Vanquished

by Allyson Young

  “He dies!” Duff’s howl cut through the tension as Vayne prepared to defend himself, and the female halted, stumbling as she did so. Duff held his weapon at the young male’s throat, vicious intent written across his features.

  “No, don’t,” the lithe beauty called out, and Vayne watched, transfixed, as she dropped to her knees, carefully laying down the lethal weapon she used so efficiently. She then clasped her hands behind her neck. Her voice, while plaintive and breathless, was nearly musical to his ears.

  Nothing in her posture spoke of true submission, but it didn’t matter to Vayne’s cock. That appendage throbbed painfully and he was at a loss as to how to calm it. Never had he ever… Vayne struggled to make his body move. Captain Ristos moved first.

  Kicking aside the baton, he gestured to Duff, who released his hold on the still-unconscious young male and pulled his dagger away. Was this woman attached to the man? Guarding him? Vayne shook his head. It didn’t matter.

  “Secure her.”

  Ristos bent and clipped a pair of solar cuffs around the woman’s wrists, and Vayne approved of how efficient the captain was, yet afforded the little female respect. He wasn’t the only male to appreciate her attempt to defend this deck. The restraints emitted slight whirring sounds as they engaged. Charged by any light source, they were virtually impervious to tampering and would open only to the owner’s print. Vayne pulled the control from the captain’s hand, entered his own print to replace Ristos’, then crushed the control beneath his boot. The pirate captain didn’t blink an eye, though his two men exhibited some slight surprise.

  “Help one another to our ship,” Ristos instructed them. He waited as they hobbled to the lift, throwing glances of retribution mixed with awe toward the woman still kneeling in the corridor.

  “I’ll bring the other passengers out and offer them your conditions, Sov—sir.”

  Vayne gave up any pretense. As desperate as the Shadalla were, their scientists had confirmed the compatibility of Earth females to breed and bear their children, and some of his species’ males had actually found their chosen. Gone was Vayne’s need to merely pick a female out of the women on this ship, using careful parameters to ensure she was suited for his position, able to bear his children, and of a nature and appearance to stimulate his desires in order to put those offspring in her belly. Royal concubines weren’t unheard of, after all, and the odds of him finding a chosen were slight. But he couldn’t look any further, impossibly drawn to this imperious warrior at his feet. And should he ever be fortunate enough to find an actual chosen mate, this lovely woman would retain concubine status, regardless.

  “Bring the men out. Offer. I’ll send my exec to scrutinize the females.” He wasn’t that overwhelmed to forget he had a duty to other men in his service, Leric included.

  “Good. And then we’re off. A pod to recover. And if you require any other…services…”

  “And if you require anything I might be able to provide. Any assistance?” Vayne offered.

  “I might take you up on that someday, sir.”

  Nodding, he reached down and fit a hand under the elbow of the female, and his world turned upside down. The physical attraction had been immediate, granted. But the instant he touched her and her scent enveloped him, his brain exploded with a revelation he’d only experienced once in his life—and a very subdued and pale version at that, one manipulated by science. Vayne didn’t need another minute with her to understand the symptoms and wished to shout his joy out loud. She was a chosen and not his future concubine. She came up with the lightness of gossamer, and only his quick reflexes saved him from a knee to the groin as he turned to catch the blow on his thigh. Little spitfire.

  Ristos assisted him, binding her feet with yet another pair of solar cuffs, this time passing the control over without a pause. “She’ll use her teeth too,” the man commented.

  He didn’t want to gag her but accepted the inevitable. Still reeling from the fortuitous news, he nodded and strove to recover his equilibrium. Watching as the captain wrapped a silk sash around her mouth, he wrestled with the need to punch the other man in the face for touching her. Vayne also wished he’d asked her name before she was silenced, but he was ruefully aware she’d likely deny him.

  She went over his shoulder, body radiating fury, and he blessed the makeshift gag. He was tempted to smack her curved bottom but thought she’d struggle and end up harming herself against the unforgiving walls. There was time enough ahead to gentle his wee warrior.

  “Hand me the baton,” he requested. “She seems to have an attachment to it.”

  Ristos scooped it up, running a hand down its gleaming length. “It’s a well-crafted and balanced tool. She could have killed with it.”

  But she hadn’t, and Vayne thought he already had some insight into his as yet nameless bride. Ristos had likely noticed too, hence his care in cuffing her. Control was Vayne’s own watchword and this woman also possessed it. It was perhaps unfortunate she would be required to concede that quality, but such was the way of his people.

  “Thank you, Captain. I wish you the best. Perhaps we’ll cross paths in the future.”

  The lift bore them up to the docking bay in good time and he stepped out, ignoring the attention he drew. His troops, looking relieved then surprised, fell in behind him as he found the way to the shuttle. He deposited his slight burden on the nearest seating and buckled her in. The glow in those remarkable eyes should have singed him, and on impulse he tugged the gag from her lips.

  “What is your name, little warrior?” He spoke in Earth’s primary language. He and Ristos had used a different form of communication to safeguard their covert operation, one agreed upon when he’d first contracted with the pirate.

  “Fuck you, asshole.” The universal translator embedded in his cranium had no difficulty in translating her response. He didn’t require it in this case, considering his ability to learn various languages for his time spent on the Home World.

  Her epithet was nothing less than he expected. He smiled at her and was rewarded with a flicker of shock. Perhaps she’d expected a cuff or a punch? He would never abuse her, but they would need to discuss how she tempted fate with casual disregard for her circumstances. There were many who would have taken advantage of her helplessness following such a response, maybe broken her lips or blackened an eye in retaliation.

  “You’ll be somewhat uncomfortable for a short while, my nameless warrior, but after witnessing your abilities I won’t remove your restraints until I get you on my own ship.”

  “You’re Shadalla.” There was now nothing but calm observation in her tone, all fury abruptly extinguished.

  “I am.” On impulse, he spoke in his own tongue.

  “We have a treaty.” She too had a device to translate their conversation. Interesting. He hadn’t expected the passengers on the Astris to be so equipped.

  “We do.”

  “But you attacked, ignored it.”

  Vayne bowed his head, a slight move to acknowledge her accusation. “There is a good reason, little one. As you will come to learn.”

  “Coward. You prey on the weak and defenseless.”

  The dig struck home, but he schooled his features. “Perhaps you will also come to reconsider in time.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  He saw no fear in those eyes, nothing to intimate she feared for her life, but rather, something he didn’t want to interpret. He realized she was not averse to dying and he recoiled, horrified. He intuited her thoughts. This woman was weary to the bone behind her determined efforts to repel the boarders. Those efforts indeed hadn’t been in defense of her life but rather of her fellow passengers. She hadn’t been attempting to kill the pirates but take them out of commission, at great risk to herself. Courting death. What had brought her to this state? To cover his revelation, he asked a question instead of answering hers.

  “Who was that young male to you?” It was an effort not to hold his breath while
she answered.

  “Who? Yuri? He’s a fellow traveler.”

  Relieved he hadn’t taken her from her mate, even if he’d have done so had that been true, Vayne shook his head at her description. “You are no ordinary traveler. You have an embedded universal translator. And you fought like no passenger destined for the outer planets.”

  Her eyes shuttered and she withdrew from him. He literally watched her go and tried to draw her back, a hint of panic chiseling away at his determination. “Little warrior? Who are you?”

  “Who are you?” she countered after a long pause, her eyes coming back into focus.

  “Lord Vayne Palldyn, Sovereign of the Southern Range, planet Nibiru. Shadalla.” He gave his title proudly, having been granted it through circumstances more than his birth. No royal assumed the throne without proving himself, usually with great sacrifice, and he was no exception. He’d lost both his father and mother, as well as his only sibling as a result of his ambition. There were times when he regretted seeking such status despite his family’s approval, because assassins weren’t picky about collateral damage. Jostling for the position of sovereign had all but vanished over the decades, and Vayne hoped it was primarily because of his ability to rule and their planet to prosper.

  “Holy shit. His Lordship himself,” she muttered, and he forgot to think of that sad and violent past.

  “You know of me?” Part of him was pleased, another, worried. How could this scrap of womanhood know of him as His Lordship, unless she was indeed military? Then again, the Home World politicians had spies everywhere.

  She didn’t answer, and he accepted the mystery. For now. They needed to get gone, to quote the pirate captain. He gave the order, settling into a seat beside his nameless prize, and secured his belts. The scanner on his vessel would pick up any devices she might have been implanted with, and he could manage one slender female. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere other than to Nibiru.

  They gained the Tomodr without incident and he again carried her on board, sensibly replacing the silk sash across her full mouth. Her eyes spit retribution and he longed to make her his. Longed to take her beneath him to instruct her in his need and dominance, while bringing her the utmost pleasure. But it was far too early, and he had many other tools in his repertoire to improve her attitude. Their joining must be with her consent. She would wish it with everything she had. He’d see to it.

  Leric was already away on another shuttle to carry out his orders, and Vayne hoped his exec was as fortunate as he. Carrying his future down the corridor to his quarters, he calculated the time back to Nibiru and chose the long route, stopping only to key it in on the com for his navigator.

  “Sir.”

  He spun around to face the crewman, his female shifting on his shoulder as he did so. He felt the strength ripple in her belly muscles as she adjusted and Vayne became impossibly aroused, making him snap at his subordinate. “What is it?”

  “The Outriders have reversed their flight pattern.”

  “How soon?”

  “We have perhaps fifteen stints for anonymous departure. No more.”

  “Recall Leric in ten and be prepared to leap to starblaze. No delays.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man hustled away in the direction of the bridge and Vayne was able to gain his quarters without additional interruptions.

  Applying his hand to the sensor pad, he waited impatiently as the panel opened in response, then carried his warrior in.

  After lowering her to his bunk—even sovereigns didn’t rate luxuries on a warship—Vayne knelt beside her and gently tugged the silk free. She’d been restrained long enough.

  “I’m going to release you on your promise you won’t attempt to escape or otherwise act out.”

  “No chance.” Those golden eyes gave no quarter, and her wide mouth, with its shorter upper lip, curled in disdain. He wanted to lick it back into its sweet curve but valued his own flesh.

  “We’re in the middle of no man’s space, little one. No place to run, nowhere to hide.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  With a sigh, and an eye on his timepiece, he released her wrists first. He took advantage of her obvious stiffness to snatch one hand, replace the cuff and attach it to a bolt on the headboard. She flexed her free hand and eyed the bolt—and the matching one on the other side. A faint flush covered her high cheekbones.

  “You’re a pervert, too.” The statement was curiously without affect.

  “You have no idea,” he agreed amiably. If his little captive recognized the symbolism of the bolts, then she might not require the immersion in his culture he’d expected during the holding period. He was both titillated at the thought and disappointed, having hoped to be the first to introduce her to the pleasure of bondage while being pleasured to madness. Another look at her face doused both emotions. Resignation dulled her eyes for an instant, even as she quickly blinked it away. The impression of something terrible rolled over him but he shoved his prescience down for the moment. He had to get his ship out of range before he allowed himself to begin to share her emotions. Her death wish had already colored his mind, and the reasons behind such a thing would likely be dire.

  With a press of his digit on the cuffs at her ankles, her feet came free and he took himself out of kicking distance.

  “I’ll come back with sustenance when I’m able,” he advised.

  “Don’t rush on my part.” He thought she also called him a name under her breath as he left his quarters, ensuring the door locked securely behind him, and made his way to the bridge. He paused near the shuttle bay.

  “Sir.” Leric panted, and behind him Vayne saw several figures sporting long, flowing hair being shepherded into extra crew quarters. Three troops were hard on their heels, along with his medic.

  “How many?”

  “Twelve females. All lovely specimens. The men refused our offer.” Leric didn’t need to add that there had been no offer made to the females. If they were of age, thought capable of bearing children and appeared healthy, they had been taken. There had been no time for the medic to ascertain their suitability on the Astris.

  “And for you? Were you blessed?”

  “There is a fair-haired female with enormous brown eyes. She is very frightened, and I had to tamp down my desperation, but I touched her and sensed…” His exec, never at a loss for words, faltered. Vayne smiled and thumped the other man’s arm.

  “Then go with your instinct, my friend. If she occupies your thoughts and you crave her more than food and drink, she is a chosen. And she will never find a kinder man, despite our need for dominance. Or a more deserving one.”

  “My thanks, Sovereign.” Leric visibly brought himself under control, his shoulders squaring and his head once again raised, eyes alert. “Orders?”

  “Go. Put as much space between us and the Astris as possible. I’ve alerted the navigator of the route to take a different path home, something to both confuse any pursuit and give us some time to woo our future brides.” Though in truth his little warrior was already essentially bound to him, as was Leric’s choice of a lifemate.

  “Do you believe the Home World will send others to try and follow?”

  “I don’t, because there’s no reason for them to think we were involved. The pirates will have left some sort of decoy, as well. But this entire operation has taken too long, and I won’t risk anything. We move now.”

  “Yes, sir. Done.”

  Vayne supervised their departure and allowed a sigh of relief when they left the Astris behind. The pirate ship was also departing. The only thing for the Outriders to find would be the drifting passenger vessel, with its entire crew essentially unharmed and most of its passengers still on board. The loss of thirteen female travelers would no doubt be investigated, but with pirates involved, it was likely the authorities would accept that loss. Women weren’t as valued on the Home World as they should be, and losing the paltry cargo would probably make a greater impact.


  If he’d really wanted to muddy the trail Vayne would have ordered everyone on board slaughtered, and there had been a time in Shadalla history when that would have been the case. But he’d seen too much violence and perpetrated too much. Now that the war was over he had no taste for duty in the form of dealing death, although there were some remaining humans who would find it at his hand when they were ferreted out. But that was a process he’d set in motion with others more skilled in the hunt, having missed his opportunity. And he now had other, more important, things on his mind. One in particular.

  Instructing a crew member in the galley as to the contents of a tray he was required to formulate, Vayne leaned against the bulkhead. Fatigue, more from the emotional stress of the day, wore at him. Accepting the tray, he wearily trudged back to his quarters, sustenance in hand. The scent of the food lifted his tiredness to some extent and he stared down at the meal. It had been a long journey and a momentous one. Some time had passed since he’d flown a ship on a mission. Politics had taken up far too much of his time. It was a tasteless, if necessary, task.

  As he neared his cabin, he could sense her and she was like a stimulant. He forgot any weariness as it washed away before his sense of anticipation and he commanded the door to open. His little warrior was where he’d left her, ensconced on his bunk, the disheveled bedding indicative of how she’d attempted to break free. Vayne actually entered with caution, insanely thinking she might have escaped her binds and was waiting on the other side of the panel to wreak havoc. On him. The anticipation of warring with his bride, and the resulting loving reparations, nearly consumed him. His cock, still tumescent, expressed its agreement.