Alien General's Fated: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides)

by Voxley, Vi

  The sound coming from the Host's throat was close to a whine when Ryden wrapped his hands around its neck. The hive mind fought back with everything it had, flooding his mind with the worst images it could come up with.

  The body beneath him was thrashing wildly, trying to throw off his hold. The Host's long nails were dragging bloody lines over his face in the desperate hope of making him ease up on his grip.

  All through seeing Aria die again and again, his ship being destroyed or falling into the hands of the Clayors, Ryden fought back.

  There was a flash to his left. The general threw himself off the Host a second before the knife slashed against his thigh, right where his heart would have been. The Host had somehow thrashed hard enough to edge closer to its discarded weapon.

  Ryden heard the enemy get up, breathing heavily. His head hurt from the visions, each more vivid than the next, but he couldn't give in to them. The Host had to die, there was no other way. He resolved himself to do whatever it took to make that happen, and turned to face the unseen enemy, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

  He thought he heard movement to his left, right when he heard Aria's desperate voice from above.

  "On your right, three feet! He's right on top of you!"

  The general moved without thinking. He dashed to his right, one, two steps and the spear was back in his hand. The grip was awkward. He had to adjust, and then he spun around, thrusting the blade of the spear right through the Host's heart.

  The visions ceased. The bay returned to him, empty except for him and the dying hive mind. Looking up, he saw Aria standing on a walkway high under the ceiling, her face pale with fear. There were warriors with her. Presumably they'd been trying to keep her away and not to let her see.

  The Host collapsed before his feet.

  Ryden looked upon his fallen enemy without hate. It wasn't the Brion way to hate a worthy enemy, especially in victory. He looked at the light dying in the creature's eyes forever without another Clayor close by to carry on in its place. It said nothing. It had nothing to say to him.

  He'd won. He'd won and lived and Aria was his.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Aria

  “It’s over,” she gasped.

  It was the most nerve-racking thing she'd ever witnessed.

  Aria could have sworn her heart stopped at least three times watching the general fight the Host. Seeing him duel an enemy he couldn't see, knowing what it felt like from experience... Aria had never been so glad in her life when it was done. Not only because Ryden was alive, not just because they'd won, but because it was finally over.

  "Over," Ryden repeated, looking at her with a smile. "It is not over."

  They were in his rooms, with strict commands in place not to disturb them with anything short of a major crises. Captain Hastien was in charge of the ship during the general's absence, overseeing the resolution of the war and the repairs to the Conqueror. Aria didn't envy the man for either and felt more than guilty for the second.

  Her hand was wrapped into a weird bandage after the healer had fixed the bone in place correctly. She had been assured it would be as good as new in no time, but even after such a long time in space, Aria had a hard time believing that. Medicine simply didn't work like that for her. Broken bones were something that took months to fix, not hours. The healer had grinned at her.

  The miraculous healing qualities of the Brions were quite visible to her, though. The scars on Ryden's face were already almost gone, with only pale lines showing where the Host had scratched him. She wondered if Brions had any scars at all, but the general assured her that they did. Even healing didn't fix everything. Some things were too poisonous or too severe to ever fully mend. Shallow flesh wounds, however, would do so.

  His response confused Aria, who was lying on the general's bed, distantly wondering if she should tell him about the night she spent there. She imagined the imagery would please her fated. So far, Ryden had taken utmost interest in her well-being, and despite the obvious lust shining in his eyes, hadn't moved to touch her more than to caress her skin, to kiss her, to hold her against his strong body.

  Just thinking about it made Aria squirm, longing for more, but then the pain in her arm reminded her that waiting was necessary.

  "How so?" she asked. "We won. You won."

  Ryden was standing by the screen that had opened in the bedroom. If Aria had known before that there was such a thing on the wall, hidden behind a cover, she would have felt very self-conscious.

  "Yes," Ryden allowed, turning his gaze toward the Enor. "Wasn't it you who kept telling me there was a difference between winning and winning right?"

  Aria was willing to admit that it did sound like her.

  "But you did nothing wrong."

  "Did I now?" the general asked, finally turning to look her in the eyes.

  His smile was kind, but the look in his green eyes was hard and cold.

  "I somehow doubt the Union is going to see it that way."

  "You are a hero. You saved us all, you saved Ilotra. You killed the hive mind."

  Ryden walked to her, running his hand across her naked legs. Her gown had been so damaged she'd cut off the burnt, torn lower half. That left her legs uncovered, something the general completely approved of.

  "I don't think that is the term they'll use."

  "I'll make them see," she said stubbornly.

  "See what?" Ryden asked, sliding his hand under her gown, up her thighs and so maddeningly close to her pussy that Aria couldn't help but moan.

  The general's answer was a deep, guttural chuckle. She loved the sound of that, but Aria wanted more. To hear him whisper her name, to hear him groan in pleasure as he took her, to forever imprint his voice into her mind.

  She shook her head clear. All of it would come, soon.

  "That you saved them."

  The general held out his hand and Aria took it. Gently, so as not to move her broken hand too much, Ryden pulled her to her feet. He led her to the screen, his arm around her waist. Aria hoped, probably in vain, that the man would never know how much his touch turned her on.

  Even the hint of his strength—his firm chest pressed against her back as he held her—was all she needed to feel how wet her panties were.

  The sight that greeted them wiped that sensation from her mind.

  Ilotra lay before them, still smoking, charred. Everywhere she looked, there were repairs going on, works that would take months to complete and even then normal life wouldn't return to the moon for years. Who knew how long it would take for them to forget? Aria hoped that the ones who were in charge knew to purge all signs of the attack, and not make the fortress a museum for the war it suffered.

  "Do you think they'll agree with you?" Ryden asked quietly, with the morbid sense of humor Aria had always found only with the Brions. "Seeing that."

  "Those are the consequences of war," she replied.

  This time, the general laughed for real. Aria felt it vibrate through the body holding her in his embrace.

  "I wish I could somehow tell the woman I first met on Ilotra that she would say that before the war was over," the general said, clearly amused, before continuing. "Don't get me wrong. I agree with you. I do not regret the decisions I made. I feel no guilt, no remorse, no regret. All I'm saying is that to the corrupted politicians down there, this does not look like winning. And neither does that."

  Aria turned her gaze toward the Enor, sitting patiently beside the Brion flagship, where it had been for a whole day now. With the hive mind's death, the surviving Clayors were left leaderless, but also mindless. They were barely better than confused children, Ryden had said. To kill them would have been a disgrace to the Brions.

  So they had decided to gather all the Clayors on the flagship and escort them back to their home world. There they would leave them, to whatever life they could lead without the hive mind to rule them. The Palian fleet had volunteered to pilot the Enor home, since Ryden had re
fused to play guardian to their recent enemies as firmly as he'd refused the Union's order to kill them.

  "Now they want the Clayors dead," he'd growled when the message came from Ilotra.

  Aria had been worried that the general would exact some kind of revenge on the ambassadors, but he did not. He simply ignored them, giving his own commands.

  "The Palians understand," Aria offered.

  Ryden nodded. "They always do. It's an annoying habit of theirs."

  Aria felt a smile tug at her lips. Now that they were finally free from the tension, the dangers of war, she could finally see the man who was her fated. And in place of the savage she'd feared, Aria found pretty much the man she had already gotten to know.

  Without the constant threat, the only thing that changed about Ryden was his intensity. He was calmer now, more open. Or maybe it was simply her. After all, she was his gesha. There would be no secrets between them.

  The thought still scared her a bit, but facing the very real danger of losing Ryden forever, Aria had come to the conclusion that she couldn't live without him. Not only couldn't, but she refused to even try out of some irrelevant notion of modesty. She was his and he was hers.

  They stood in silence for a moment, watching the system slowly return to normal life. Ryden hadn't been down on the surface, preferring to stay aboard the Conqueror with her. His second and the Koliar warlord Stavor were overseeing military matters down on the moon, now that the control of Ilotra had been handed back to the council.

  As much as Aria had understood, the first issue on their agenda was Ryden, so the general probably wasn't that far off in his estimate that the war hadn't ended yet.

  "Conflicts end quickly," he'd told Aria. "Wars end when politicians have argued through all the details that barely matter."

  In the face of such stupidity, Aria hadn't felt the need to go down to Ilotra either. The moon was a sorry sight from up there, but at least she didn't have to face her fellow ambassadors, some of whom she would have strong words with at some point.

  She was startled from her thoughts when the general slid his hands over her breasts and brought her into a firm hug. Strong arms turned her around to look her fated in the eye. He wore a devious smirk, but underneath Aria saw true feeling.

  "No matter what they say, I will care nothing for it. I only wanted one thing from this war and I have it."

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Aria

  She was dreaming of him.

  In her dream, Aria was aware of her earlier fantasies. To her delight, she found them all coming true. Waking up in the morning to find the general's firm, skillful fingers stroking her most intimate depths, bringing her to new heights of pleasure...

  Aria awoke aboard the Conqueror on the third day after the conflict had ended, blissfully happy in the general's quarters. She felt the softness of the pillow under her head and the solid body holding her in an embrace. It was the best way to wake up, if anyone asked her.

  Her cast had come off the day before, to her surprise, glee, and not a small amount of humiliation because it was the same healer and she remembered Aria as her only Terran patient. Naturally she also recalled her not believing that a broken bone could be fixed that fast. In fact, the healer's exact words had been something along the lines of humans being easier to repair than Brions.

  She didn't know if she should take that as a compliment or not.

  Aria was wondering what had woken her up when a moan slipped over her lips and she was suddenly completely awake. Apparently her dreams had been very directly inspired by her reality. Ryden wasn't holding her gently in his arms as she'd thought, waking up straight into a daydream.

  The general's hands were hungrily caressing her body, pushing the shirt she slept in—his—up to get better access to her tits, and groping them. She felt his lips pressing hot, ferocious kisses on her neck and above all things, felt his cock pressed against her thighs, huge and hard.

  The day before, she'd assured him that they could make their binding official as soon as she was feeling well enough. Apparently Ryden had some sort of a sixth sense to tell when she was recovered enough, because Aria couldn't feel even one pinch of pain amidst the pleasure.

  Her moan signaled the general that she'd awoken. He rolled over to lie on top of her, the most gorgeous man in the galaxy looking down at Aria with those wild green eyes that she wouldn't have minded drowning in. And she was, fast.

  "You don't waste time, do you?" she asked, teasing, all the while perfectly aware that her body was rubbing against the general's without shame.

  Ryden gave her an equally mocking glare, thrusting his hips against her belly in the promise of things to come. Aria whimpered at the motion, rising up to accept a fierce kiss from his lips.

  "I don't," the general admitted when they had to break for air. "But I assure you, I have no intention of making this fast."

  For a second, his eyes were very serious, making Aria pull back a bit as well.

  "All those moments when I thought I would lose you," Ryden said, the weight of his words plain in his voice. "I didn't think of how good it would have been to fuck you again. I thought of how good it would be to enjoy your body like it deserves to be."

  Aria didn't know how to respond to that. She was still getting used to the brutal Brion honesty that manifested between bonded couples. They kept nothing from each other, but she was not Brion. She worried if Ryden would mind, but the general didn't seem to expect any comment from her. He merely regarded her with softness Aria found even more unsettling than the honesty.

  The kiss that followed proved that the softness was only present on the emotional level. Ryden bent forward to capture her lips with a fervor she'd only seen in him when he was fighting. The kiss was strong and purposeful and as irresistible as he was. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her. Aria moaned, feeling like she was prey being attacked, finding she had no objection to that.

  On the contrary, she loved it, and basked in the way the general brought one hand into her hair, pulling her head up to press their lips even closer together. His lips were demanding, controlling, dragging her along with the current that he was, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Aria was helpless to resist, all the more because she didn't want it to stop, ever.

  Or possibly only in favor of moving forward. When Ryden pulled back to rip her shirt open, Aria whimpered. It was clear to her that her body was nothing more than a toy in the general's hands and once more she found herself immensely enjoying it.

  Terran men were nothing like Ryden, nowhere close to having the power that surrounded him like an aura. His mere presence made obeying him the most natural thing in the world. Aria was willing to give him everything he wanted, knowing she'd receive the same in return.

  The simplicity of it brought a smile to her lips. To love and be loved in return, that was already a treat not everyone got. But to be fucked hard enough to see heaven, that was a cherry on top of it.

  "I liked that shirt," she protested feebly, stopping as Ryden had.

  The general was kneeling above her, clad in his short boxers, looking at her like she had just dropped from the sky into his bed. His gaze drifted over her body, his lips parted in amazement. Aria shuddered under the intensity of his admiration, feeling exposed despite being with the man she loved.

  She was about to pull the ripped shirt back up to cover herself, but Ryden caught her hand and the look in his eyes was the most delicious kind of warning.

  "Don't," he said, voice so deep it turned the words into a growl. "Never cover yourself from me. I want your body to be exactly like this."

  He held Aria's gaze as his fingers traced a path across her naked skin. She could see his mouth twitch in hunger as he took her in.

  "Exactly like this," Ryden repeated. "Ready for me, willing and pliant. Your neck exposed, your skin flushed from your arousal—"

  His hands traced the route his words were taking. Aria felt a blush creep over her cheeks, although she had
to admit she was definitely guilty of desire right about then.

  "—and your pussy wet for me."

  She sobbed when Ryden pushed a finger inside her, her back arching off the sheets, but the general pushed her to lie back.

  "You are mine," he rumbled, the words both a promise and a claim.

  Aria squirmed under his hands, and the general added a second finger to work her open. She was writhing on the sheets already, uncaring if he saw the depth of her desire. After all, Aria was willing to give him what he'd asked. She didn't doubt for a second that in his bed, her body would always be his and ready for him whenever he wished.

  "I could taste your desire long before you woke," Ryden whispered, bending down to kiss her lips and her neck, never stopping fingering her pussy. "Was I the reason you were moaning?"

  Oh fuck yes.

  "Yes," Aria sobbed. "Yes..."

  "Tell me what excited you like that."

  That was an order and Aria didn't mistake it for anything else. Not when her body was demanding that she submit to Ryden's every desire, and any command he gave.

  "I—" she moaned, shivering when the general moved lower down her body, taking her nipples into his mouth. "I was dreaming of us, here, like this..."

  The general was fondling her tits, groping them one by one, taking her nipples into his hot, wet mouth in turn. Aria was caught between the stimulation of her pussy and her tits, not knowing which to push into, trying to do both and ending up simply writhing beneath him. She felt the general chuckle against her skin, even the tickling sensation sending a spark of pleasure to her pussy.

  "Good," Ryden growled. "I want you to be mine. I want your body to sing at the mere sight of me. Whenever you see me, I want to know your pussy is wet and waiting for me."

  He looked up, straight into Aria's eyes, which were begging for him to go on.