Alien Paladin's Redemption (Warriors of the Lathar Book 13)

by Mina Carter

  “Not where your safety is concerned. It’s not safe for you to wander the ship.”

  He moved to grab her arm but she sidled away somehow, twisting to stay out of his grasp. Interesting. She moved fast. Blowing out a sharp sigh, he looked at her.

  “I will escort you back to your quarters. Make sure you’re safe.”

  And then he would find out who she was mated to and give the male a piece of his mind. Letting her wander like this wasn’t safe. Not for her and certainly not for a male who thought so little of his female that he would let her be alone with other males. He was leaving himself open to having his mate taken from him in a challenge fight.

  A growl hit the back of his throat. Unbidden. Again.

  If this female was his, he would never let her out of his sight. He would keep her safe and away from other males. None would dare challenge for her because he would tear them limb from limb… He shut the thought down. She was not his and he had devoted himself to the goddess. Maybe not in any formal way, but in his heart. A mate, even if one should become available, was not in his future.

  “I can take care of myself,” she snarled when he made a grab for her again. This time his hand grazed the bare skin of her arm. It was warm and soft, so delicate it sent a shiver through him. And increased his ire. Didn’t she realize how vulnerable she was out here alone?

  “Don’t you get it?” he hissed, his temper fraying as he stalked forward, backing her up toward the corridor wall. “Most males haven’t seen a real female for decades.”

  Her eyes widened as she tried to slide to the side again, but he was ready for her. Fool him once... She hissed, her beautiful features twisted in anger, and pulled the blade from her waist. He grunted in surprise as he batted it aside, a hard strike that made her release her grip and clutch her hand to her chest in pain. His chest tightened. He didn’t like being the cause of her pain, but it was better a minor hurt now than something worse later on. She needed to learn this lesson.

  “Fucking asshole!” she hissed, twisting to duck out of his way.

  She was fast, but he was faster. He cut off her escape, slamming a hand against the corridor wall by her head. He wasn’t touching her, but he was so close he felt her breath on his cheek, and the heat of her body against the bare skin of his chest.

  His voice lowered to a raspy husk as his gaze locked to hers. “They’re forced to make do with females from other species, but most of them long for delicate skin without scales.” He lifted his free hand to stroke against the side of her throat, his thumb following the line of the blood vessel there. “The flutter of a pulse under satin skin... soft lips...”

  He was caught by his own trap in an ever-decreasing spiral that had one destination. Her. She stood frozen, her back pressed against the wall as he moved closer. She was so small, so tiny compared to him... her eyes so dark as she looked up at him.

  He lowered his head, captivated by the softness of her lips when they parted. Her hand crept up to the center of his chest. A shock hit him at the barely there touch, his breath catching as he pinned her gaze with his.

  She moved slightly, her lips parting. He moved closer, hardly daring to breathe… Before their lips touched, though, her knee slammed up into his groin. Hard.

  Agony laced through him. Lightning arched through his body and stole his ability to breathe, to think... to do anything. Staggering backward a half step, he hunched over and curled protectively around his male organs.

  “Forced to follow their cocks, you mean!” she hissed, pushing at his shoulder to get him away from her. He snarled and held on, shoving the pain from his mind as he whirled her around and pinned her against him, back against his chest and a hard arm around her waist.

  “Do not try that again,” he warned. “Fortunately for your mate, I am not like other males. I would not have harmed you or availed myself of your body. I merely intend to return you to him with a lesson learned.”

  “Yeah, to not trust the fucking Lathar no matter what,” she snarled and tried to slam her head back into his nose. “And you keep talking about my mate. I don’t have one.”

  He froze for a second at the revelation, absently quelling her struggles as her words sank in. He’d assumed all the human females aboard had already been paired up with suitable mates, given to those warriors who had the emperor’s favor... aka the K’Vass. That even such a spikey and abrasive female as this had not been granted to some lucky male didn’t sit with his worldview and it took a few seconds to reset.

  No wonder she was so willful and stubborn. So aggressive. She had no male to look to for protection, no one to care for her. Abruptly, he eased his grip, letting her go. She bolted from his arms like a scalded deearin.

  “Please accept my apologies, my lady,” he said gruffly. “I was not aware you were as yet unclaimed.”

  She shot him a look full of venom as she stalked over to scoop her blade up. “So if I was, that gives you the right to be an asshole and assault me? But because I’m not, you become the perfect gentleman all of a sudden?”

  He frowned for a second, her odd words taking a moment to filter through his translation matrix. However, sometimes it took the matrices a moment to figure out the translation of a word or sometimes, as he’d noted during the course of his conversation with Indra, it gave up altogether.

  “I am not familiar with this word... gentleman. I am not a gentle man. I am a warrior. A paladin,” he said with pride. “I deal with my enemies ruthlessly, for the glory of the goddess.”

  “Huh. Figures the sexy one is a damn priest. Too busy praying to get down and dirty... bloody waste, if you ask me,” she huffed as she returned the blade to its sheath at her waist and pocketed a roll of tape. Quite why she had a roll of tape he didn’t know. That fact was ignored as he cocked his head, focusing on her words.

  “Priest...” That word he knew. But... “I am no priest. I am a paladin. My service is sworn to the goddess.”

  “Yeah, yeah... blah blah blah.” She made an odd motion as though her hand was talking and started to walk off. He blocked her path.

  “I got that bit. Put another record on. And get the fuck out of my way.”

  “It is not a... record, as you put it. But my life.”

  He bowed and indicated she should precede him down the corridor in the opposite direction to the one she’d intended. It was not a request. “I am taking you back to your quarters. You can either walk, or I can put you over my shoulder. The choice is entirely yours.”

  Now he knew she didn’t have a male to protect her, and thanks to his vow to the emperor, that duty now lay with him. Which meant no more roaming about the ship unaccompanied. A shudder rolled down his spine at the thought of what could have happened to her. Even on a ship like the Izal’vias, crewed mostly with K’Vass, there could be miscreants. Warriors with less than honorable intentions determined to claim a female for themselves regardless of the cost or consequences. Regardless of the female’s thoughts on the matter.

  He was forced to think on that as Indra grumbled but fell into step with him. It had never occurred to him to think that the female might not wish for a match. Growling in the back of his throat, he shook the thought off. Females did as they were told and should accept the claim of a male deemed worthy of them by people who knew more about these matters. Heavens, if they were left to their own devices, they might decide not to mate at all... and then where would their species be?

  Silence stretched out between them as he marched her back to the human sector aboard, but he didn’t miss the glares she shot his way.

  “Which room is yours?” he asked, eyebrow raised when she stood in the middle of the corridor, arms folded mutinously over her chest.

  The little pout of her lips teased him. Before, when he’d thought she was mated, he had allowed his mind to drift down the route of fantasy... imagining how he would soften her pursed lips with kisses until she was pliant and eager in his arms... but now he knew she was unclaimed, such thoughts were far t
oo dangerous. So he put them from his mind and frowned.

  “I can simply query the ship’s computer,” he said with a sigh, “if you insist on being difficult.”

  She shot him a look that would have shriveled a lesser warrior on the spot. Indeed, his balls still ached from the force of her ire, but he met her gaze levelly. He was not leaving, as she obviously wanted, until he had delivered her safely to her quarters.

  “That one there,” she snapped, jerking her chin toward a door to the left of them.

  “Excellent.” He smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Shall we?”

  He indicated the door, which slid open as soon as they approached. A small warning prickled in the back of his mind. These doors should not auto-open, not even in a supposed safe space like the human sector aboard. He would have to look into that tomorrow.

  “You’re not coming in.” She stopped in the doorway, her mutinous expression back.

  “I do not intend to,” he reassured her, staying safely in the middle of the corridor. “I merely wish to see that you are safely settled in your quarters and then I will return to duty.”

  Her eyebrow winged up, a strange expression crossing her face he didn’t recognize. “Huh. Good. I wouldn’t invite you in anyway, not if you were the last man on Earth.”

  He shrugged. “I fail to see the relevance of your comment. I am not a ‘man’ but a warrior and we are not on Earth.”

  “No, you’re a pain in the ass prick jumped up on his own importance!” she hissed and stepped backward, glaring at him until the doors closed between them.

  He grunted in approval and turned to go, which was when he realized he was being watched. A male stood in the doorway a couple down, one shoulder against the edge of the retracted door. The sight of him brought Nyek up sharp. At first glance he’d have said the male was Lathar, but his odd clothing and something about his bearing said he was not.

  Which meant…

  “I didn’t realize there were any human males on board.”

  The human grinned, thumbs looped in his belt in a nonchalant pose. “I’m the only one. Kinda special in that respect.” His gaze flicked to Indra’s closed door but he didn’t comment.

  “You’d be the new XO then.”

  “Indeed. You are?”

  “Stephens.”

  The male didn’t offer any more information, so Nyek just nodded and continued on his way. He still had to train this evening and then there was a mountain of reports to catch up on before he could even think about assigning warriors to the AI retrieval mission.

  A deep sense of calm filled him as he put the disturbing female from his mind and sank back into the comfort of the familiar lines and routines of his duty.

  All was as it should be. Order was restored to the ship without random humans wandering about.

  “Fucking pain in the ass alien!”

  Indra hissed at the door after it closed on Nyek standing there. She didn’t care if he heard or not. He was an arrogant pain in the ass alien and also the hottest man of any species she’d ever seen.

  “Wouldn’t touch him if he was the last man on any damned planet,” she huffed and turned away from the door.

  The rooms she’d been given were so large that when she’d arrived she’d had to check with Madison that this was, in fact, all for her.

  It wasn’t a room. It was a suite. She’d never had a suite before. Ever. A large sitting room with comfortable couches facing a holographic entertainment system that could call up any film she cared to mention or even half remember was sectioned off from the bedroom by double doors that wouldn’t look out of place in a swanky hotel. The bedroom itself was just as large with a huge bed she could get lost in set against one wall. The other held closets bigger than the nooks she’d slept in on the streets and a door that led to a sumptuous bathroom.

  She’d expected something like the guest room on the mercenary ship that had rescued them—barely big enough for a couple of bunks with a claustrophobic excuse for a shower and WC in one corner. Even still, it was more than she’d had for years.

  And, more to the point, it had a locking door, something only someone used to living on the streets could consider a luxury. For her, it was freedom… the freedom to relax completely, knowing she was safe. The rest of the world was locked away and she could let her guard down.

  Even hot-as-hades Mr. Stick-up-his-ass hadn’t barged in here without permission. Something that surprised her, she mused as she strode toward the bathroom and its waiting tub. She’d seriously expected him to want to check no one could crawl into her rooms through the bathroom window or the ventilation shafts. Even though he didn’t seem to see her as a woman, something that for some reason irritated the daylights out of her, he seemed that sort of nitpicky. Dot the I’s and cross the T’s and all that.

  Shaking her head, she put the thought from her mind and started the shower. After living on the streets for so long and then being in prison, she had fallen in love with the thing as soon as she’d seen it. Quickly, she stripped down, leaving her clothes on the floor to pick up later as she walked straight into the large stall.

  A groan escaped her as the water hit her from all sides. The pressure was so high it felt like hundreds of little needles blasting her from all directions, massaging all her muscles like she had a hunky masseur in here. She closed her eyes and fell into that fantasy… strong hands over her skin, smoothing over her body. She arched in the embrace of the water, her fantasy man smiling as he pulled her closer. He turned her in his arms until her back was pressed against his chest, his hand sliding over her softly rounded stomach and heading lower until it slid between her thighs.

  “Hmmmmm,” she moaned, cupping her breasts and pressing back. In her mind’s eye she looked over her shoulder…

  And realized the quirk of her fantasy man’s lips was all too familiar, as was the way he held her. The same way Nyek had held her less than an hour ago in the hallway.

  “Fuck it!” she hissed, snapping herself out of the fantasy. Couldn’t the asshole leave her the fuck alone? Did he have to invade her private thoughts as well?

  Annoyed, she washed quickly, rinsing the suds of out her hair and off her skin with short, irritated movements. That had been shaping up to be a fucking amazing, totally X-rated daydream that with any luck would have ended in a bloody fantastic orgasm and Mr. Sexy Stick-up-his-ass had ruined it completely.

  Yanking the towel roughly across her skin to dry herself, she suddenly paused, her ears pricking up. For a second there she’d thought she heard movement in one of the outer rooms. Odd. She was alone in here. Safe. Or she should be anyway. That had been the point in her babysitter’s high-handed little display.

  No, there couldn’t be anyone in here. She shook her head and tried to dismiss the feeling. She was in the human sector on an alien warship, in a locked room guarded by murderous combat bots. No way would anyone sneak in here with her. But still, the hairs lifting on the back of her neck and years of experience watching her ass on the streets wouldn’t let her settle.

  With a sigh, she reached for her discarded clothes, pulling on her tank top and panties. Rule one in any kind of fight, clothing was not optional. Naked fights were only good when pillows and a good hard fuck were in the offing. Her inner diva wrinkled her nose at the idea of putting dirty clothes back on and she chuckled at herself. Just a few months ago anything under a week old she’d have seen as acceptable, longer if she really wanted to keep people away, but this high life had ruined her.

  She padded silently into the main room, dagger in hand and all her street senses on high alert. A first glance revealed everything was in its place as it should be. She didn’t let her guard down, though. Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure what, or even how she knew, but something was off about the room. The way the light fell maybe, or the fact someone she didn’t know was breathing the same air as she was.

  “Die human scum!”

  The attack came from the closet behind her,
a huge figure bearing down on her with the flash of a blade in her peripheral vision as she swung around. She dropped to the ground, the vicious blade shaving a few errant curls off the top of her mohawk. She slammed a foot up, catching her attacker in the gut and sending him sailing over her head more through the element of surprise than judgment.

  Shit. She should have put her boots back on.

  With a bellow she rolled back to her feet, dagger in hand. Not a moment too soon because her enemy, the biggest damn Lathar she’d ever seen, was already up and charging again.

  “Witch!” he hissed. “Cast not your wiles on me! They will not work!”

  She grunted as she blocked a solid swing. Her arm and shoulder threatened to go numb. Dagger against sword wasn’t good odds.

  “Nah, honey,” she threw back, slamming a solid roundhouse kick into the side of his leg. “You mean bitch and the only thing I got for you is a shitload of pain. Street-style.”

  She switched the blade to her left hand as he attacked that side and swung. Her uppercut caught him by surprise and he staggered back a few steps.

  She grinned. “Gotta be quicker than that, handsome.”

  He snarled and attacked again, wildly. She was forced to defend rapidly, backing up against one of the sofas. With nowhere else to go, she turned and ran, clambering over it and running along the back as he chopped at the leather behind her.

  “Help!” she bellowed, her voice pitched to carry. These walls weren’t that thick. Someone would hear her and come running. She hoped. “Help! FIRE!”

  She’d been brought up on the streets. A woman screaming was an everyday occurrence, but shout fire? That got people running.

  He swore a stream of what she assumed were Latharian profanities as he hacked at the back of the couch behind her. She felt the air part as she leapt clear, her heart singing with exhilaration. The path to the door was almost clear. If she could just get out to the corridor, she was home free.

  A hard hand wrapped around her ankle mid-flight and she was yanked backward. With a scream she crash-landed in the middle of the coffee table, the glass and metal structure shattering into a million pieces. He was on her in a heartbeat, casting his blades aside as he loomed above her. She’d lost her dagger mid-flight so she had nothing to defend herself as he pinned her down, wrapping huge hands around her throat.