Dark Planet Warriors: The Serial (Books 1-3)

by Anna Carven

  If Tarak is a dark elven warrior, then this guy is the fucking Fae Prince.

  Predictably, he’s totally butt-naked. I sigh.

  Besides Tarak and myself, the other tribal guys are now standing at the edge of the hole, peering down. The Prince looks up, sees us, and shouts an exuberant greeting in Kordolian.

  Hauling the monster over his shoulder as if it’s nothing, he starts to climb up the ladder, grinning, his body wet and glistening.

  These guys really must enjoy the fact that they’re totally immune to the cold.

  Tarak and I are the only ones who seem to be wearing wearing clothes around here.

  As the Prince reaches the top, he throws his catch onto the hard, icy surface. Its weird milky blood spills around it, starting to freeze as it touches the ice.

  He sees Tarak, lets out a stream of rapid Kordolian, and then proceeds to punch him in the face. Tarak doesn’t even flinch.

  “What the hell?” I gasp, without even thinking, moving to step between them, reaching for my dagger. Tarak curls one arm protectively around my waist.

  “Do not worry,” he whispers. “It’s a traditional Aikun greeting.”

  Traditional, my ass. What kind of numbskull says hello with his fists?

  Tarak’s grinning. The crazy idiot. That Prince is crazy, too. All Kordolians, I’ve decided, are crazy, and I’ve just happened to become very attracted and attached to one of them. Therefore, I must also be crazy.

  I feel for the black knife strapped to my thigh, my fingers curling around its familiar, reassuring shape. For the most part, it looks as if Tarak has things under control, but this is Kythia, and these are Kordolians.

  One just never knows what’s going to go down.

  Tarak throws off his robes, carefully placing his weapons beside them, but to my relief, keeps his pants on. He stretches, the taut muscles of his back and arms flexing.

  Then he returns the punch, his fist slamming into the guy’s nose. The Prince smiles back, and then, even more confusingly, they hug, with lots of masculine back-slapping.

  Tarak moves across and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Relax, amina. This is perfectly acceptable. It may seem strange to you, but amongst the Aikun, fighting can be a show of affection.” He squeezes my shoulder, then turns to the Prince.

  What happens next makes me roll my eyes in exasperation. They both move away from our group, giving themselves a little space.

  The Prince, still wet and dripping from his underwater escapade, tries to get another punch in. This time, Tarak dodges it, feinting to his left. He responds with a blow of his own, his fist connecting with the other Kordolian’s jaw.

  It’s not a hard punch; I get the feeling Tarak’s holding back. The Prince launches into a flurry of blows, trying to get a hit on Tarak. They weave and dodge, using some impressive footwork. Some glancing blows land on Tarak, but the Prince can’t really get a good hit in.

  The attack picks up pace, and it’s the Prince on the offensive, with Tarak blocking and dodging.

  They’re both grinning, their expressions reminding me of children who are playing with their brand new Christmas gifts.

  Males. I sigh as this ridiculous spectacle unfolds before me.

  It’s obvious that Tarak’s the better fighter, but the Prince is putting in a solid effort. In other circumstances, he’d be considered an excellent fighter. A Human wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

  But with Tarak, it’s like the master schooling the pupil.

  He lets the guy attack. He dodges, blocks, and doesn’t give an inch. He doesn’t go easy on him, but he’s not fighting back, either.

  The tribal guys are cheering them on with loud, raucous cries.

  If the whole thing weren’t so stupid, it would be an impressive thing to watch; two large, bare-chested Kordolian males at peak physical fitness, battling it out.

  Tarak and the Prince keep at it for a while, but eventually the Prince starts to tire, and Tarak executes some kind of swift grappling move that leaves the guy flat on his back and breathless.

  The Prince grins like a madman as Tarak extends a hand to help him up.

  They start chatting as Tarak returns to my side. The Prince sets eyes on me for the first time and he raises both eyebrows, tentatively sniffing the air. His amber eyes go wide.

  “Human,” he murmurs, his voice full of wonder. He babbles something to Tarak in Kordolian.

  “Universal, Xalikian. Speak Universal so she can understand.” He slides an arm around my waist. He’s warm from the exertion of their little tussle, and he feels good. “She is my mate,” he proclaims fiercely.

  The way he says it is unexpected; he actually sounds proud. A delicious, warm, satisfying sensation courses through me. Mate, huh? I think I’ll go with that.

  Still, Tarak needs to learn how to make proper introductions. I’m not going to go around being referred to as ‘mate’. I pull the scarf from my face remove my hood, the cold air slapping me in the face. I ignore it, putting on my most winning smile. I hold out a gloved hand. “Abbey Kendricks, of Earth. Pleased to meet you.”

  The Prince smiles, revealing his fangs. It’s a genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “Abbey of Earth, I am most honored to meet the female who has tamed the great General.” His accent is urbane and cultured. It’s definitely not what I was expecting from a guy who has just brutally killed a giant underwater slug.

  I cast a sidelong glance at Tarak, who’s reverted to his usual stony expression.

  The Prince does a funny little bow. I’ve seen a more elaborate version of that bow directed at Tarak before, but until now, no Kordolian has ever bowed to me. “I am Prince Xalikian Kazharan.” He winks. “But you may call me Xal.”

  “Nice to meet you, Xal.”

  He stares at my outstretched hand, then at Tarak, then back at me, uncertainty creeping into his expression.

  “Uh-”

  “On Earth, shaking hands is a way of greeting,” I inform him, realizing that Kordolians probably have no idea what a handshake is.

  Beside me, Tarak stiffens. Xal glances nervously at my hand, then takes it, his fingers brushing ever so briefly against mine. “Interesting gesture,” he remarks, unconsciously taking a step back.

  What’s got him so jumpy all of a sudden?

  Is it because the big guy is staring at him so intently? Tarak reaches down and throws Xal his robe. “Put this on, Xalikian. It is not appropriate to be such a way in her presence.”

  Of course, he’s referring to Xal’s naked state. I’ve become so used to seeing Kordolian males traipsing around in their birthday suits that I didn’t really think much of Xal’s appearance. It’s as if I’ve become desensitized to male nudity.

  Xal takes the robe and dresses, giving Tarak a wary sidelong glance.

  Looking up, I see that the little vein at Tarak’s temple is twitching. His pointed ears flicker, and he narrows his eyes at Xal. He’s annoyed.

  My mouth opens wide in realization. Is the big guy jealous of the Fae Prince?

  Oh, my. He is a possessive male.

  Doesn’t he understand that he has nothing to worry about?

  I snuggle into him, taking his hand into mine. To my relief, he seems to relax, the tension draining out of his body. Sensing the change, Xal looks visibly relieved.

  “I sent a message through the Soldar that I wanted to see you, but I didn’t expect you here so soon.” Xal glances over his shoulder and says something to the Aikun in their tribal language. One of them unsheathes a big knife as the other pulls a round black device from a bag at his waist. They haul the lamperk over and start skinning it. Its raw, meaty smell drifts to me on the wind. It’s not unpleasant, just very, uh, fresh.

  “There have been developments,” Tarak says. “I did not want to delay any longer.”

  “I’m guessing this has something to do with the ruckus you caused with the High Council. And she’s at the centre of it, isn’t she?” Xal looks at me with a thoughtful expression. �
��My sources told me as much. It’s the reason I wanted to meet with you, actually.”

  I disentangle from Tarak, crossing my arms. “Ta-rak,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “What is he talking about? What exactly am I at the centre of?”

  I know those creepy scientists were after me because they wanted my Human body for some kind of experimental research, but I had no idea I’d become some sort of political football. And even Xal, who lives in the middle of nowhere, knows about it?

  The General has some explaining to do.

  Tarak shifts uneasily, but his expression remains carefully blank. I watch his wine-dark eyes, for once refusing to be distracted by his bare torso.

  “I was protecting you,” he mutters eventually, shooting Xal a dark glare. “The rulers of Kythia demanded I give you to them. I refused.”

  Oh. Tarak protected me from the Powers That Be. I resist the urge to hug him. He might look scary, but that hard exterior hides a tender, protective heart. However, all this handing-over business sounds quite serious. “General, what exactly makes me so valuable to you Kordolians? As a Human, I assumed your people wouldn’t give me a second glance.” I’m not liking where this is going.

  Tarak turns his back on Xal. He puts his big, warm hands on either side of my face and meets my gaze. His red eyes are wide and clear; I sense no deceit there. “When you got the nanograft, back on the Fleet Station, they did some tests without my knowledge.” His voice is soft. The wind picks up, whipping at my hair, chilling the tips of my ears. “They found something quite remarkable.”

  “What, Tarak?” My voice cracks a little.

  “Humans and Kordolians are compatible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We can have offspring together.”

  “Oh.” My heart skips a beat. He runs his rough thumb gently down the side of my face, from the corner of my eye to my jawline. The sensation sends shivers up my spine. I don’t know what to feel right now. I don’t know whether to be angry and shocked that he omitted that particular detail, or overjoyed. Oh, the children we’re going to have together. “Is that why you’re keeping me around?”

  “No.” He rests his thumb under my chin, tilting my face upwards. He almost seems angry. “You are not a female whose sole purpose is to bear offspring. You are my mate, and I need you by my side. I need you. I am not going to let you fall into the hands of those who would tear you apart and use you; those who would destroy you. Do you understand, Abbey of Earth? You are mine, and no-one, Kordolian or otherwise, is going to take you away from me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, even if I have to wage war against my own people.”

  Oh, my. My heart, seemingly on hold, flutters back to life.

  “You’re not going to start a war because of me,” I whisper, as the wind starts to howl. Behind us, the Aikun males are babbling on in their own language, and I hear the sound of lamperk flesh being chopped. “Although that’s very sweet of you,” I add, almost as an afterthought. Only Tarak could make the idea of starting a war seem romantic.

  “No,” he shakes his head, much to my relief. “A war on Kythia is not my intention. I have devised a more suitable plan.”

  “Of course you have,” I say gently. “That’s why we’re out here in the middle of the badlands, meeting a Prince who doesn’t want to be found, but who somehow still has his ear to the ground. We’re about to discuss the fate of the universe, aren’t we? And he’s somehow involved, and you have cryptically mentioned Earth a few times now. We’re going back there, aren’t we?”

  “We are.” He shakes his head, half-amused, half-astonished. “Astute female. That is why you’re my mate.”

  He’s such a sweet, stubborn, infuriating male. “Well, let’s hear this plan of yours then, General.”

  Tarak

  I gesture towards Xalikian, indicating he should join us again. He was perceptive enough to give Abbey and I a moment of privacy while I discussed a certain issue with her.

  It was the least he could do, after tactlessly bringing it up in the first place.

  It went better than I had hoped. But that is how she is. She speaks her mind, but she’s thinking on her feet, always adapting. She has observed and listened and come to her own conclusions. She does not carry on with drama and angst like those cloistered Kordolian females.

  I am fortunate.

  The Aikun males have dissected the lamperk. They have skinned it and kept the black hide for curing. The soft white flesh has been cut into small cubes. They are busy setting up the heat source for cooking.

  The Prince looks at Abbey and I curiously as he nears. He has wrapped himself in my black robes, covering his naked body. I do not have problems showing my body to her, but suddenly, I don’t want her to see other naked males. Besides, Humans seem to be sensitive about such things.

  I haven’t seen Xalikian for several cycles, and he’s changed since he escaped the Palace. There is a hard edge to his gaze now, and even though he’s lost none of his charm, life in the Vaal has made him lean and tough, like the tribesmen he considers his brothers.

  The resemblance to Vionn and his late father, Ilhan, is striking. He’s inherited his mother’s haughty, aristocratic bearing and his father’s compelling amber eyes. His charm and cunning seem to be his own. I hope he hasn’t inherited any his parents’ madness.

  “You have heard the latest from the High Council, then,” I say, pulling Abbey close. “Sooner or later they will be heading for Earth, looking to take Humans for their experiments.”

  “I have my sources.” Xalikian wears an enigmatic expression. His tone changes, becoming bitter. “My mother’s behind this. She sees all other races as animals. She believes in the supremacy of the Kordolian race, and she won’t spare anything or anyone in her quest to produce the perfect lineage, even if it means extracting biological material from other species. The next time I see her, I will make sure I finish what I started. She will die by my hand.” His golden eyes are as cold as the frozen sea we’re standing on. It doesn’t surprise me. Xalikian has suffered so much at the hands of his mother, the Empress.

  I shake my head. “Vionn is a lost cause. You are better off concentrating on what needs to be done now.” I wrap my hand around Abbey’s smaller one, our fingers entwined. “I have decided to withdraw my entire fleet and the First Division from the High Council’s jurisdiction.”

  Xalikian blinks, staring at me in shock. “They’ll sic General Daegan and his soldiers on you if you break away, you know that.”

  I let out a derisive snort. “Daegan is an idiot. Let him come. If he is stupid enough to take me on, I will destroy him.” Daegan is a Noble who rose to the rank of General through connections and favors. He hasn’t seen real combat in his lifetime. He’s the sort who commands battles remotely, hiding behind strategy advisors and officers. I am not afraid of Daegan. His fleet is comparable in size to mine, but my soldiers are in a different class.

  The only ones who would suffer in a war between military factions would be the ordinary classes, Kordolians who don’t have the backing of a Noble House. The High Council would hastily conscript them into a pointless war.

  “Anyhow, the High Council can’t wage war if they can’t find us.”

  Both Abbey and Xalikian stare at me, looking perplexed.

  “I have ordered my commanders to make the Fleet Station untraceable, cutting off all communication with Kythia. All non-military personnel have been ejected, and it is being moved as we speak. A holographic representation has been left in its place. They won’t know until it’s far too late.”

  Unexpectedly, Xalikian laughs. “That’s genius, General. You’re stealing half the fleet from right under their noses.”

  “I can’t steal what already belongs to me, Prince.” The Fleet Station is mine, and all the soldiers on it are under my command. The fighter craft on it are mine to command. There is no fucking way I’m allowing such artillery into the hands of the Nobles.

  Abbey squeezes m
y hand, turning towards me, so her face is protected from the wind. Her cheeks have become flushed again, a faint pink color spreading across them. So that happens when she’s cold, as well.

  “You mentioned something about Kordolians heading towards Earth to take Humans,” she says, suspicion clouding her voice. “Please tell me you have a plan to stop that.”

  “I was coming to that.” I meet Xalikian’s gaze. “Earth is habitable. Humans and Kordolians can have offspring. It seems like an ideal location for the scenario we have previously discussed.”

  “A Kordolian settlement, outside Kythia?”

  “A breakaway. For any who wish to be free of the Empire and the corruption of the Noble Houses. For those who would consider taking a Human mate. Some of us would rather see our entire race die out than take a non-Kordolian mate. They are obsessed with outdated ideals; with purity. I am not one of those.”

  “What’s my role in all this?”

  “We need a figurehead. You are popular enough amongst the ordinary classes, a cult figure to ordinary Kordolians and alien servants alike. Kordolians would follow you, even to Earth. I’m just a soldier. A war hero in their eyes perhaps, but I can’t inspire loyalty in civilians. You, on the other hand, have had diplomacy training. You can open negotiations with the Humans and apply for asylum on Earth.”

  “I never expected to leave Kythia,” Xalikian says cautiously. “Even though I’m out here in the Vaal, I’m not entirely disconnected from the civilized zones. There are things I’m working on here, and Earth is impossibly far. It’s a six-cycle trip, isn’t it?”

  Abbey holds up a hand. “Hang on just a second.” She gives both Xalikian and I a pointed look. “Planning an invasion of Earth is all well and good, but as the only representative of Earth here, I’d like to bring a few negotiating points to the table.”

  The Prince inclines his head. “Certainly, Abbey of Earth. Unlike my mother, I don’t believe in haphazardly colonizing planets, and I recognize your right to speak on behalf of your people. What are your concerns?”

  “Firstly, I get the feeling there are two sorts of Kordolians. Insane, and not-so-insane. You and Tarak here obviously fall into the latter category. I don’t even want to think about what the batshit-crazy ones would do to Earth, and to Humans.”