Alien Commander's Chosen Complete Collection

by Erin Tate

  Yare was a different matter altogether.

  In her heart, she knew the fault for her injuries couldn’t be laid at Yare’s feet. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t appeal to his sympathies and guilt.

  Evil? Yes.

  Necessary? Hell yes.

  They rounded another corner, Kede baring his teeth at yet another errant male.

  “You know, you attract more flies with honey.”

  Now that glare was directed at her. “I do not want any flies or Doshans near your honey.” His lips tightened, eyes flaring brightly. “It is mine alone.” He tightened his hold ever so slightly. “Do you hear me? Mine.”

  “For the love of—” She didn’t get to say anything else because suddenly they were at the door to the dining hall, the familiar gray panel sliding into the wall to grant them entrance… into the completely silent dining hall.

  Not because it was empty. No, because literally every male in the room seemed to freeze in place and stare. At them. Screw that, they stared at her with her dark skin and mismatched eyes and big ass, because holy shit, how could they not look at her ass when he held her cradled in his arms. It was just hanging there. Big and jiggly and big.

  She was repeating herself because they were staring.

  “Put me down,” she hissed at Kede.

  He glared back and held her tighter.

  “I mean it,” she tried again.

  Kede simply turned left and strode down one of the rows of tables. “I’m sure you do.”

  Murmurs followed in their wake, over a three hundred pairs of glowing eyes tracking their movements through the large room.

  …Terran…

  …Doshan…

  …Female…

  …Abomination…

  Joyce didn’t have a problem with whispers in general, even when they were about her in particular. So she ignored them and Kede seemed to as well. At least until that last word hit the air.

  In all honesty, she wasn’t a big fan of it either, but his hatefire burned a little bit hotter. She glanced at his face, at the harsh lines of growing rage etched into his features, and she realized a little bit was a lot of a bit which really meant fuckton.

  Carefully, just as gently as he’d been since she was injured, he lowered her feet to the ground. His arm stayed around her waist until she was steady on her feet and then he released her to stroke her cheek. She would have sighed happily if he hadn’t looked like he was ready to slaughter every man in the room. Because, really, blood was not sexy.

  Even if he was.

  “One moment, my harae,” he murmured and she reminded herself to talk to Yare ASAP.

  With that final touch, his attention shifted to the room at large. Kede gestured at a nearby guard and the male jumped forward, racing to his commander’s side. Low murmurs reached her, but the specific words were lost in the crowd’s murmur. Apparently since he wasn’t paying attention to his men, they felt it was acceptable to return to chatting.

  The moment he finished with the guard and the male jogged off, Kede crossed his arms over his chest and glared at every male in the room.

  “I spoke with Resane and while you did not hear my words, I know you heard them from him. And the order is that all females, Terran and Doshan, are to be treated as the treasures they are. Stand now if these words did not reach your ears.” He didn’t have to speak loudly, didn’t even raise his voice, yet every warrior in the room heard him. Heard him and about to piss their pants because, holy shit, the man was scary.

  The door whooshed open and the guard who’d left moments ago returned with a highly polished, black lacquered box. It was at least as long as her arm. Really, it was as long as Kede’s arm and the man had some arms.

  “Thank you, Trelo.”

  The guard bowed and then returned to his post along the wall.

  She let her attention flow over the gathering, noting the previously flushed faces of the gathered warriors were now pale and drawn. Every single one. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the warriors were terrified.

  Terri-fucking-fied.

  Cradling the box in his palms, he stepped toward a nearby table, not smiling when the men seated there scrambled to get out of the way as if it were a deadly snake.

  Or pepper laced chocolate. Then again, it was only her who’d nearly died. From chocolate. Chocolate.

  Joyce drew her thoughts from death by alien chocolate when Kede spoke.

  “Centuries ago, when poison filled our skies and women died between one breath and the next, the council was formed. And with the council came the Kerosa.” He pressed his thumb to the edge of the container and everyone in the room jumped when the lock released. “And with the Kerosa, came the satisfaction of debts, proof of honor, defense of our females. Not just our mothers or sisters. But all females. Including our haraes.”

  Joyce couldn’t translate Kerosa, but when Kede opened the little, shiny black box and paired what she saw with his words, she didn’t think this whole dramatic scene would end well.

  At all.

  He reached into the box and withdrew a knife. Not just any knife, but a seriously long, curved blade that looked like it could lop off someone’s head without a problem. He tested the edge of the blade with his thumb and then snared a piece of fruit from a nearby male’s tray.

  “These are the blades of the House Tria. As the leader of my House, I carry them with me, always prepared to defend those within my House. It is a heavy burden and a joy because I am trusted. I am worthy.” Kede tossed the fruit into the air and the target split the very moment it met metal. Even the tough seed at the center sliced cleanly through. “Hmm… Still as sharp as when they last tasted blood.”

  Oh, this was not going to end well.

  “Hassee, when did my father use these?” He sounded so calm. As if he discussed the weather.

  Yeah, so not good.

  Ambassador Haspava stepped forward, pretending to think. Joyce had no doubt the man knew Kede’s game and knew exactly when these Ginsu knives were last flashed.

  “I believe it was when he ended the Jolak House for insulting your mother. He called her a harvoc.” Hassee peered around Kede and spoke to her. “I believe that is a whore in your language, Mistress Tria-se.”

  Kede snapped his fingers of his free hand. “You’re right. I’d forgotten. Thank you for the reminder, Hassee.” He twirled one of the knives while he reached down and grabbed its match. “Now, these recently tasted the blood of one unworthy male. By the markings on the blades, they’ve satisfied over three thousand challenges for satisfaction. These blades were not drawn for debts, for the Tria House has never been in another’s debt. They have never been drawn for honor, for our House’s honor is without question. But they have been unsheathed to defend our females. Which is why they are here today.”

  Oh shitsnacks. This was so not good.

  “Kede,” she whispered and eased forward. “Kede, you don’t have to…”

  He turned his head, his glare coming to rest on her before softening the tiniest bit. “One moment, my harae. This should not take long.”

  The snort was near silent, barely audible above her own breathing, but it was enough for Kede. Because then the man who’d held her so tenderly and carefully during her recovery went bat-mother-fucking-shit crazy.

  One minute he stared at her, those purple and blue eyes locked on hers and the next minute… Well, he was still looking at her but one of those shiny deadly knives flew across the area, flying through the air and right at a warrior on the opposite side of the room. The blade caught the man’s collar, piercing the fabric and pinning him to the wall.

  Then Kede—crazy, freaky alien—winked at her, a small grin on his face that grew with snarls coming from the pinned man.

  Kede shouldn’t be so damned cheerful about killing someone. Seriously. That was just too much. And knives? What the hell was up with that? They were an advanced, civilized-ish race, and they were whipping out blades like Terran guys whipped out t
heir dicks.

  “Ambassador Haspava, will you bear witness?” Kede turned and faced the man still pinned.

  “Of course, Commander Tria-se.” Hassee tilted his head, acting like Kede wasn’t about to gut a man.

  This was so not happening. “Kede. You can’t help stupid people. We came to eat and visit with Yare. This,” she waved her hand toward Captain Dumbass, “this doesn’t matter. He’s nothing to me. Hell, at this point, he’s less than nothing to everyone else.” She glared at the male glaring at her. “I mean, really, you’re gonna go at a guy who has these knife-sharp-y things hanging around. Is idiot next to your name in the Doshan dictionary?”

  Oh, Captain Dumbass hissed at her. There went his chance at survival. “You’re an abomination. Our Commander should not claim someone such as you. Corglak.”

  Joyce didn’t have a translation for that one, but she imagined it wasn’t good because that was the straw that broke the Doshan’s back.

  Kede roared, the sound vibrating through everything in the room and as one, every occupant clearing a path between her super-pissed alien and future dead meat. Tables went sliding and chairs flying as he raced through the room and toward his target.

  “Stand before me and present or cry.” Kede ripped the blade from the wall and shoved it at the stumbling male.

  Joyce was right behind him, racing toward the building confrontation. She didn’t know what the hell she was gonna do to put an end to this cavemen in space routine, but people did not go around hacking at each other over a chick being called a whore. Well, no, harvoc was whore… She searched her memory for the translation. So, slut? Right, he called her a slut. Ass. Hole.

  “Kede, wait—” A large arm wrapped around her waist, restraining her, yet gentle.

  “Silence, Mistress Tria-se.” Yare’s voice filled her ear and she was about to tear into this man if he didn’t help her put a stop to this space crash waiting to happen. “I know you don’t understand, but it is Kede’s right and his honor.”

  “This is stupid,” she hissed.

  “It is the way of the Doshan. It was this way when the bright light flared to life and it shall be this way until the darkness accepts us all.”

  How the hell was she supposed to argue with that?

  “Now, watch your harau destroy young Pretor and try not to show fear.”

  “Fear?” The first clang of metal on metal had her whipping her attention to Kede and this Pretor and she realized that fear was at the top of her emotions list. Anger hung around too, but then sharp, shining metal was aimed at Kede’s head and… Yeah, fear. Top of her god damned, alien list.

  Or darkness damned?

  Fuck it. A shitstorm was unfolding and the only thing she could do was watch… and wait.

  * * *

  Kede dodged the blow and stepped backed a half dozen feet and gave Pretor room to move. The male was a youngling, hardly free of his mother’s womb and assigned to the Vehly. Some councilman’s brat got stuck on Kede’s ship and now he was responsible for teaching the sniveling boy manners.

  Yes, that initial strike was easily blocked, as were the four immediately following. The warrior youngling huffed and puffed with every swing. If the boy made it through the challenge, he’d assign additional duties to increase his endurance.

  The crowd was silent with the exception of a single voice. His harae did not take confinement well, and he knew Yare was the only thing keeping Joyce from charging and battling stupid Pretor herself.

  She was a fierce little thing.

  Grinning, he refocused on Pretor, meeting blow after blow, the steel of their blades throwing sparks with each connection. The young male struggled to keep up, snarling and baring his teeth, the red of one eye bleeding black under the pressure and strain.

  It was as if a spear found home in Kede’s belly, the shock of what he witnessed stealing his breath. The meaning of the color’s transition from red to black rushing forward in a blinding flood.

  The stutter in his defense, the pause, gave Pretor a moment to break through Kede’s guard and nick his chest, drawing first blood due to his inattention.

  Joyce’s roar of rage echoed off the walls, bouncing past Kede and flowing over him like a gentle stream. Even in her rage, he found her beautiful while her words left much to be desired.

  “I’ll gut you, you sonofabitch!” Grunts and groans from Joyce were followed by a deep, masculine moan. “Your momma was the daughter of a whore, you bastard. Get over here. Give me one of those knives, dammit.” Another grunt, one that Kede recognized as coming from Yare. “I can swing a Ginsu with the best of them.”

  One thing her ranting did do was provide Kede with a distraction as Pretor focused on his harae instead of their battle.

  He flicked the tip of his blade across Pretor’s hand, breaking the skin’s surface and inviting blood into the air. The next flick drew more and the third had the ancient sword spinning through the air.

  Even disarmed, the youngling did not give up. He came forward, bare fists flying. Anger and rage fueled the boy, and it wouldn’t be long before the battle ended.

  He was disappointed he did not draw more life fluid, but he needed to return to his harae.

  When Pretor dove, Kede caught him easily, stopping one blow and giving one in return, still clutching his father’s blade. Punches were exchanged, his landing and finding home more often than the other warrior’s. He ducked one aimed at his jaw and delivered one to the male’s stomach. Pretor bent at the waist, clutching his middle, but quickly recovered and returned to the battle.

  A kick was easily blocked, another easily returned, and the boy’s strength continued to wane.

  “Cry and submit, Pretor.” The Kerosa did not require death.

  “Never,” he spat. “You created this abomination and we will end it. We will bathe in its blood.”

  A flash of silver caught his eye the sparest moment before Pretor rushed toward him once again, a new blade in his hand. It wasn’t a blade from the beginning of time. It wasn’t a shaft of metal created to be used in a Kerosa as they were judged by both darkness and light. With its appearance, Kede no longer cared about honor.

  “You have forfeited your life, Pretor Melora. May the light refuse you and the darkness welcome you with open arms.”

  The fight became wild, the boy seeming to realize that nothing would save him now. He had insulted a harae for which he would have walked away battered, but still walking. Now he threatened Joyce Enner Tria-se, mate to Kede Lorei Tria-se, Commander of the Battleship Vehly and Holder of his House.

  There would be no crying now. No submission. The beast inside Kede, his very soul, roared for retribution.

  He swung, Pretor stumbled. He stomped, Pretor rolled. He struck, Pretor cried. He brought his blade forward, intent on the killing strike. Pretor… flared out of sight.

  A roar built in his chest, growing and filling his lungs, pushing against his flesh until it became so large he could not breathe through its strength. Kede opened his mouth, releasing the echoing sound, venting his rage at the loss of his light given right to avenge his harae and the chance was stolen from him, snatched by a darkness-damned flare.

  “Find him!” The words vibrated through the room, shaking everything not secured to the floor. “Find him so I may feed him his tongue and banish his harvoc bastard hide to the darkness.”

  Kede spun, hunting for his harae and found her captured in Yare’s and Hassee’s arms. She strained against their hold, fighting even as he rode the killing edge. She kicked Yare in the shin and elbowed Hassee and then she was running to him, shoving every male in the hall and leaping into his arms.

  “You asshole.” She tightened her hold around his neck, squeezing him until he did not think he could take another breath. “You stupid, stupid, asshole, son of a bitch. What kind of idiot fights with swords?” She struck his chest and he grunted. Not from pain, but surprise that she’d try to harm him. Then again, she was a fierce little beast. “I will kick yo
ur ass if you do that again.”

  Her cheeks were wet, rain leaking from her eyes, and he dropped his blade to the ground. The one that’d seen year after year and been held by countless males from the House Tria, clattered to the soft biopad. Respect for the past had no place when presented with a hurting harae. He clutched her, held her close and welcomed her weight against him.

  “Hush, my harae. Hush.” He rubbed her back, ignoring the warriors still motionless around them. He knew Hassee disappeared the moment Joyce escaped his hold, rushing to follow orders, but the rest still stood near.

  Kede raised his head, leveling a glare on each male who remained until they silently disappeared, leaving the room as the quiet warriors they were trained to be.

  They would do their jobs, they would meet the tasks presented before them, and Kede would… hold his harae.

  Until she shoved him away and gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “We,” she waved a hand between them, “are gonna talk about this.”

  Kede swallowed his groan. Barely.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adrenaline thrummed through Joyce’s veins, pummeling her from inside out and threatening to burst every vein in her body.

  Dear God in Heaven he’d almost lopped a man’s—Doshan’s—head off. Okay, maybe not the head. Definitely an arm. Or at least a finger.

  And then he’d allowed himself to get hurt.

  She grumbled as she slowly stomped her way back to Kede’s quarters. “Stupid, dumbass, barbarian aliens with their spaceships and their Ginsu knives and acting like some weird Fruit Ninja come to life.”

  “What, my harae?” Kede sounded so concerned.

  Concerned my ass.

  “I,” she wagged a finger at him. “I am not your anything. I’m my own, remember? Me, myself, and I, bucko.” She didn’t stop walking. She may have slowed a little, but dammit was a long trek from the dining hall to the unit she shared with Kede. Asshole. That was his fault, too.

  A Doshan male, tall as hell—though weren’t they all?—with one red eye and one blue, she wondered why he hadn’t been sent to Terra. He had the whole American patriotism thing going on. Plus, with that dark tan and blond hair… They would get a crap-ton more volunteers if they showed him off.