaneously admired the deep-seated loyalty that had burst out of him at that moment. When he’d told me he’d never questioned his government leaders before, I’d thought him to be naïve and purposefully ignorant, but I’d respected his unwavering trust and faith.

  Of course, the carnal side of him that threatened to crack through the surface was as magnetic as anything else, too.

  I recalled the sound of his throaty growl, and the space between my thighs instantly heated. Reliving the near-kiss and realizing just how little it would have taken to bring it to fruition sent tingles through my entire body, as well as a healthy dose of frustration. No matter how hard I tried to tell myself it wasn’t true, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Dane was dripping with sex appeal, and I had a primal need to lap him up.

  “Ms. Rigby.”

  The voice jolted me from my intimate thoughts, and embarrassment washed over me in place of arousal. I looked up to see Armando Lowell with General Morgan in tow. Getting to my feet, I extended my hand to Lowell.

  “Hello, Mr. Lowell. It’s nice to see you again,” I said politely as he took my hand and shook it. His palm was hot and clammy.

  “You too, Rigby.” He popped his lips on the last syllable of my surname, spattering microscopic droplets of spittle on my face.

  Armando Lowell was the Associate Administrator for Strategy and Plans at NASA. He was a short man with a small head, a round middle, and a habit of adjusting his round tortoiseshell glasses when he spoke. In the five meetings I’d had with him since taking the position of Ambassador, he’d worn the same outfit every time; a straw-colored tweed jacket, chocolate-brown trousers, a deep crimson tie over a simple white button-down shirt, and scuffed brown loafers. I still wasn’t used to his quirkiness, but I never felt uncomfortable in his presence.

  General Morgan, on the other hand, seemed to make it his mission to make me feel uncomfortable. The moment Lowell and I released hands, Morgan swooped in and scooped up my hand like he owned it. I stiffened at once, shooting him the most scathing look I could muster, but he merely smiled back at me with a leering smile.

  “How are you, Roxanne?” he asked. His tone was dripping with venomous honey, and my stomach churned with revulsion at the sound.

  “It’s Ms. Rigby,” I replied stiffly, trying to pull my hand from his.

  His smile widened, and, after a moment, he let go. I resisted the urge to wipe my palm on my skirt and, instead, turned back toward Lowell. He was pulling a chair out from the far end of the table, which was large enough to seat sixteen people comfortably. We were in a luxurious, modern conference room in a building several blocks away from my office. It was another meeting of the Board, and I was about to present Dane’s demands.

  The Board of Universal Exploration and Operations was a panel of sixteen highly-qualified people established shortly after I’d been offered the position of Ambassador of Alien Relations. It was made up of military personnel, government officials, aerospace experts, and several representatives from countries around the world. I was not a member of the Board myself, but I was present for most meetings and was often permitted to offer my input on various topics. It was the Board who would decide if Dane’s demands would be met and how to proceed.

  “Have the others arrived?” I asked Lowell, who was now seated, wiping his lenses on his tie.

  “Most of them are down in the lobby,” he informed me absently, squinting at his glasses. “Petrov and Chen will be video conferencing, but I think Yamamoto’s still in the States. He should be here.”

  He was, along with the rest. Petrov and Chen were indeed video conferencing as Lowell suggested, their places at the table occupied by sleek tablets propped up on stands and their faces slightly grainy. I sat at the head of the table, not because I was running the meeting but because I had something to present, and seeing the chain of serious faces all the way down the length of the room sent my stomach into somersaults.

  I was barely listening as they ran through the formalities of beginning the meeting, my mind occupied by thoughts of Dane. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I returned to the present and became aware that all eyes were on me.

  “Right,” I mumbled, flipping the front flap of my folder open and glancing down at the paper on top. Then, I gathered myself and looked up to the men in front of me. “As you all know, Dane was unwilling to discuss a peace treaty when we first met. I have since held another conference with him, and he demonstrated an openness to the topic he lacked the first time. This is good news for us in reaching our goal to end the war between humans and A’li-uud.”

  Nobody blinked, and all eyes stayed locked on me. I swallowed hard and continued.

  “Dane informed me that the governmental structure of his race dictates consideration of a truce only to be had by a Council of Elders. He insisted he is unable to authorize a ceasefire without the consent of the Council.”

  Still, the Board was unblinking, and I felt my nerves come to a head as I broached the part I’d been so nervous about.

  “He is willing to present our offer of peace to the Council, but he is unable to do so from Earth. To that end, he is requesting a ship.”

  My breath seemed to leave me in a great rush as I said the thing I’d been most reluctant to say, but it was short-lived. Every man around the table swelled with indignation, and they finally tore their eyes from
me to exchange outraged looks amongst one another. While I did not wish them to be angry, I hoped their animosity was for Dane’s demand and not for my gall of even announcing such a notion to them. It appeared to be the former.

  “He expects us to agree to arm our enemy with our own assets?”

  “What a nerve!”

  “It’s bullshit,” General Morgan snarled. “He just wants to get ahold of one of our ships so he can take it back to his freak planet and show his Council what they’re up against.”

  “There’s more,” I went on. “He’s asking for his freedom, of course, and the release of his warriors. He also made the demand that, upon receipt of the ship, he is permitted to circumnavigate the globe and return A’li-uud to their respective ships. His final demand is that he and the other A’li-uud are granted immunity from attack, defensive or otherwise, in their return to Albaterra.”

  Louder cries of outrage filled the room, but I held up my hand to silence them. I was not a member of the Board and held no authority over Board decisions, but I had to say my final point. It was an opinion, not one of Dane’s demands, but I thought it deserved vocalizing.

  “At the end of the day, we want this war to end. If we refuse Dane’s demands, it will continue. If we grant him his requests, the A’li-uud will leave. Whether they intend to make peace or not, giving Dane the ship and allowing his people to evacuate will provide us the one thing we’re hoping for: their departure.”

  11

  Dane

  The ship was primitive compared to the crafts of the A’li-uud, but it was sufficient. I ran my hand over the outer shell, which was made of foreign and weak metal, and frowned with distaste. How the humans managed to make it into Albaterra’s galaxy in the first place was beyond me.

  “You cannot possibly think this will bring us home,” Lokos scoffed. He was looking at the ship with as much disgust as I felt.