Izzie and the Icebeast: A Scifi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 9)

by Honey Phillips

  “Njkall said he could come because it wasn’t safe for me to go to Port Eyeja,” Izzie explained. “But it’s safe now—Relkhei is dead.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Zemma had heard all about the fight master, and she looked almost as happy as Izzie felt. “What happened?”

  “A mysterious benefactor,” she said dryly, with a meaningful look at Varga.

  “This calls for a celebration. Will you join us for a meal?” Zemma asked.

  “I would be delighted to join you.”

  The males joined them in the kitchen, and the four of them laughed and talked. Varga flirted outrageously with Zemma, and she played along, but Izzie could see the sadness behind her smile. Surely there was something she could do to help her friend.

  “I think we should get a house in town,” she announced as they finished their meal.

  “You do not like it here any longer?” Baralt asked.

  “No, I love it here. But if you are going to be meeting with more people, it might be more convenient to have a place there as well. That is, if we can afford it,” she added quickly.

  “I have plenty of credits,” he assured her.

  “Good. And perhaps Zemma can come with us. You wouldn’t want to leave her behind now that the two of you are a family again, would you?”

  Zemma looked up, a desperate hope in her eyes. Baralt sighed.

  “I suspect I will regret this, but yes, of course she can come.”

  “I have to send a message.” Zemma jumped up and rushed out of the room.

  “You are a devious female, my aria,” Baralt said sternly, but his eyes smiled.

  “Don’t you want your sister to be happy?”

  “Of course I do. I’m just not sure that this is the path to happiness.”

  “Everyone has to find that for themselves.” Izzie looked up to see Varga nodding at her words, a distant look on his face. Was he happy? she wondered. She and Baralt had found happiness with each other. Perhaps the big warrior needed a mate as well.

  “This is quite some place you have here,” Varga said to Baralt much later that evening.

  Isabel had gone to bed long ago, and the two of them were sitting on the balcony outside the bathing room, passing back and forth the bottle of Aldarian whiskey that Varga had brought. Varga had a sarlag fur wrapped around his shoulders, but he didn’t seem bothered by the cold.

  “It is,” Baralt agreed. “I honestly never thought I missed it, but now that I’m here…”

  “You don’t want to leave?”

  “No. Although, we may be doing just that in the future. Njkall has started talking about diplomatic missions and hinted that I would be perfect for the job.”

  “You? Because you’re known for your diplomacy?” Varga snorted.

  “Because I have the most experience with life outside of Hothrest. Actually, I’m the only one with experience off world. And I suspect he thinks that having a human mate might be helpful now that the new Emperor has also taken a human mate.”

  “Do you enjoy being mated?”

  “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said sincerely. He still couldn’t believe that he had been so blessed. “Why?”

  “I never thought I would want to be tied down. An occasional female in my bed and I was content. But seeing the two of you together, I wonder…”

  “When you find your mate, you will not wonder. You will only regret that you did not meet her sooner.”

  “You sound very sure.”

  “I am sure. Will you stay with us for a while? Perhaps you will meet someone here.”

  Varga shrugged. “A few days, perhaps.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “You were so successful with your previous ‘accident,’ I wondered if you would like to try another.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “There is a Derian ship that needs to vanish from this universe,” he said grimly.

  Varga grinned fiercely. “Tell me more.”

  They finished the bottle as they made their plans, then Baralt rose to his feet, stumbling a little. “It ish time to mate my join.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, join my mate.”

  Varga laughed and stood, equally unsteady. “And I will go to my lonely bed.”

  Baralt showed him to a bedroom, then went to his quarters, wincing when he stumbled over a chair that he was sure was not usually there.

  “Baralt? Is something wrong?” Isabel asked sleepily.

  “No, my aria. The chair moved.”

  “What?” She blinked up at him, then wrinkled her nose when he climbed into bed. “I see you and Varga have been enjoying yourselves.”

  “He wants a mate,” he said sadly. “He is not as happy as I am.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy now. I suspect you won’t be too happy in the morning.” She snuggled into his arms.

  “Always happy with you.”

  “I feel the same way. Love you, Baralt.”

  “Love you too, my mate.”

  And he fell asleep, smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Izzie pushed the chair closer to the window, then nodded in satisfaction. The house Baralt had purchased in Port Eyeja was beginning to feel like a home, although she missed the caves more than she had expected. It was nice to have the option of returning whenever they wanted.

  Varga had not remained long, anxious to get started on some mysterious business venture. When they had accompanied him back to town, they remained there to choose a house. She had been shocked when Baralt had picked out a massive stone house surrounded by a wall, but he had been so convinced that it was the safest option for her that she had agreed to his choice. She had been working ever since to soften the harsh lines and she smiled as she fluffed a pink cushion, the same color as the moss in the caves.

  “Isabel?” Baralt’s familiar voice called from the bottom of the stairs, and she answered him eagerly, already anxious to see her mate even though he’d only been gone for the morning.

  “How does it look?” she asked when he appeared in the doorway.

  “Beautiful.” But he was looking at her rather than the room.

  “I meant the furniture.”

  “I’m sure it is very nice.” He advanced on her, his eyes burning with that familiar heat. “But I’m far more interested in you. I missed you.”

  “You weren’t gone that long,” she teased before he picked her up and kissed her breathless. “I missed you too,” she admitted when he finally raised his head.

  “Where’s Zemma?” he asked.

  “Where do you think?” Since they’d moved to town, Zemma and Strax had been inseparable. Izzie had been shocked to realize that Strax was a huge bull-like alien with a startling resemblance to a minotaur, but he was quiet and polite and obviously deeply in love with Zemma.

  Baralt frowned. “I’m still not sure I approve.”

  “You can hardly object to a non-Hothian mate when you have one.”

  “It’s not that. I’m just not sure that he is worthy of her.”

  “Would you think anyone was worthy?”

  He shrugged a shoulder but didn’t respond, and she hastily changed the subject. “How was the meeting?”

  “Dull. Why do so many people like to hear themselves speak?”

  He had been meeting with various trade groups to discuss prospects for trade other than sothiti, but so far nothing had seemed promising.

  “Maybe we can find something more interesting to do…”

  “Exactly what I had in mind.” He lifted her into his arms, but instead of taking her into the bedroom as she expected, he carried her to the front door, pausing only to wrap her in her cloak before stepping out into the cold.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He carried her around the outside of the house to where an odd-looking cart was waiting, hitched to a sarlag. Curved sides curled up to create
a cup shape, and the whole thing was perched on two long runners. Baralt lifted her in, and she discovered that the interior was filled with warm, soft sarlag wool.

  “What is this? A sleigh?” she asked as he joined her.

  “We call it a hantsu. Our ancestors used these for traveling. I thought you might enjoy a ride.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

  He picked up a set of reins attached to the sarlag’s horns, and they took off. Since their house was located on the edge of town, they were quickly out on the open plain. She laughed as the sarlag raced ahead, the light vehicle not hindering its speed.

  “I would never have thought about a sleigh ride, but this is an ice planet. It makes sense.” A memory suddenly surfaced. When she had been an undergrad, a friend had persuaded her to join her family at their cabin in the mountains for the Christmas holiday. The small town where it was located had been filled with visitors, all of them excited to try the various winter activities.

  “Do you use skis?” she asked thoughtfully.

  “Skis?”

  “Long strips of wood you fasten to your feet to go down a hill. Or across country.”

  “We don’t have wood. But we do something similar with the rib bones of a marlax.”

  “What about skates? Smaller…bones you would put on your feet to glide over ice.”

  “Yes, we have those.”

  “I know you have confined offworlders to Port Eyeja, but have you ever considered opening up a little more of the planet to tourism?”

  “Tourism?”

  “On Earth, people like to take vacations to different climates. To have different experiences and try new things. Like skiing or skating or sleigh rides.”

  “You would want to open the planet to these people?”

  “Only a little bit of it. If you set up a resort for people to visit, you would still be controlling where they went, but it would have a different atmosphere. It could be very exclusive—and expensive—or you could create something more family oriented.” The more she thought about the idea, the more she liked it.

  He looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure that our people are suited to that type of work.”

  She had a sudden vision of Njkall with his claws at the neck of a rude guest, and she giggled.

  “Perhaps not. But some of them might be. And you could always hire people. If you make this a destination—a place people want to come—you make it much more difficult for someone to argue that it’s just a primitive planet.”

  “It is an excellent idea, and one that would be well suited to our goal. We should discuss it with Njkall.” The thoughtful look vanished as he turned to her. “But right now, I have something else in mind.”

  “And what might that be?” she asked, her body already responding to the heated look in his eyes.

  “Did you know that a sarlag can run for hours?” He parted her cloak and opened the buttons on her shirt one at a time, gradually exposing her skin. Despite the frigid air, between the warmth of his body and the wool surrounding her, only a mild, exciting coolness touched her skin. When he spread apart her shirt to reveal her breasts, her nipples were diamond hard, but not from cold.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured before he bent his head, and a shockingly hot mouth closed over a taut peak. She buried her hands in his mane, arching into his touch as he tugged off her pants and slid his hand between her thighs. He murmured approvingly when he found her slick and ready. He never seemed to get over the thrill of knowing how much she wanted him. As he circled her clit lightly, teasing her, she tried to reach for his cock, but he hovered just out of reach.

  “Baralt!”

  “Not yet, my mate. I want to watch your pleasure before I bury myself in that sweet little cunt.”

  “Then hurry up.” Her body was already quivering expectantly.

  “Such an impatient mate.” Despite her urging, he continued the teasing, keeping her on the edge of climax until her entire body was tingling, then pushing her over the edge into a slow, rolling climax that seemed to last forever.

  When she finally opened her eyes, he was smiling down at her. “You see? Wasn’t that worth waiting for?”

  “Mmm.” She gave a lazy stretch, then put out a hand when he started to move over her. “But I think it’s your turn.”

  “I agree.” Once again, he started to lower himself, and once again she stopped him.

  “I have a better idea. Lie back.”

  He gave her a doubtful look but obeyed. She crawled up and kissed him, delighting in the eagerness with which he always met her kiss. His cock, thick and insistent, was pressing against her leg when she finally drew back. She bent down and pressed a kiss to the wide purple tip, humming with pleasure as his sweet, salty taste filled her mouth.

  “My aria…”

  “What was it that you said? About wanting to see my pleasure first?” she teased, flicking her tongue down the heavy shaft and circling the sensitive ridge at the base.

  “I want to take my pleasure with you,” he protested.

  She had intended to make him wait, but since he insisted… Straddling him, she let his cock slide between her folds, shivering with pleasure as his ring pressed against her clit. It had already begun to swell, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until he came. Suddenly, she was just as impatient to have him inside her. Rising up on her knees, she positioned him at her entrance and slid down over him. As always, her body had to work to accommodate him, sending an exquisite pang straight to her clit as he stretched her open.

  His fists clenched in the wool surrounding them, and she knew he was doing his best not to grab her hips and take control as she slowly, so slowly, lowered herself down until he filled her completely. She looked up to find him watching her, his eyes blazing with love and lust, and her channel fluttered around him.

  “Isabel,” he groaned.

  Bracing herself on his chest, she sat up until she could see the white plain flying past them and feel the wind plucking at her aching nipples. She felt as if she was flying free, grounded only by Baralt’s love. He seemed even larger in this position, but she didn’t want to lose this feeling.

  “Your turn,” she whispered, and he took over, his big hands seizing her hips as he thrust up into her with desperate urgency. The icy coldness of the wind made an erotic contrast to the heat of his body beneath her, and her spirit soared. She lifted her arms into the air with a triumphant cry as she felt him shudder and come, felt him expand to lock them together, felt her climax sweep over her in a rush of pleasure.

  Afterward, she collapsed down on his chest, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “Your skin is very cold, my aria.”

  “I don’t care. It was worth it. I felt like I was flying.”

  “You looked like a goddess.”

  “Mmm.” She shivered and nestled closer, and he pulled her cloak over her. “We should do this again.”

  “I will keep the hantsu ready and waiting,” he promised.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  As Baralt drove the hantsu up to their house, he recognized the white-furred figure sitting outside the gates.

  “It looks like we have a visitor,” he sighed.

  “Who is it?” Isabel asked sleepily. At least she was dressed again, although it had been a lengthy process that had involved a number of kisses.

  “The young warrior who was so eager to help you clean the paxha.” His arm tightened instinctively around his mate. He hadn’t liked other males so close to her, even though he had known they were well-intentioned and harmless.

  “In exchange for stories about you,” she said. “But why is Petralt here? Aren’t the younger males still forbidden from coming to Port Eyeja?”

  “It’s never been forbidden, just discouraged. I suspect that wasn’t enough to stop Petralt, especially now that we are here.”

  He brought the hantsu to a halt as they reached the house, and Petralt jumped up to open the gate. Baralt didn’t object when the young ma
le then followed them inside the wall.

  “Baralt, I wished to speak to you about—”

  “Take care of the sarlag first,” he interrupted, tossing Petralt the reins. “There is a shelter at the back of the grounds.”

  Without waiting for a response, he lifted Isabel out of the hantsu and carried her into their house. She shook her head.

  “Poor boy. He comes to talk and you put him to work.”

  “It is the way of the tribe. Besides, there is no hurry. I doubt he’s going away anytime soon. Do you mind if he stays with us?” he asked as he put her down. “He would only get into trouble alone in town.”

  “No, of course not. We have plenty of room. I’ll just go make some tea. I think we still have some of the sweet cakes that Zemma made as well.”

  “I didn’t mean that you had to feed him,” he huffed.

  “He’s a young male. He’ll be hungry,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  He sighed again, but he couldn’t argue. Instead, he deliberately chose to wait for Petralt in his office, a more formal setting than the cozy living space at the back of the house. At Isabel’s suggestion, he had mounted the finished image of the paxha on the wall behind his desk. It dominated the room and provided an intimidating reminder of his abilities.

  Petralt’s gaze traveled to it as soon as he entered the office, and it seemed to temper his breathless excitement. His shoulders stiffened as he came to a halt in front of the desk.

  “Greetings, Baralt,” he said stiffly.

  “Greetings, Petralt.”

  He didn’t say anything else, and Petralt shifted uncomfortably before rushing into speech.

  “I wish to find an occupation here in the port.”

  “Why?”

  Petralt looked shocked. “You left—you must know how limiting life in the caves can be.”

  “I did not want to leave.”

  “But you did. And you have seen so much, done so much.”

  Petralt sounded so eager and Baralt could hear the echo of his own younger voice in his words. It had been a long time but he remembered what it was like to think that life was passing you by. He only hoped he could protect the eager youngster from the same pain he had found.