Alien Romance: The Barbarian's Owned: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Mates Book 1)

by Marla Therron

  I think to humans, it’s a type of play. Like wearing masks, which later they remove so that they can be equals again.

  Blasphemy.

  It is. But one of you will reconcile to the other, or neither will. There is no compromise between these two paths. It is either human love or Ythirian submission.

  This observation took the wind from Garr’s lungs. He had no desire to crush Dr. Rae Ashburn’s desires, but nor did he plan on introducing to his people this outrageous, human taboo of mutual submission to one another.

  Sir?

  I’m thinking.

  Sir! Your mate. She’s gone!

  Garr wheeled and glanced behind them, where he’d sensed Rae moments ago. She had vanished.

  ***

  Rae charged through the swamp with geysers erupting to her left and right. A jet burst from the ground directly in her path, spattering her in scalding droplets and filling her vision with vapor, hiding the insect swarm she’d been chasing. She felt brief terror, wondering if she’d misread Lyr’s signals.

  The steam cleared before she reached it, though, and ahead was that same twinkling. She reached them and let out a whoop.

  Then Vaya broke through a spraying geyser at her flank. She skidded to a stop and snatched Rae’s shoulder in one hand. “Got you, you slippery runt!”

  “Let me go!”

  “Where are you even going?” The giantess wheeled, searching for Garr. They must have split up.

  “Home.”

  Vaya narrowed her eyes. “You have a way back, don’t you?”

  Rae firmed her jaw. She had no desire to answer.

  But Vaya was always quick on the uptake. “You’ve got a side deal going with Lyr.” Under her breath: “Can’t believe we trusted her.” Shaking her head, she appraised Rae more carefully.

  “Please just let me go,” Rae whimpered. “You know I’m not right for this world.”

  Vaya nibbled her lower lip, glancing back through the fog for Garr. “Not mine to decide. It’s my prime’s.” She released Rae’s arm.

  “But don’t you dare even think about running again. Your legs are short, you’re slow, and this place might just kill you for the effort.”

  Rubbing her freed arm, Rae brooded quietly.

  Just then, a geyser just six feet away exploded, jettisoning so much steam and scalding water that Rae couldn’t see a thing. However, it had been closer to Vaya than her, and she heard the giantess curse in Ythirian.

  With the air so foggy, Rae realized it was an invitation from Lyr to flee. She took off again, spotting another reflective swarm ahead.

  They proved to be the edge of the geyser jungle, and before long there were green plants on all sides of her.

  She’d have cheered, except that the forest abruptly opened into a clearing—one wreathed entirely in those razor vines, so that she was penned in. More vines descended behind her, and Rae began to wonder precisely what Lyr was planning. Rae was effectively imprisoned in that circular patch of open terrain.

  Then she heard it—the crunching from the canopy above her.

  It was that thing, the tentacle beast from the treetops back for her again. It had followed them.

  And that had been her role for Lyr all along, Rae realized. She was bait.

  Chapter Six

  Garr tore through the jungle, headed straight for Vaya’s shouts. She struggled through a vapor cloud, shielding her eyes and gesticulating with two hands toward the edge of the jungle. “That way! I—I think.”

  Geysers cut him off. He snarled and wrapped his limbs in otoya, leaping through the steam and ignoring the searing pain that still assaulted his skin underneath.

  The fabric absorbed the brunt of the heat, fibers converting thermal energy and storing it, so that he burst out the other side crackling with spare electrical discharge. It made his fine hairs go on end.

  Vaya had sent him out of the forest only slightly off course, but he could scent his mate and the terror coming from her pores. He made for the dense canopy, prepared to use an otoya blade to slice down the razor vines that blocked his path.

  ***

  That treetop monster dropped from the canopy and into the clearing. It hit the ground with an almost wet thud. Rae still had no sense for its shape, since it was the same color and texture as the squama plates and foliage of the Skorvag.

  However, as it rose over her, its flesh turned inky and smooth; most of the creature was powerful tentacles the width of tree trunks at their roots, but at the epicenter of those horrific, wriggling appendages was a center mass that was mostly teeth. It split nearly in half with the width of its jaws, and it had a half dozen more tentacles wriggling inside its pink mouth.

  Most disturbing, those tongues were each tipped in a separate and torturous instrument—corkscrews, pincers, rippers, and tiny clawed fingers.

  The beast slicked forward on pseudopods made of muscular fibers, its precise shape still hard to make out because every part of it was in constant motion. It made a clicking, squealing sound like a dolphin.

  Rae backed from the horror, heart pounding in the back of her throat.

  It lunged, two of its tentacles lancing for her like straight, inky slashes—each tentacle spiked in a wicked talon intent on skewering her.

  Just before they landed, something seized her, carrying her abruptly through the air.

  ***

  His mate under attack, Garr swept in and picked her up in both arms. Her slow human nervous system wasn’t fast enough to react to the beast, and so he released her at the clearing’s edge, spinning to face the monster.

  Another tentacle speared for him: the creature used the same method of attack as the underwater decabeast, except faster.

  Yet Garr was faster still. He twisted just far enough to the side that the tentacle shot past him, leaving only a thin, searing cut to his ribs instead of running him through. He brought his blade around, and before the creature could retract its limb, he hacked it off.

  Violet ribbons of blood filled the air and the scent of it drove him wild.

  His heart a burning coal, his blood liquid fire, Garr charged, slicing off a second tentacle before it even reached him.

  The beast cracked a third appendage through the air like a whip, taking him by surprise—decabeasts never tried those attacks, since they were too slow underwater. But in the air? It came on lightning quick, and was so unexpected it smashed him in the ribs and tossed him like a rag doll.

  ***

  Rae could barely keep track of Garr; he moved like a wild beast. His roar was blood curdling, the swipe of his metallic weapons too swift to fathom. He left a trail of blood and severed viscera in his wake.

  The creature’s retaliatory swipe tossed him onto the ground, but he rolled with it.

  He never stopped moving. The beast, by comparison, was ungainly—its main form of locomotion on the ground was to slam a tentacle’s spike into the earth and drag itself along in a swift, zig-zagging pattern. But Garr worked through those tendrils and flicked them off the creature one at a time.

  Its animal screams went up an octave, wailing like a siren as Garr ripped it to shreds in front of her.

  It managed to grip his sword in one of its tongue pincers, but Garr brutally seized the tongue and ripped it from the creature’s mouth, rending its flesh with strength Rae hadn’t thought possible.

  Then he drove its center mass through with two otoya swords, lifting it bodily into the air. The animal strength in his back and shoulders was on display as he ripped it cleanly in two, sending a torrent of violet blood through the clearing.

  And through the bestial display, he roared in triumph.

  It fell dead and he hacked at it anyway, seeming to fight not until it was dead, but until he was satisfied.

  ***

  The beast had attacked his mate—a prime’s mate—and Garr did not stop hacking at it until no single piece resembled the original creature it had been.

  To threaten a prime’s mate was the most gr
ievous of sins, and if he’d have suspected Lyr were at all involved, he might have started striking out at her as well.

  Instead, glancing to Rae, he confirmed she was still unharmed.

  Unharmed, but there was something in her eyes. A wide-eyed terror that he recognized as the fear prey had for its natural predator. She wasn’t looking at the monster, either, but rather him.

  Unsure what to do, Garr approached her. “You are safe now,” he said, realizing he literally dripped with the blood of the thing he’d just killed.

  Aghast, she only managed a weak and petrified nod. She didn’t believe she was safe at all. In watching him move, in watching him not just hunt but rage against this sacrilegious, woman-attacking beast, he had filled her with dread.

  In that moment, Garr did not feel like he should have—he did not feel like her protector.

  Chapter Seven

  When Vaya reached the clearing, she and Garr had a terse discussion about the monster. Rae caught bits of the conversation as she lingered at the clearing’s edge, unable to take her eyes off the human-shaped animal she’d watched so effortlessly take apart that monster.

  The sight of him had inspired many feelings in her—before the combat, irritation and outrage chief among them. She’d feared him at first, but in the way she would fear any powerful male who tried to cow her. She hadn’t understood until now precisely how inhuman a Ythirian could be.

  He hadn’t moved like a human—he had been twice as fast and many times stronger. She’d seen a few professional fights, thanks to her father’s obsession with them, and knew just enough to say firmly that the things Garr could do in combat weren’t possible with a human’s physiology.

  It wasn’t just in the physical speed or strength, but the mental acuity required to deftly avoid the types of strikes the monster had used.

  She gathered from their conversation that the creature attacking them had no name. It reminded them of a mixture of two other species: an aquatic organism called a decabeast and a toothy land-based predator called a razza’gar.

  There was an open question as to whether Lyr had created the aberration. After a moment of communion with the domé, Vaya confirmed that Lyr had no idea where the creature had come from.

  “It’s definitely a war form, though.” Vaya’s tone was worried. “Haven’t been any in ages.”

  “Only a domé could make this.” Garr had cleaned off the blood with help from his otoya clothing, and glanced now into the treetops.

  “Take a sample. When we get to the tree house, you’ll carry the sample to Kaython’s Mouth and she’ll be able to tell us who made it.”

  A tree house? Rae wondered.

  Vaya spotted the confusion on her face. “The tree house is a lodge at Kaython’s border. We based ourselves there.”

  Rae’s mind reeled. Not only has this alien kidnapped me, but he’s taking me to his tree house.

  Vaya cut a sample from the beast’s gory remains. Garr also took a nine-inch talon from the tip of its largest tentacle, probably as a trophy. Rae shuddered at the barbaric act and tried to stick closer to Vaya when they restarted their journey.

  Later, while crossing a wide, shallow river, Rae slipped on a slimy stone and Vaya caught her under the arms. “Thanks,” Rae murmured.

  “You are my prime’s taliyar. I am always at your service.”

  Rae glanced ahead at Garr, who had turned to peer at them from the shore. Rae immediately averted her eyes, terrified of the way he looked at her.

  “You fear him?” Vaya asked.

  Rae opened her mouth to deny it. Then she sighed and nodded.

  “Not uncommon. He terrified me the first time I watched him spar a senior soldier. We all have our gifts. Garr’s strength, speed, and battle prowess are his. He’s a force of nature on the battlefield, and doubly so if enraged.”

  “It wasn’t human—not even close,” Rae whispered.

  “Yeah, you’re the only human for like a bajillion light years,” Vaya mused. She knelt, to eye level, and offered an encouraging smile. “Relax. He’s not gonna hurt you. Ever. That I can promise you.”

  “How?” Rae belted out. “You couldn’t possibly know him that well.”

  “I know Prime Garr well enough to say this: he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to; and whatever he does want to do, he succeeds at. If he hurts something, it’s always on purpose. Since he would never want to hurt you, you’re safe with him.”

  Rae wasn’t so sure.

  Sensing her hesitancy, Vaya turned, continuing to wade. “He wasn’t always destined to be prime. Garr was low born.”

  “Does lineage matter in your society?” Rae asked. She was intensely curious about their culture, though more from an anthropological perspective than anything else.

  “The strength of an individual matters, and that’s got lots of genetics involved. As a result, yeah, lineage matters. For instance, our domé does what she can to predict a male’s compatibility with a female, and produces a number—we call it a genetic amplifier.

  If the amplifier is over a hundred, it means the offspring will be stronger than the parents. Primes are very strong, so strong they almost never have genetic amplifiers above one hundred. They’re so mighty that the best they can hope for is that their offspring will be close to their strength.”

  Rae nodded, absorbing that knowledge. The facts made her feel a little sad for their society.

  “Garr wasn’t born as strong as the last prime of domé Kaython. His parents died… badly.” Vaya didn’t say anything more about it, but went on.

  “He was adopted, and his adoptive father taught him to be kinda badass. While Garr wasn’t born that way, it was something he picked up. His victories accrued, his gifts from Kaython along with them, and now he’s among the strongest primes anywhere on Ythir.

  So strong that when it was announced he’d found a mate with a 98 percent genetic amplifier, we were all excited. Primes as powerful as Garr never find such perfect mates.”

  Rae blinked. “Wait. We couldn’t possibly be that well matched. We’re not even the same species.”

  “You aren’t. Kaython can’t determine your amplifier, since you’re human. That was Yahlalla, the daughter of Kaython’s former prime—but Garr turned her down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Vaya insisted, “Garr never does anything he doesn’t want to. And he didn’t want her.” Vaya tapped Rae’s shoulder. “He wanted you.”

  Perhaps it should have made Rae feel better, but it didn’t. Worse yet, they exited the river wet, and her shoes were once again waterlogged. Near dusk, they scaled an incline until they were among high ridges, the valley shrinking smaller behind them.

  The ridges were colder, particularly with the sun nearly gone, and it hadn’t been out long enough to dry her clothes. A brisk wind hit her damp body and elicited a shiver.

  She also stumbled over roots more and more, and Rae wondered how long Garr would march them in the dark.

  “Why are you tripping?” he growled, perhaps irritated by Rae consistently doing her best to keep Vaya in between them all day long.

  Her anxiety at being so close to something so deadly had coiled inside her tighter and tighter all day long, and in that frustrated moment, it finally found its release: “Because it’s dark!” she shouted, the sound echoing off the trees and crags, louder than she’d expected.

  Her heart caught and palms broke out in a cool sweat when she realized he was staring at her with those glittery-bright eyes in the dark. “Oh God. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to holler, I’m just—”

  “You’re night blind?” he asked, voice soft.

  That gentle tone briefly made her freeze, unsure what to expect from him. “I’m human. We’re all night blind.” It frustrated her that he didn’t know, but she didn’t dare show it.

  “That sucks,” Vaya said. “You can see colors at least, right?”

  “Yes,” Rae said, swallowing her irritation behind a too-wide smile.
“I can see freaking colors. Geez.”

  “Good.” Vaya smiled. “The pollen leapers in Lyr have gorgeous infrared patterns and I’d hate for you to have missed them.”

  Rae let out a long, pent up sigh and didn’t correct her.

  “Maybe we should stop, boss. Unless you want to carry her.”

  Garr grunted. “Ask Lyr permission to sleep here.”

  Vaya settled into her commune-with-nature pose and Garr scanned the distance. Rae huddled against a squama, trying to siphon some heat from the rough scale.

  It was subtly warmer than the air, and broke the worst of the breeze. Her whole body shook from the chill drilled into her by damp clothes and hair.

  There was sufficient starlight through the trees for her to see Garr’s approach. She shrank into the squama, and startled when he took hold of her by the shoulder, dragging her against him.

  Squirming in terror, she thought for one horrifying moment he was attacking her—but no. It was different. He wasn’t out of control anymore, and this was no attempt to harm her. It was just Garr behind his usual, handsy self.

  He settled back and held her against him, her back to his front, and his arms wrapping around her middle. She gripped his forearm, mind buzzing with quiet alarm, but the longer he stayed like that the more her pulse settled.

  His arms were warm flesh melted over coiled steel, and Rae steadily realized how protective the gesture really was—and how much warmer it was tucked against him.

  Tired from the long march, she ultimately stopped wriggling and her mind went curiously blank. She merely savored the first moment she’d had around him since the clearing where she wasn’t afraid.

  “Better?” he asked. He liked being behind her, she realized—he was pressed close and speaking over her shoulder. Whenever he did it, her body reacted.

  Her tingling skin and trembling hands didn’t care one bit about his inhuman strength and speed. On a primal level, she was attracted to this inhuman being’s proximity.

  “Still not better than my hotel back on Earth,” Rae murmured.

  “I won’t apologize for destroying that beast.” He stroked the inner crook of her elbow in a way that felt so good she wormed away from it for fear she’d like it too much.