Warrior's Bond: BBW Science Fiction Alien Romance (Yadeshi Brides Book 1)

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Warrior's Bond: BBW Science Fiction Alien Romance (Yadeshi Brides Book 1) Page 3

by Emma Alisyn


  His head tilted, black hair slithering over bared shoulders and arms- arms wrapped in sapphire and black tattoos composed of intricate liens and dots in a snaking pattern. As if he needed anything else to make him appear more… other. But if his intention was to bring attention to the nearly waist length hair, he had a point. Why worry about pants when hair was in the way?

  After a moment, he said, with no appearance of mockery, “If my skills are so poor I worry about an enemy grabbing my clothing, I would not be Adekhan.”

  Zoriah shrugged. “Okay. Well, I’m here. Where do you want me to watch?”

  He gestured, and a human male broke away from a crouch against a wall, springing towards them and halting on the balls of his feet with a salute.

  “Bring my aja’eka’s mother a cushion,” Benyon said, then turned back to her. “He will see to you.”

  And then the alien bowed, saluting her, and gestured to her three children, who ran and fell into places among a group of others near their ages.

  ***

  She couldn’t deny the beauty, the symmetry of the dance he put the children through. There was no mistaking the marital natures of the movements- and when they began handling lightswords her heart nearly stopped until she realized the intensity of the beams was set to sting and not kill. He rapped commands, but his corrections were kind. After a time, the children formed a tight knit group and began speeding through a series of motions, chanting in unison.

  “What were they saying?” she asked when he joined her in her corner.

  Benyon crouched on his heels, perfectly balanced, hair touching the floor.

  “Your blood is my life,

  And this is my bond,

  First will I die

  Before allowing you harm.”

  He paused. “It’s a clumsy translation, but the language implants are still gathering data. Human tongues are fairly complex, which surprised us, considering-”

  Zoriah snorted when he stopped talking, lowering his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. Is it something you all say when fighting?”

  The sudden unveiling of silver eyes made her jump- even a moment’s respite was enough to forget their brilliance.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you mean it?”

  He held her gaze. “Always.” He paused. “My mother died defending me from enemies when I was a child.”

  Her breath stilled for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  Benyon rose, staring down at her with his inscrutable, infernally calm face. “It was a long time ago. You would like her house, I think.”

  “On your home planet? The one you described the other day?”

  “Yes. Would you like to see it?”

  Zoriah laughed, and then stopped when his expression didn’t change. Her heart sped up and she opened her mouth- to say what she didn’t know.

  “Ma, ma- did you see us?” Ashe skidded to a stop, Reign following at a more dignified pace.

  “Yes- you looked very competent.”

  It had amazed her, watching the fierce, graceful focus of her children. Seeing the shadow of the warriors Khalid and Reign could become. Ashe was harder to pin down.

  “I need to work on my Third Form,” Ashe said, beaming.

  “You need to work on all Twenty-Four,” Reign muttered.

  Benyon glanced at her and the elder daughter folded her lips. Zoriah stifled a grin. If the warrior could get Reign to hold her tongue with just a mild, inquisitive look, it said a lot. Reign wouldn’t obey the silent command of someone she didn’t respect- in that Zoriah trusted her children. They would never put up with abuse.

  “Endurance training,” Benyon said. “Go.” Her children bowed and ran off, light on their feet. “I asked you a question.”

  “I didn’t really take it seriously.” She shrugged, eyes glued to the activity in the gym. Everywhere but him. “Why would you want me to see your home world?”

  "Would you like to try the Forms?"

  She jerked her eyes back to him. "The training? I- it's been a while since I’ve done anything... physical."

  Zoriah looked down at her mommy body. She cooked from scratch, using the best ingredients she could afford. And there was a mile walk to and from the bus stop every day, plus cleaning and tending the small garden on the weekends. She wasn’t one to indulge in sweets, thank god. But... three babies and no exercise other than the daily grind. She certainly wasn't toned, or athletic.

  "Your body will do what you ask it to do," he said. Then smiled. "We will be strategic about what we ask it to do today- for your first session."

  Still, she hesitated. And for the first time, impatience sparked in his eyes and a glint of challenge.

  "Come. Is this the woman who bore Khalid, Reign, and Ashe? They cannot be warriors unless their mother is."

  Damn straight. Zoriah- fully aware she was being easily manipulated- straightened her spine and followed him as he took her to an unoccupied corner.

  "Alright, do your worse."

  His thin brows shot up and that tall, strong body with skin that rippled like calm waves over steel dropped into fighting stance.

  "Follow," he rapped.

  They ran through a series of movements, each one progressively complicated. Three times, and then he took her to the beginning and focused on just the first, adjusting her stance. Circling her, eyes keen- and merciless.

  "Do better," he said, at her back when she fumbled, adjusting the angle of her arms.

  She met his eyes, set her jaw, and did better. Faster, harder. Smoother. She was in pseudo jeans and a soft t-shirt, ideal for this kind of exercise. Her body warmed, her vision narrowing to the man in front of her. Black silk hair, whirling tattoos, eyes like a silver storm- eyes on fire, a small grin curving the side of his mouth.

  "Faster," he said, an implacable whisper. "Harder."

  Faster, harder. Faster, harder. The words of a teacher, a drill sergeant- or a lover. She stumbled, and he was there, hands on her skin, warm and deceptively soft- the strength in them both obvious and perfectly contained. He could crush her, kill her, or-

  Zoriah shuddered, pulling her mind away from that line of thought. Was it so bad, that simply having a man against her back was enough to-

  "You aren’t paying attention," he said in her ear.

  "Paying plenty of attention," she muttered. "Just to the wrong thing."

  "What?"

  She shook her head, "Never mind," and began to pull away. He stopped her, a hand wrapped around either wrist, slowly folding her arms into proper Form. Fingers trailing up her arms and then away. And she nearly turned, lunging after him. Anything for his touch again.

  Zoriah snapped into present time, sound and light returning. And saw the eyes on them. Anyone in the gym not occupied with their own training watched.

  "I- I think that's enough," she said.

  "Yes."

  She did turn then, and because he stood so close, she had to look up.

  "You did well. Give me yourself for five years and I will make a soldier of you."

  Did he have any clue how suggestive some of his wording was? Zoriah shook her head, opening her mouth.

  A finger on her lips, halting her. "Come. You need to eat and drink something."

  He took her hand, ignoring the people around them, and strode from the gym.

  4

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Benyon led her to a cafeteria- though it was unlike any she’d ever seen. The design was more cafe like, a stark contrast to the military feel of the gymnasium. A buffet with more dishes than Zoriah had ever seen grabbed her attention. Sliced meats and heaping platters of vegetables. Fresh fruit, whole grain breads and pastas. Even dessert.

  “You can have dessert?”

  He glanced at her. “Why not?”

  “Well-” she stopped, realizing the time a conversation about carbs, sugar and the human woman’s obsession with weight would take, and changed the subject. “These are mostly human dishes.”

  “Yes, we can eat
many human foods. Some are adapted from Yadeshi ingredients and are safe for you to eat.”

  Not wanting to ruin any residual benefits of the workout, she heaped her plate with a salad of fresh greens and vegetables, strawberries and a healthy dollop of cream and a succulent pink fish he insisted was not salmon.

  She didn’t care.

  “The prospects will be in for a meal soon,” he said, touching her elbow. “I’ll take you somewhere quieter.”

  The somewhere quieter was an outdoor seating area, empty for now, with round stone tables and benches, and a tiled fountain in the middle gurgling with clean water. She decided to sit down at a table that was closer to the shade produced from towering flowers and plants.

  “I didn’t know you fed the children,” she said as she took a bite of her food.

  “You cannot make a warrior without having some control over his- or her- diet. Eat, Zoriah.”

  She looked at him, startled. “You know my name.”

  “Of course.”

  Zoriah ate with focus, understanding now why her food budget on certain days seemed to decrease about fifteen percent. The children were eating a bit less- because they were already full.

  “You could join the training,” he said.

  Zoriah laughed. “I am no Blue Man’s Bride.”

  His brow arched, and if she were paler he would have seen her blush. The pejorative phrase had slipped out, and now having spent a bit of time with a ‘Blue Man’ she felt the pinpricks of shame. He couldn’t help being alien.

  "That is not the only reason we accept female prospectives. Though it is the best."

  Zoriah sighed. "It isn’t what I thought it would be. If I had time-"

  "Join the program. There are benefits."

  She rolled her eyes. "I read the pamphlets when they flooded the streets. And they send one every six months to your house until you turn forty."

  His mouth pursed. "Forty? That's too young. The agreement was seventy-two for women in good health."

  "Seventy-two?"

  Benyon leaned forward. "Think of it. Free exercise, healthy meals provided. Time you can spend with the children. Yes, I'm aware you work. However, one of your work assignments can be replaced with the training when you're accepted. The stipend-"

  "What stipend?"

  He frowned. "What do you mean, what stipend?"

  "The pamphlets don’t say anything about a stipend. Do you know how many more low-tier women would apply if they knew there was a stipend?" She paused. "How much are we talking?"

  "I see.” His eyes narrowed. “That might explain something I’ve been wondering about. I'll have to speak with- never mind."

  He named a figure and Zoriah wheezed- more for dramatic effect than anything else. But the amount was definitely no joke. Less than her second job, but the trade off would be in the free meal during training and... more time to do something besides work. She began tightening her budget in her mind, making small adjustments to grocery expenses and clothing allowances.

  "You're thinking about it," he said, drawing her attention.

  "Yes. But- what about the bride requirement? Wouldn’t I have to pick someone?" And, jeez, where was her objection to violence and unrealistic expectations about space travel and such? All her doubts seemed to be melting away. Was she really that easy? A good workout and free meal?

  Benyon rose, paced the courtyard to the center fountain, reaching out a hand to catch droplets of water.

  "Adekhan?"

  He turned. "Benyon."

  "That’s not appropriate."

  His laughed startled her, low and warm. "I am Adekhan. I may say what is appropriate." He held out a hand. "Come here."

  The tonal quality of his voice... changed. The order underneath wrapped around her spine and squeezed. She was on her feet and approaching before she had time to process, taking his outstretched hand.

  A thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. "You would have to choose- but not for many years. We are not desperate. Merely eager. Would you not like several fine warriors vying for your favor?"

  There would be little vying going on. He must have read her expression for his brows lowered.

  "You undervalue yourself. Humans and their obsession with class structure. You have born and raised three fine children, and with no protection of family and mate. And-" He stopped.

  Zoriah wanted to know what he'd been about to say. "And?"

  "My people would find you... beautiful. This." His free hand touched her hair where it was bound in a thick bun- probably with strands sticking up all over the place, springy from the sweat of her exercise.

  "So you're hair guys?"

  "Hmm."

  His eyes trailed from her hair and over her body. With a human man, she would have given him a piece of her mind. But where Benyon's eyes touched, her skin tingled. He caressed the curve of her hip, light and brief.

  "And here. Human women are... fuller."

  And a man, evidently, was still a man. Even if he was blue and from another planet. They liked hip and ass and probably chest, even if they didn’t know it.

  "When you progress in your training, you will wear your hair down. It is a mark of skill."

  "How many years of training?" She hadn’t noticed him reeling her in closer, the silver of his eyes ringed in violet. "Your eyes- they're changing colors."

  He smiled. Even, white teeth with delicate tips on each incisor. Subtle, nearly unnoticeable unless standing chest to chest with an alien male, staring up into his face as he looked down, something in his face...

  "Are they?" he asked. "What color?"

  "Purple."

  "Ah. Would it be such a hardship, to choose from among us?"

  "I- what?"

  Patience, the predatory kind. Still, waiting. "Would it be such a hardship to choose? May no Yadeshi man capture your eye?"

  "I- I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, no man period-"

  He kissed her. She'd felt it coming, thus the babbling. His lips were as soft as a humans’, well-shaped. His body shifted, an arm snaking up her back and holding her in place with an effortless strength that should have frightened her. Her head fell back and he took advantage of the angle, playing with her lips.

  And her tired, dead, reluctant body woke. He kissed her as if the sweat, messy hair, extra curves and cheap clothing- all the marks of a plain, exhausted woman- meant nothing.

  She should push away. But she wouldn’t.

  Lips trailed along her jaw then withdrew. "Would it be so hard?"

  Zoriah couldn’t reply to the whispered words for a moment, swallowing, waiting for her heart to return to normal. "Not if they all kiss like that."

  His arm tightened, the violet in his eyes flashing red. Zoriah jumped, stifling a squeak.

  He released her. "Forgive me.”

  Zoriah stepped back, gathering what poise she could- then abandoned the attempt. She was what she was, and hiding her emotions had never been among her skills. "Why did you kiss me?"

  "To answer a question."

  Zoriah’s back stiffened. "So glad I could help."

  "I didn’t say kissing you was a help. I doubt sleep will come easily tonight."

  Silent laugher set her teeth on edge. She touched her cheek, lowering her hand to her side when she realized what she was doing. "I need to get back to my children."

  "Of course. I will lead you- it is past the intake office."

  They stopped on the way, Zoriah glancing at his implacable expression and now calm eyes. Measured the set of his shoulders as he spoke to a clerk and came back with a tablet and pen.

  "Fill this out- it won’t take long."

  She hadn’t actually agreed to enter the program.

  "Zoriah."

  She refused to look at him. His finger brushed her cheek, and he turned her head so she met his eyes. Realizing how many times he'd touched her today- little touches but all of them... possessive.

  Time to nip this in the bud. "What do you want f
rom me? I don't know anything about your people- and not much about men, anyway. But I'm getting vibes from you, and it confuses me."

  He blinked, long lashes veiling his eyes for a moment. "I believe you are the bluntest human I have met."

  "I don’t really have the personality for games."

  "No. Very well, Zo-ahr-ayah. I've decided you will choose me. And I will use every skill at my disposal to ensure that happens."

  ***

  When he’d said skill, she’d assumed flirting. But he seemed to be trying to prove his prowess as a torturer.

  “You are still alive,” the blue, demon alien said, standing over her.

  No mercy in his face, arms at his sides. She fixated on the reflection sparkling off the opalescent nails, vaguely recalling a book from the classics section about demons who glittered in the sunlight.

  “Zoriah.”

  Three weeks of this stuff and she hadn’t died yet. Amazing. “What? I’m catching my breath.”

  “Again.”

  Had she ever thought him nice, self-effacing, soft spoken? He was a dictatorial tyrant, a beast, a task master who hid his sadism under quiet words and courtesy.

  “You fooled me when we first met,” she said.

  “It’s been long. Three weeks.”

  “An eternity,” she muttered, then hauled herself to her feet, brushing the grass and dirt off her bottom. “Did I beat my time?”

  “Three seconds.”

  Zoriah whopped, doing a hip shimmy- in a circle around him, just to make a point. He crossed his arms, watching her while he tilted his head the way that always made her feel… dissected. A smile curved his lips, which he tried to quash, and failed.

  Benyon caught her as she rounded him, pulling her against his chest. “Woman, you know you have to go again.”

  “Buzz kill.”

  His lips brushed hers and she stilled, but he pulled away, swatting her bottom and pointing to the beginning of the obstacle course. He never showed affection in public- plenty in private, but when around other people he was always carefully polite, nearly neutral. She’d put it down to him wanting to be circumspect about their courtship. She’d observed a few other Yadeshi-human couples, and it was true that only the ones who were officially partnered showed any kind of personal attention.

 

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