Alien Commander's Mate (Warriors of the Lathar Book 6)

by Mina Carter

  Registering his presence, the doors to his quarters swept open as soon as they approached, and he walked through them. They were expansive, as befit a war commander. The walls of the first chamber were filled with his personal weaponry. It was where he relaxed—his personal space. It had long, low couches and small tables that contained racks of data-pads filled with texts from ancient warriors of note he liked to study in his spare time.

  Did his Amanda like to read? He wondered as he strode through the outer rooms and into his bedchamber. It was sparse and utilitarian, the big bed shoved under the large window-port that stretched halfway across the ceiling.

  The bed had originally been over on the other side of the room, but he’d moved it, preferring a view of the stars above his head as he slept. It reminded him of his childhood on the desert sands of his home planet. He couldn’t wait to wake to both that view and his new little mate in his arms.

  Shivering with the thought of that pleasure in the future, he laid her down gently on his bed. She murmured in her sleep and then snuggled down against the soft covers. The soft pout of her lips drew his attention again and he had to resist the temptation to claim her lips. But… he wanted to do that for the first time when she was awake and could kiss him back.

  Pulling his mind away from such thoughts, he removed her soft shoes and froze, fascinated. Her feet were tiny and perfectly formed, the toenails painted a soft pink. She moaned as he touched them and he was about to pull away, worried that he’d hurt her, when he looked up to find she was looking at him with sleep-dark eyes. She wasn’t really awake, he realized. His touch had roused her enough to open her eyes but that was it.

  “Do you like that, little one?” he murmured, his voice as soft as he could make it to avoid waking her up further. She gave a small nod, her tiny toes spreading in pleasure as he wrapped a big hand around her foot.

  “S’nice,” she whispered, slurring her words a little. Whatever Zaan had given her obviously made her very relaxed. “Do it more.”

  So Fenriis, war commander of the K’Vass and feared warrior of the black sands, found himself sitting on the edge of his own bed, a human female’s tiny feet in his lap as he gently rubbed them. Her skin was so soft, he marveled, and her feet so delicate he felt the bones within. He had to moderate his strength, knowing that, at the very least he could bruise her and at the worst, break one of those delicate bones.

  She moaned, head thrown back against the pillows as he ran his thumb up the soft arch underneath. The soft sounds of pleasure sent his arousal sky-rocketing again and he couldn’t help but imagine her making those sounds as he was braced over her, buried balls deep in her welcoming softness as he claimed her.

  He clamped down on the feeling, rubbing her feet soothingly until the drugs in her system and his touch worked their magic and she slipped into sleep again. He held her feet for a little while longer, watching her sleep before forcing himself to tuck her in and leave the room.

  He had a lot of plans to make if he was going to keep his promise to his little mate.

  Chapter Three

  “And how do we know you’ll keep your word on that?”

  Fenriis bit back his sigh, gritting his teeth at the demand from the Earth general "seated" opposite him in the conference room. Through the magic of superior technology, General Hopkins was not actually present but merely a holographic projection of the man. He was, instead, seated safely aboard his own ship, maintaining its position a little off the port bow of the Veral’vias. At least, he appeared to think he was safe, which had led to more than a fair share of overconfidence and arrogance.

  “Because I have given my word, and the word of a war commander is good throughout the empire,” he replied. He’d rapidly come to the assessment that Hopkins was an ass. And worse, a short-sighted ass, who appeared to think his military was the best in existence.

  Hopkins frowned. “Ah, yes… but Earth is not part of your empire, no matter what you lot might think.”

  Fenriis saw Danaar, seated next to him, start and shook his head slightly. Danaar, while an excellent senior warrior and one of his best assets on the battlefield, was a little too blunt and uncompromising for such delicate negotiations.

  In truth, Fenriis wasn’t quite sure why the emperor had entrusted the opening meetings to him. He wasn’t a diplomat himself. He was a desert warrior, one who had risen far higher than he’d ever thought possible to command a destroyer.

  But it had brought him here, to find his little Amanda, and for that he was grateful. Even if he did have to sit here and listen to drivel.

  “Earth is currently under the protection of the empire—”

  Hopkins cut him off with a dismissive gesture. “Yes, you’ve said that several times. Putting us ‘under your protection’ is mighty convenient since you lot have your eye on our women. Isn’t it?”

  Oh this male was an utter draanthing idiot. Fenriis bit back his retort and looked at Hopkins levelly, but the human wasn’t done.

  “In fact, I’m thinking it might be in our interests to canvass other species than the Lathar. Their interests might be more in line with ours,” he mused, rubbing at his chin in a motion Fenriis assumed the human thought made him look intelligent. It didn’t. It just made him look like the idiot he was.

  “Really?” At that Fenriis couldn’t hold in his incredulity. “You seriously want to approach someone else for protection? We’re the same damn species, you arrogant, conceited fool!”

  “No,” Hopkins looked like he’d swallowed a Kinorris—the yellow and black venomous insects that plagued some areas of Lathar Prime—his expression mulish. “We are human. You are Lathar. We are not the same.”

  “Oh well, that’s fine then.” Fenriis sat back in his chair, his gaze sharp as he looked at the human general. “Shall I list the other species and what you should expect from them?”

  The other warriors around the table had grim faces as Fenriis started to list them off. “We should start with the Ovverta. Those draanthic are into hunting. They make planet’s fall and they wipe out every species on a planet. Not because they have a problem with them, or they want the planet or anything. Not even because they’re hunting for food. No, they do it for fun. They wipe out other species because it amuses them.”

  Danaar’s shoulders had tightened as he spoke, so he added. “But no, you can’t approach the Ovverta for aid because they tried to wipe the wrong species out and were almost annihilated. They were chased to the very edges of the universe and even now if one shows its face, they are hunted to death.”

  Hopkins blinked. “Who did that to them? What species did they try and wipe out?”

  Fenriis grinned, but the expression held no humor.

  “Us.”

  The humans around the table started in surprise, but he concealed his amusement at their reaction and carried on. “Then there’s the Krin. They’re born in pods, and they’re usually taller than the tallest Latharian warrior. Massively powerful and strong. And you know what their kink is?”

  The humans shook their heads, their eyes wide like younglings being told ghost stories.

  “They like to eat other species,” Danaar supplied in a rough voice. All attention switched to the big senior warrior. “I once had to clear a colony that had been hit by one of their attacks. It was a party for them,” he snarled. “They’d arrived en masse and captured the colonists. Most were dead, their empty bodies cast aside like food wrappers, but some were still alive… barely. Broken remnants of beings missing parts of themselves they needed to survive.”

  The admiral next to Hopkins looked like he was going to be sick. “You mean… they were alive when these Krin ate them?”

  Fenriis nodded grimly. “The Krin say the screaming and pain adds flavor to the meat. They’ve developed ways to keep their food alive even as they cut into them, even as they devour organs and systems that are necessary for life. They’ve become absolute experts at keeping other species alive. If those draanthic found Earth, yo
u’d be the biggest all you can eat buffet in history.”

  “Holy crap. We need to increase our defenses.”

  Danaar shrugged. “Won’t do you any good. The colony I went to? It was one of ours.”

  “Are those the only ones we need to be careful of?” Another human got up the courage to ask, trying hard to conceal the tremor in his voice. Most of them were old males, so far in their dotage Fenriis couldn’t understand how they would be effective commanding on the battlefield. What would happen when they needed to inspire their men? Males this old could barely lift their own pens, never mind a weapon.

  “No,” he stated bluntly. “Let’s not forget the Seratovians. Shapeshifters,” he added at their blank looks. “You wouldn’t even know they were among you until one shifted and went on a blood-lust fueled killing spree. Fortunately, they don’t often travel out of their home systems. Then… we have the Krynassis. They’re a lizard race almost as capable as we are. If a hive-queen takes a liking to your planets?” He shrugged and spread his hands. “Let's just say that unlike the Krin, or Ovverta, they’re generous. She’d probably give you say… twelve hours to vacate the surface before her warriors started to wipe you out.”

  “Twelve hours… That’s…” the old male stuttered.

  “So what you’re saying,” a female interjected, one who had been silent up to now. “Is that we need you.”

  In a smart suit, she was the only nonmilitary representative amongst the group. Fenriis flicked a glance over the notes he’d been given. Madison Cole, Vice-president of Terra and her colonies. If he had their structure right, she was the second most powerful human in their empire. The heir to President Halland’s "throne."

  He studied her with interest. Not as tall as the men, but certainly taller than his Amanda, her clothing was practically a uniform of its own, the severe cut hinting at the feminine form beneath. Her light-colored hair was caught back from her face, and intelligent blue eyes studied him keenly. The quirk of her lips said she knew he was assessing her, just as she was assessing him.

  “Bluntly put, yes.” He nodded. “Given we are actually from the same stock species, we have a vested interest in ensuring the survival of the human race.” They just don’t know how much yet. “So much so that our emperor, Daaynal K’Saan, has extended his personal protection to your entire species.”

  “Yes,” Madison smiled, latching onto that. “Let’s talk about that. What does that actually mean? We are aware of the women you took from Sentinel Five and some of your history regarding interactions with other races. Namely your habit of stealing women away…”

  Draanth. He really hadn’t wanted to go into this here. This was high level shit Daaynal needed to be answering.

  “As a race, yes, we had previously attempted to ease our reproductive problems by abducting compatible females of other species,” he started carefully. “But that practice has stopped.”

  It had stopped as soon as word had gotten out about humans.

  Madison tilted her head to the side. “And why is that?”

  “You,” Danaar broke in, his deep rumble making the female transfer her attention over to him. The fact the big warrior couldn’t take his eyes off her was obvious. He’d been staring at her since she’d logged in, her holographic form directly opposite him.

  “Me?” The female’s lips pursed and Fenriis practically heard the groan all his men were biting back. It was a clever tactic, including a female. It pretty much ensured his senior warriors were distracted. Not him though. As appealing as the Terran woman was… he had his Amanda. His tastes ran to tiny and delicate these days.

  “Yes…” Danaar’s voice was rough. “We only want human females now… and the emperor says you’re all under his protection. So we have to play nice. Then we might be allowed to come and court you.”

  She blinked at his words. They were direct, as though Danaar were referring to the two of them. Then she laughed a little, her voice so high and delicate it was hypnotizing.

  “Oh come on, surely one man doesn’t hold that kind of power?”

  “Daaynal K’Saan is a warrior emperor,” Fenriis said flatly. “He is also a born emperor in a society where assassination is a viable career advancement option. Rumor has it he killed his first team of assassins when he was nine years old… and he has defended his throne for longer than my lifetime.”

  She pursed her lips, looking impressed, but was quick to rally. “Okay. So that means you lot aren’t going to land en masse and start rounding us up. Good to know. What can you tell me about the incident in Stanton? We have reports of your warriors on the ground and property destruction. Three women have been listed as missing: Jacqueline Wright, Amanda Kallson and Elizabeth Kallson.”

  Fenriis paused. He couldn’t lie here because if he did and the lie was discovered, it could kill any chance of a treaty dead in the water before talks had even begun. Plus, how would he explain Amanda’s presence on his ship? He couldn’t hide her away, and there was no way he was letting them take her from him. He’d burn the whole fucking system to dust before that happened.

  “We received intelligence that there might be a non-Terran presence on the surface, so we dispatched a specialist team to check.”

  There. He wasn’t lying, not really. Xaandryn had been an assassin, and he was a war commander… they weren’t normal warriors by any stretch of the imagination.

  “Three females were found at the site, requiring medical attention. They were removed for treatment—”

  “You kidnapped some of our women?” Hopkins leapt to his feet, his voice full of outrage. “This is preposterous! You will return them immediately!”

  “General!” Madison’s voice cut through the air like a whip, the glare she directed at Hopkins cutting. When the male sat down, she returned her attention to Fenriis, her look expectant. “War Commander?”

  He nodded, impressed by her poise and politeness. She’d even gotten his rank correct. “Unfortunately, we will not be returning any of them in the foreseeable future. Two of the women have been sent to our healer’s hall on Lathar Prime as we do not have the facilities to treat them onboard.”

  She gave a soft smile in reply. “Totally understandable. I thank you for taking them in during their hour of need. And the third female?”

  “Amanda Kallson will also not be returned.” Just saying her old name made his voice rumble in the back of his throat. “As she has agreed to become my mate, she is now Amanda K’Vass.”

  For once, Amanda didn’t wake in a coughing fit that felt like her lungs were trying to hack their way out of her body by themselves. Instead, a quiet murmur left her lips and she stretched leisurely, warm and comfortable in her sleepy cocoon. It was so rare that she woke up not in pain, she wanted to savor the feeling a little while longer.

  But the sound of a shower broke through her comfortable little reverie and she frowned. While she had a shower in her tiny en-suite, Roger rarely ever stayed over…

  Roger.

  Her eyes snapped open as the memories of yesterday caught up with her. Roger proposed, being an ass and getting turned down… The big, sexy alien who’d taken her up to his ship. Fenriis.

  Her eyes opened wider as she took in her surroundings. She was in the biggest bed she’d ever seen, comfortably wrapped up in soft, warm blankets so cozy she felt the pull to snuggle back down into them. Quickly, she pulled the edge to peek beneath. Still clothed. Someone had obviously put her to bed at some point but had stopped short of removing her clothes while she was out of it. Good. The idea of someone looking at her while she was unconscious… she shivered and not in a good way.

  The sound of the running shower caught her attention again and she looked around. The main door was easy to spot, the view through it giving her a glimpse of a living space, so her attention turned to the door to her right. The sound of water was coming from in there.

  Warily, she slid from the bed as quietly as she could. There was nothing in here she could use for a weapon, so
she scooped up one of her shoes from the floor by the bed. Someone had taken them off her feet and placed them down neatly where she could find them. Sure, a ballet flat wasn’t the most terrifying thing in the world but right now, she’d take what she could get.

  Gripping the shoe firmly in her hand, she crept toward the door. The carpet was deep and plush against her bare toes, so her steps were soundless as she approached. She’d agreed to become Fenriis’ mate, so it stood to reason that these were his quarters. Given the way he’d reacted when Danaar had tried to touch her hair, she doubted he’d allow any other man in here with her. Especially while she was asleep.

  Which meant it was probably Fenriis in the shower…

  She bit her lip as the idea of the big alien in the shower filled her head. He was big-built, like the rest of the Lathar, with dark, sexy looks that made her shiver and want to thank creation she’d been born female… but she’d only seen him in the heavy armor some of them seemed to wear.

  Would he be ripped like the others? Like the doctor with all his scars or Danaar, the warrior who’d tried to touch her hair? She tried to imagine it as butterflies fluttered low in her stomach but couldn’t. So she did the only thing any self-respecting red-blooded woman would do.

  She snuck up to the edge of the doorway and peeked around.

  It was Fenriis in the shower. She gasped at the sight and then bit her lip, hoping the sound had been smothered under that of the running water. The bathroom was both familiar and not at the same time, with tiled walls and vanity units and what had to be a toilet. Huh, seemed that there were only so many designs for that in the galaxy…

  But none of that held her attention. That was all reserved for the man standing butt-naked in the corner, water cascading over his bare skin. There was no shower cubicle, the whole room appearing to be a wet room. Fenriis stood with his back to her, his hands braced over the hexagonal tiles with his head under the water.