Table of Contents
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Chapter One
Chapter two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Tharan Warrior Ménage Book 3
Claiming Their Mate
Tharan Warrior Ménage Book 5
By Kallista Dane
Copyright February 2018 Claiming Their Mate by Kallista Dane
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Editor: Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing
Cover Artist: Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
Published in the United States of America
This e-book is a work of fiction. While references might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book contains descriptions of many sexual practices but this is a work of fiction and as such should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained herein.
Table of Contents
Get Your Free Book Here
Chapter One
Chapter two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Their Captive Mate: a Sci-fi Alien Dark Romance
Theirs to Tame: a Sci-fi Alien Dark Romance
Punishing Their Mate: A Dark Alien Romance Novella
Mastering Their Mate
A note from Kallista
About the Author
More Books by Kallista Dane
Punishing Their Mate
Tharan Warrior Ménage Book 3
A Dark Alien Romance Novella
Read Punishing Their Mate now!
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Chapter One
Delta
She gave him an icy stare.
Not the easiest thing to do while stripping her shirt off. But she was determined not to let the disgusting alien see how frightened she was.
Dead black eyes, empty of all emotion, ran up and down her body. He was covered head to toe in a dull gray cloak the same color as the cargo bay of his beat-up transport cruiser. His skin was gray, too, judging from his face and hands, the only parts of his body visible. So his reaction was all the more shocking when she pulled off the tunic of her work uniform and he got his first glimpse of her naked breasts.
The mouth in his gray face opened, and a skinny, shocking-pink tongue ran over his blue-gray lips.
Delta shivered. The four-foot tall creature may have been from an alien world, but lecherous males were the same all over the Universe.
“Take off your lower garment.”
That’s what the Tellex chip imbedded in her skull right behind her left ear told her brain. What she heard was a series of hisses and grunts, ending with Garez’s pink tongue wiggling out of the hole in his gray face as though he’d partially swallowed a huge worm.
She couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, so she fixed her eyes on a row of steel-gray rivets in the hull. The Tellex chip didn’t translate the low growl he made when she stepped out of her trousers, but she didn’t need one. She’d learned to interpret the sounds of male arousal all by herself.
The creature pointed. “More dark hair. But not long and shiny like on her head. Short. Thick.”
The slave trader came closer, and she tried not to flinch when he stretched out a gray finger and probed the mass of tight curls between her legs. “She has a pleasure portal here.”
She’d tried to block out the others in the room, but it became impossible to pretend they weren’t there when rough hands seized her from behind. Two of Garez’s guards.
She struggled, but she was no match for them. Though small in stature, the aliens were incredibly strong. Delta fought down a flash of rage. She hated feeling helpless, but she knew she had to go along, pretend to accept meekly whatever treatment Garez meted out. She’d endure this humiliation to conserve what little strength she had left until an opportunity to escape presented itself.
The old Delta would have lashed out, kicking and punching the minute they touched her. She’d have fought the aliens, even though she had no chance of winning since they outnumbered her ten to one. But, for weeks, she’d subsisted on barely enough rations to keep her alive, giving half her food to Jisa. The female from Draconis M-34 was pregnant, and she needed every ounce of nourishment she could get to keep both her and the litter she carried alive. Jisa and Garez’s other captives weren’t part of her crew, but she couldn’t shed a lifetime of stepping up and taking leadership. Besides, in this alien world, females had to stick together.
Garez waved a hand, and the guards holding her spun her around with her back to the room. One shoved her head down, bending her over, while the other grabbed the cheeks of her ass and spread them apart.
More hisses and grunts from the leader. “Another pleasure portal for your master. That makes three, counting the one in her face.”
Bent over with her back to the room, she couldn’t see Lord Axum’s envoy. But she heard him. High-pitched whining noises drilled into her head, thankfully drowned out when the translation began.
“Three pleasure portals is hardly a novelty. My lord owns some who have four or five. But I’ll grant you, the patch of hair might amuse him. I’ll give you six bibasa.”
“Six! I risked my life boarding the Earther space pirate’s vessel. He could have killed me and my entire crew instead of selling her to me as he promised. After all, we know nothing of these aliens who call themselves humans. They may not be an honorable race, like you Borvaani. I need at least twenty bibasa.”
Garez’s voice dropped conspiratorially, as if the men holding her wouldn’t be able to hear every word. “I’ll give you a bill of sale for thirty-seven. Present it to your master, and you can pocket the difference.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath from the alien on her right side. Delta had no idea what a bibasa was equal to back on Earth, but based on the surprised reaction from the alien gripping her bottom cheeks, she guessed that Garez, the gray slave trader, was aiming for a huge payoff on this transaction.
“The moment I saw her,
I thought of Lord Axum.” Garez went on with his pitch, anxious to close the sale. “She’ll be the star of his harem. No one in the entire Krion Sector owns a human. Most of the known worlds have never even seen one. This Earther’s rear portal is much tighter than that of the females in the rest of my inventory. Come here. Feel for yourself. Why, I can barely get a finger in...”
Delta bit off a cry as a cold slimy digit probed the tight pucker of her ass. Her plan of feigning meek subservience disappeared as years of training kicked in. She lashed out with one foot, sweeping the legs from under the alien holding her head down. Momentum carried her around, and she drove an elbow into the midsection of the one spreading her bottom cheeks apart then wrapped both hands around the scrawny neck of the slave trader.
A white-hot bolt of agony shot through her, sending her to her knees. Garez moved a metal cylinder from her chest to her temple, and she screamed as pain flooded her head.
“You stupid cow!”
“Stop.” Lord Axum’s envoy stepped in, knocked the cylinder away from her head. “My lord prefers females who are unsullied as additions to his harem. One who fights like this rather than submitting to you is not likely to have allowed others access to her rear portal. He will enjoy the challenge of conquering this female. Dress her and prepare her for the journey.”
The crushing pain eased, leaving behind a pounding ache. Delta replayed the envoy’s last words in her head. She’d been in so much agony she hadn’t processed anything translated by the Tellex chip. It sounded as though the representative from Borvaan planned to purchase her despite her display of defiance.
She tried to get to her feet, but Garez moved the metal cylinder to a spot on her neck below her right ear. She felt a sharp stabbing pain. The room went dark just as the floor rose up and smacked her in the face.
Chapter two
Delta opened her eyes – then slammed them shut again. Her head felt like it had been cleaved by an axe, and the blinding light made the pain worse. She took a few deep breaths, fighting back a wave of dizziness, and took stock of her surroundings.
She was flat on her back, lying on a thin mat. Under it, a hard surface jerked and rocked beneath her. Definitely not Garez’s transport cruiser. There was a nasty smell coming from somewhere, carried on the current of hot air pouring over her body. The combination made her nauseous.
She put one hand over her eyes and peeked out from a slit between her fingers. Dusty brown bathed in a white glare so hot and bright it hurt to look at it. She groaned.
Close by, she heard whining again. Lord Axum’s envoy was speaking. She struggled to get past the irritating sounds drilling into her brain and make sense of the words.
“Long time… drink?”
“Yes. Please.” Her throat was so dry, she could barely form the words. It was a shock to hear the strange croaking noise coming out of her mouth. Although the chip seamlessly translated everything she said into Borvaani, her voice didn’t have the same high-pitched whine as that of her companion. Thank the Goddess. I couldn’t bear it if I sounded like a siturbium drill every time I opened my mouth.
He lifted her head and held a smelly animal-skin flask to her mouth. She turned away in disgust, but he poured a few drops from it over her lips. The liquid was cool and soothing, and she opened her mouth.
Not water. A strong, unfamiliar herbal taste with a hint of bitterness. Still, she welcomed the relief as it trickled down her parched throat.
After a few more sips, the headache subsided enough for her to struggle to a sitting position. The envoy’s arm supported her back, and she risked opening her eyes another crack. They were in a huge woven basket sitting on a wooden platform strapped to the back of a lumbering beast with a thick leather-like hide. Now I understand the smell – and the jerky rocking motion. It’s like riding on the back of a super-sized elephant. A flat, dusty brown plain stretched out around her in all directions, stark and barren under the glaring yellow sun.
“Where are we?”
“We are traveling across the Kalian Desert on Borvaan.”
“Borvaan? Where’s Garez? And his ship?”
Her companion made a huffing sound in his nose that reminded her of a mare whinnying. “That gray creature? He and his trash heap of a ship are halfway across the vector by now. You’ve been out for three rotations. In fact, I’m surprised you’re awake so soon. Most alien females stay asleep until we reach the citadel.”
She whipped her head around and groaned as another stab of pain hit her.
“Careful. The effects of Garez’s sleeping tonic take time to fade away.”
“Sleeping tonic my ass. If I’ve been comatose for three days, he injected me with a highly potent drug. And since I was the first Earther he bought, it’s one that’s never been used on humans before. If he does this all the time, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s accidentally killed some of his captives while trying to subdue them.”
The Borvaani gave another dismissive huff. “Our world is a harsh one. Not all aliens can survive here. Better to die an easy death asleep than a slow, agonizing one awake.”
Delta bit off the angry retort she’d been about to make. The envoy had stopped Garez from torturing her. He’d given her something to drink, even helped her sit up. He’d treated her with more decency than anyone had shown since Magnus took her and her fellow crew members captive back on the Luna. There was no point making an enemy of someone whose help she might need to escape.
Shading her eyes from the glare, she took a good look at her traveling companion. The Borvaani was swathed in a long white robe with a hood thrown over his head for protection from the vicious rays of the sun. Shrewd black eyes peered back at her. He had a long, narrow face and leathery sun-bronzed skin. He seemed small in stature under the voluminous robe, as though the unforgiving dry heat had baked all the excess flesh from his bones.
The basket jolted sideways. She put out a hand to steady herself and noted with surprise that her arm was covered down to the fingertips in a white sleeve. Though the cloth was thin and light, she realized how much protection it offered when the sun’s rays landed on her exposed fingers. It felt like she’d just been hit by a flamethrower. Delta gasped and jerked her hand back, pulling her fingers deep into the wide sleeve.
She glanced down and realized at some point while she slept her escort had clothed her in a robe like the one he wore. Though she found the idea of being touched by the alien disturbing, she was grateful for the protection it offered.
“Thank you for giving me this garment.”
Her companion shrugged. “It is necessary to cover one’s body outdoors. You would not have survived long without it.”
She took another look at her surroundings. Brown-beige sand stretched to the horizon, relieved only by an occasional dull-ochre pile of rock. No signs of life. No sun-loving snakes slithering along. No telltale signs of a burrowing sand creature marred the landscape. Not even an outcropping of spindly twigs from a gray-green plant struggling to survive.
Even with the heat, she shivered at the desolation around her.
“The creature carrying us. How does it manage to withstand the heat?”
“The yamila have lived in the desert for millions of cycles. They evolved as our world grew hotter. Their hides provided natural protection from the sun, but now it has grown so fierce that even these creatures cannot bear it for more than a day at a time. It is from yamila that we make the fabric for our robes and the canopy you see above you.”
“How long is our journey?”
“A few hours more. We must be inside the walls of the city before nightfall.” He shook his head. “No one ventures into the desert after dark.”
“Since we will be traveling companions for a while longer, may I know your name?”
He gave a slight nod. “I am Fatar, galactic envoy of the Borvaani empire of Lord Axum.”
She inclined her head as well. “I am Delta Graystone, first mate
of the Earther ship Luna.” She held out both hands toward him, palms up, and repeated the traditional Andromedan greeting used throughout the galaxy when meeting an alien species for the first time. “Blessings and peace to you and to all sentient creatures in the Universe.”
Instead of extending his own hands and giving her the usual response, he frowned. “Your species mates with transport vehicles?”
She stared at him for a moment, then recognition dawned. “No no no. First mate is the Earther term for second in command on a military vessel.”
“You are in the military?”
She nodded. “I am an officer in the Interstellar Federation.”
“Do you have a mate on your world?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. He was taking her to the ruler of Borvaan. Most likely to serve as a sex slave, judging from Garez’s sales pitch during the inspection she’d been subjected to. Was he asking if she had someone who might come looking for her? Or was he asking if she was a virgin? She decided to answer the specific question he’d asked.
“No, I’ve never married.”
“Good. Lord Axum places great value on unsullied merchandise.”
“Yes, so you said earlier,” she responded drily.
He narrowed his eyes, but she stared back at him innocently. Fortunately, the Tellex chip translating her words into his language didn’t pick up sarcasm.
“Can you tell me about Lord Axum – and the place we’re going?”
Fatar took a swig from the animal-skin flask, handed it to her, and waited for her to drink before replying. She held her breath and gulped down a mouthful. The skin itself didn’t seem to have a foul odor, and now that she’d had time to acclimatize herself somewhat, she realized the smell was probably coming from the creature carrying them. I imagine they don’t have water to spare to wash these animals. I should consider myself fortunate that Fatar doesn’t stink, too.
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