Prison Moon - Warlord's Mate: An Alien Abduction Sci Fi Romance

by Lily Graison

  She stood completely naked before him and to his credit, he never looked lower than her face. His hand on her shoulder and a slight nudge to the left was all it took for her to turn and put her back to him.

  He moved her hair away, again draping it over one shoulder before she heard things shifting around on the table. Something cold was laid against her ruined flesh a moment later. She hissed out a breath, the cold water shocking, but she never moved, not even when it became apparent he was washing the dried blood from her back.

  She hadn’t done much of anything for days other than sleep and steal bits of food late at night when Cayen wasn’t in the cooking pits. None of the other females had been allowed in to see her and she knew they’d come. She’d heard them on the other side of the leather door flap. She’d heard Jityria too, ordering them back to work.

  The wounds had been sloppily cleaned. It hurt too much to move so bringing her arm around to wash the blood away had been nearly impossible. It was a miracle the open wounds hadn’t become infected and killed her and she’d finally come to the conclusion that those aliens who’d captured her did more than implant a translator into her head. She’d been unconscious for unknown amounts of time so maybe they’d given her something to prevent it. As far as she knew, none of the captured females were ever sick. She certainly hadn’t been. No one was that she’d seen, so it was the only explanation she could think of as to why the wounds had only crusted over with dried blood and hadn’t become infected.

  Tezhila came back with a steaming cup of liquid, setting it on the table before leaving again without a word. The warlord took his time cleaning her back, his touch soft, and the longer he stood back there tending to her, the twinge of pain every swipe of the cloth made across her back made her think of the day it had happened, and the more she thought about that, the more miserable she felt.

  The pain she’d felt that day had been nothing compared to the pain of having to endure it alone. She’d wanted nothing more than the simple comfort of someone there for her and his image had flashed in her head. She’d wanted him for no other reason than she knew he’d not let anyone else hurt her. Having him back in camp caused the tight pressure that had been in her chest since Darqu had whipped her to let go and relief so profound washed through her body that her eyes started to burn, her throat growing thick as tears filled her eyes. When the first one fell, she whimpered, forcing back the crying fit she knew was moments away.

  Marcy raised her hand to wipe her face but the tears kept falling despite her trying to stop them. When they wouldn’t stop, she covered her mouth to keep him from knowing she was crying but knew it hadn’t worked when his hands stilled.

  She wiped her eyes again as more tears fell, then covered her face with both hands and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

  He moved behind her, his hand brushing her elbow before he pulled her hands from her face. She looked up at him when he hooked one finger under her chin and raised her head.

  His unusual amber-colored eyes looked brighter than normal and his long hair was loose and falling around his face. As dangerous as he usually appeared to her, he looked different now. His beard was shorter, she noticed, but it was more than that. Maybe it was the expression in his eyes. His gaze was—softer. She wouldn’t call it compassion because she wasn’t sure he was capable of it but in this moment, the brutal warlord she’d come to know was staring at her as if she mattered.

  He raised his hand and brushed her tears away, his jaw clenching as more fell to replace them. “I will never let anyone else harm you, this I vow. Darqu will pay for what he did and once I’m finished with him, no one will even be tempted to have an unkind thought where you are concerned. They will not look at you without remembering the pain disobeying me will bring them.”

  The tears fell unchecked as he spoke and she felt vindicated even though nothing had been done. He cupped her cheek in one hand, his gaze roaming every inch of her face before he took a step toward her and lowered his head, his lips brushing against her mouth so softly, she wasn’t even sure one could call it a kiss. He pulled her against his chest then and the moment she was close enough to smell the scent that lingered on his skin, the tears came unbidden. She cried a week’s worth of agony and fear into his shirt as she buried her face against his chest and even though he was barely touching her, it was as if he held her in his arms.

  For the first time since waking up on that spaceship, alone and terrified, she felt safe and protected and finally lifted her arms, wrapping them around his waist and cried for all the shitty things that had happened to her since she ended up who knew where in the galaxy.

  He did nothing but run his fingers through her hair and whisper words against her head so softly she didn’t understand a single one of them. The harsh warlord she’d come to know was suddenly gone, replaced by a man she always wished was there. One who was kind and loving. One who would move mountains for her.

  When the last tear fell, neither moved for a long time, both content to stay there, arms locked around each other. He was the first to pull away, and she lowered her head, suddenly embarrassed for crying all over him.

  He wet another of the small cloths and handed it to her and she laid it against her eyes, the cool water easing some of the burn.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, the warlord behind her cleaning her wounds before smearing something onto the cuts that burned enough she gasped, then shivered as he blew on her back to cool the sting.

  He made her drink every drop of the tea Tezhila brought in and put her in bed naked, the furs barely covering her bottom as the whip had cut into the flesh there too about halfway down one cheek.

  She watched him clean the mess away, tossing the soiled washing cloths into the small basket by the wall before gathering the water skin and bowl and giving her a look and heading outside. He didn’t come back, and she eventually closed her eyes. She dozed off but woke to the sound of a scream so pain filled, it made every hair on her body stand on end.

  The screams lasted well into the night and by the time they were only strangled whimpers, she wondered if Darqu believed her now. She’d told him the warlord would kill him for touching her and from the sounds of it, Jorrick was taking his time about it. The warlord was making an example out of him and she knew, from this day forward, no one would ever touch her again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “He’s still watching you.”

  Marcy raised her eyes to where Krista sat. “He may be staring at you.”

  Her new friend laughed, saying, “doubtful,” before reaching into the bucket of Drexum brains, scooping out more, and spreading it onto the hide they were working on. “He’s not done much of anything for the past week but stare at you.”

  Marcy took a quick glance over her shoulder. Krista was right. The warlord was staring at her. Even though she sat right beside Krista, there was no mistaking who he was watching. The look on his face alone said it was her.

  The past month had been—well, damn weird. She’d slept most of her days away, the warlord making her drink nothing but the strange tea brewed from some super healing herbs. She wasn’t sure what exactly was in it, but the tea knocked her out and caused her to sleep like the dead. Not that she was complaining. Not having to stay bent over the tanning racks or foraging for food, or serving it later, was a dream come true. She’d felt decadent at first. Then grew bored.

  The moment she was healed enough to move, the warlord had allowed her to head to the pond with the other females to bathe and she’d never been so relieved. One more day of being confined in his hut with him would have sent her over the edge.

  When he’d returned from wherever it was he’d gone with the other men in camp, he’d ordered her to gather her things to move into the females hut but it looked as if now, he’d had a change of heart. Since his return, her meals had been brought to his hut by Jityria of all people, and she was sure the only reason she was able to eat it and not wear it was because he w
as always there when her trencher was brought in. That, and he’d started taking his meals there as well.

  The warlord staying there most of the day and eating his meals there made things even more awkward as he didn’t speak more than ten words to her, which begged the question—why did he insist on keeping her company if he wasn’t going to do anything but sharpen his knives? If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was acting like a shy schoolboy but—well, she knew better. There was nothing shy about the warlord at all so, what was it? And why hadn’t he kicked her out yet when she knew full well that’s what he’d wanted when he came back?

  She’d begun to think maybe guilt was why he let her stay but thought better of it. He didn’t look like the type of man to feel guilty about anything. Fear someone else would try to hurt her was the next thing that popped into her head but walking out of the hut and seeing Darqu shot that idea all to hell. No one would be stupid enough to mess with her now after the display the warlord left hanging for all to see.

  She glanced in Darqu’s direction. It had been weeks since he took that whip to her and he still hung by the edge of the camp directly across from the central fire pit, dangling by ropes tied around his wrists and ankles so he was looking down at the ground. She could still hear his screams if she thought about it hard enough, had laid in bed and listened to him scream for days, his torture, she was almost positive, a lesson to them all.

  Krista told her the warlord had finally silenced him by gutting him, then sitting back down in his chair, watching, along with everyone else in camp as Darqu’s innards had slowly fell from his body to flop onto the ground below him. Darqu’s screams had been enough to make Krista and the other females’ skin crawl. Him still hanging there, the stench of his rotting flesh making her gag when the breeze shifted, was proof enough he was a deterrent. The aliens in camp barely even looked at her now, even the two old ones who thought she was there to eat them.

  Marcy looked in the warlord’s direction again, her heart giving a hard thump in her chest when she met his gaze. She’d wondered endlessly why he kept her so close to him, why he insisted she sleep in his bed. The care he’d shown her when he returned led to only one conclusion. He’d taken her from that arena because he’d wanted her. The females said he didn’t sleep with them, yet he’d put her in his bed and kept her there, pulled her close to him every night and she woke every morning, feeling him hard and pressed against her backside. She would have brushed that off as just being a man thing if it hadn’t been for the day under the waterfall when he’d told her to bathe him, then ended up stripping her bare and making her come so hard she still felt tremors if she thought about it hard enough.

  A shiver raced up her spine just thinking about it. He was harsh and killed without blinking an eye but damn her soul she liked how he made her feel. Loved how dainty she felt next to him.

  But he hadn’t touched her in any sexual way since the day at the waterfall and she had no idea why. He still wanted her. She could feel the evidence of it every morning pressed against her backside when she woke but he’d kept his hands to himself. He’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman and truth be known, she was getting tired of waiting. She wanted the warlord who took what he wanted and made no excuses for it. She wanted the man who grabbed her and claimed her in front of an entire camp full of people and dared them to touch her. She wanted Jorrick the barbarian back not this … passive guy who just stared at her with lust in his eyes but did nothing about it.

  He was still watching her and even though she knew it was foolish to tempt the devil, she smiled at him, watching as those strange amber eyes of his glowed even brighter. The warlord may be harsh and ruthless but somewhere under that hard exterior, was a man who wanted her and dammit she was tired of waiting on him. She didn’t know why he was holding back but she’d force his hand if she had to. If he still showed no interest, then so be it, but she’d never know unless she tried. But would teasing a man like him blow up in her face?

  He did nothing for what seemed like hours but sit there and watch her, and the entire time she’d tried to think of ways to provoke him while a voice in the back of her head whispered she was being foolish. He wasn’t the type of man you played games with. She peeked at him over her shoulder. He looked fine as hell today. His hair was loose, a few braids holding it back from his face and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he’d cut his beard shorter. He wore nothing but trousers and that bandolier of knifes across his chest and those long legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

  “Stop thinking about it and just do it.”

  Krista was wearing a smirk when she looked over at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She snorted a laugh. “You’re trying to work up the courage to seduce him.”

  She opened her mouth to say, no she wasn’t, but closed it with a snap. There was little point in lying about it. “Is it that obvious?”

  Krista glanced at the warlord. “If he were interested in me, that’s what I’d be doing.”

  “Well, thinking it and doing it, are two different things.”

  “Surely it can’t be that hard.” Marcy raised an eyebrow and they both laughed. “Well, hopefully that is hard but seducing I meant.”

  “I know how to seduce a man. It's just the—how to go about it that’s got me second guessing myself.”

  “Well, you need to get him alone so walk up to him and tell him what you want.”

  “That’s not seducing. That’s flat out asking. Besides, I don’t want to look obvious. Jityria would probably slit my throat when his back was turned if she knew what I was planning.”

  “True.” Krista stared into the distance, thinking if Marcy had to guess. She turned to her a few moments later. “He told you to stay in camp, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t.” She grinned. “He’s sitting right there. He’ll see you leave and follow you.” Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “What you do after that is up to you.”

  Something in his chest clenched tight when she smiled at him. He hadn’t seen her do that since the night she’d danced for him and as it had that night, the tiny gesture made him want to toss her to the nearest hard surface he could find and bury himself so far inside her he’d never find his way back out. Thoughts of doing just that filled his head. He shifted in his seat when all the blood in his head started traveling south. He looked away, over at Darqu and the sight of him chased away any hint of desire. The rage he still felt when he saw him nearly consumed him but seeing Mar-see sitting with the other females eased most of it.

  He’d not let her do much of anything for a solid turn of the moons other than sleep and heal. The ta’gi leaves had closed her wounds to the point they were now just red streaks across her skin and the pelem bark tea eased her pain enough she was able to sleep without stirring. Her doing so in his bed irked him, but he had no one to be mad at other than himself. He’s the one who put her there and made her stay. And that irked him even more.

  She was a weakness. He knew it was true with nothing more than a passing thought of her. He’d been determined to put her with the other females but now was loath to even think about it. Even though she was completely healed, the thought of her being where he couldn’t see her made him uneasy and that alone should be reason enough to make him march her toward Allok’s camp and taunt him enough they finally had the war he’d been dreaming of. If it weren’t for the loss of life he knew would result in instigating a confrontation, he would have already done it, but most of those within his camp wanted a good reason to risk their life and he knew him being played for a fool by a female wasn’t a good enough reason for them. Allok may have sent Zasra but her being here had harmed no one other than him. Although his men were as bloodthirsty as he was, they needed a damn good reason to bleed and die and his revenge wasn’t enough.

  A commotion near the trees drew his attention. Several scouts coming back and others leaving for
patrol were a constant reminder that those still out looking for Aris hadn’t returned, which meant they more than likely went further into Allok and Othrid’s territories. If they had, then their safety was now in jeopardy and any harm that came to them would fall to him in the eyes of his men, not on Allok or Othrid’s. Their deaths would add to the growing list of others and most days, he couldn’t even remember why he’d fought so hard to be where he is.

  He’d been a commander of a large unit of soldiers back on Tridian III, leading armies with triple the number of men under his command and at one time, was content to live his life fighting but now, he wearied of it. Sentenced to live out the remainder of his life on a prison planet was harsh enough but to do so with criminals as loathsome as the ones who put him here was unbearable most days. Having to constantly look over his shoulder to make sure no one was trying to stab him in the back and having to force others to do his will for no other reason than to show them he was in charge was tiresome. Having to do it alone even more so.

  You don’t have to be alone.

  He turned back to the females. Mar-see tossed her hair over one shoulder and laughed at something the small black haired human said.

  His e’mahn neok was the reason he felt so confused as of late. She made him long for things he’d never have again. He craved them endlessly now that she was here, and he wasn’t sure how to prevent it from consuming him.

  Liar. Taking her to Allok would solve that problem.

  He scowled at his thoughts and shifted in his seat again, glancing away from her only to look back a moment later.

  He watched her for countless bells, his thoughts in a dozen different directions until she stood some time later and stretched, her face twisting into a grimace. The wounds on her back still caused her pain, even though she told him they didn’t. Her insisting she was able to work was the only reason she was with the other females despite his reluctance to let her leave. She was well enough to labor, but he didn’t want her to.