Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance

by Alison Aimes

  “Yes. That’s right. Obey me, little one.” His low grunts of approval almost sent her over the edge. Her body tightened, her toes curling as a shiver of heat and need coiled at the base of her spine.

  Until, suddenly, the unaware female in his arms reared up, her fingers digging into the male’s shoulders as she shook and moaned. “Yes. Yes. Anything you want. Ravish me, you savage.”

  Aurora staggered back. The spell broken.

  Shame ripped through her.

  This was no pure moment of connection.

  This was only a sordid game in which she was an intruder and the male below toyed with her and the female in his arms. While Aurora let him. No, encouraged him.

  If she hadn’t been so lonely, she would have never fooled herself into believing otherwise.

  Wrenching her gaze from his, she fled through the balcony doors.

  The protesting growl from below vibrated through her with the intensity of a howl. He wasn’t happy with her departure. Too bad.

  She forced herself to move faster through Lady Everly’s now-empty drawing room.

  It wasn’t until she was out of the drawing room that the full extent of her stupidity dawned. What she’d done wasn’t simply sordid or pathetic. It was dangerous. She’d allowed herself to be spotted, alone, in a questionable location.

  What an absolute fool. All her planning…all her risks…she’d endangered everything.

  She’d thought the past planetary rotation had curbed the worst of her impulsiveness, but it had reared its head at the worst possible time.

  Did the too-beautiful Martian wonder even now what she’d been doing in the hosts’ private quarters? Was there a chance he’d connect her with the rash of stolen jewels? Or report her whereabouts to her stepfather? There was always the chance he’d assume she was one of the ladies invited to Lady Everly’s drawing room, but a few unwelcome questions was all it would take to unravel that misassumption.

  If her stepfather ever heard about her outrageous wanton behavior it would be an even worse outcome than prison. His sights were currently set on becoming Chancellor Executive, the most powerful position within the Earther Corporation, and he’d been very clear that nothing was to impede his efforts.

  Stomach pitching, she stumbled down the hallway. Of course, the corridor was empty now.

  The trip around the corner was also without incident, though the wet, swollen throbbing between her thighs made it impossible to forget what she’d just done. Even now, knowing how stupid her behavior had been, something in her chest cried out with every step she took away from the outrageous male in the garden.

  Truthfully, that painful yearning scared her more than her intense, out-of-nowhere sexual response to the man. She’d learned long ago that standing alone and on her own was best.

  She reached the outskirts of the party. A few harried human servants—the only kind hired in most élithe households—rushed by with trays while scattered guests milled about laughing and gossiping.

  She forced herself to take several long, slow breaths and delivered her thousandth pep talk to herself. This was not over. The jewel strapped to her thigh was proof of that. She could still recover from her idiocy. The Martian, not a local, couldn’t be staying on the planet long, and no one else had seen a thing. As long as she never crossed paths with the arrogant male and she played it smart from here on out, this could all still work out.

  Summoning a brittle smile and a deep breath, she prepared to blend in with the revelers and find her chaperone.

  “Lady Aurora.” A sharp, high-pitched voice barked from behind. “Wait.”

  4

  DaKar Volkan, newly titled Executive of Starlight, Warlord of the Martian Provinces Five through Fifteen, and third Prince of the Qatarishel Martian dynasty, stared at the place where the golden-haired female had been, tamping down on the urge to give chase. Another low growl emerged from his throat before he could force it down.

  Minel.

  He fought the primal instincts, wrestling them into submission, purposely retracting his fangs and slowing the pounding in his blood.

  She was spectacular. Wild. Carnal. Passionate. Reckless. So bleeking hot his body still vibrated like a G-4 fighter ship from the purring sounds she’d made before she fled. The pull between them as strong as ever.

  The knowing inside him had begun pulsing hot and wild even before he entered the garden, but he’d still done a double take when he saw her floating above him, unsure she was real. The long, golden hair, flushed cheeks, emerald-green eyes, and pale exotic skin an erotic fantasy conjured straight from the deepest recesses of his boyhood mind.

  Then she’d opened her eyes, toyed with her breast, and he’d known she was more real and earthy than anything he could have imagined the universe over.

  She’d changed.

  But he had, too.

  When he was young, he’d been clueless about Martian instincts and mating. Thanks to his father’s refusal to let him visit his uncles on Mars or learn anything about his mother’s culture, he’d been defenseless against the changes in his body and the ancient instincts pulsing through his blood. Thankfully, he’d gotten a handle on both.

  The mating heat hit hard and fast, but that didn’t mean it had to be followed to its natural completion. The inner call for soul-bonding was not obligatory. The roar in his blood that demanded he make the golden-haired female his could be mastered. Just as he did everything else.

  A person had to willingly open themselves up for the deeper soul connection to take and that wasn’t happening. The ability to let someone in had been ground out of him long ago. He was too cynical now, too hard. Over the years, the heat had glowed faintly for him with one or two females—though never with the intensity of that first time—but he’d squelched it easily enough.

  He would again.

  The lonely boy he’d been may have started unknowingly down the soul-bonding path with the golden-haired girl, the man he’d become had no desire to follow.

  And from the hard walls he’d slammed up against on his voyeur’s side, neither did she.

  However, a raw, emotion-free fuck amplified by the Martian heat was another thing altogether—and something he definitely intended to indulge in with his stunning golden-haired voyeur before he left the planet.

  He’d just make sure that was all it was.

  He scanned the balcony. She didn’t reappear.

  “Mmmm. Yes. Again. I want another just like the last.” His dark-haired partner’s words jolted him back to the present. A good reminder he was behaving like a planetary-class asht-hole, and he hadn’t been back on Earth long enough to use that as an excuse.

  Lady Arrabella Bainbright was an old acquaintance. A few years his senior and contracted to a male she despised, she’d never been shy about her pleasure. A state of mind that had obviously continued with the passing years as she’d waylaid him by his floater tonight and made her intentions very clear from their first hello. While he, after several lunar rotations slogging through his late father’s papers, had been ripe for a mindless distraction.

  But even rutting could only work as a diversion for so long.

  “I appreciate the warm welcome, but I need to make an appearance inside.” Pulling out, he lowered her to the ground. He hadn’t finished, but he wouldn’t now. Not her fault. She’d given her all and he was relieved his efforts in her direction had been enough to satisfy her. He was usually more attentive. But he didn’t usually have a curious, carnal angel and the mating heat call distracting the hells out of him.

  Already his voyeur’s unique scent was filling his lungs and seeping into his blood while the strength of her spirit, her courage, her stress—shanus! He shut the knowing down fast, rooting out the golden tendrils snaking around his chest like unwanted weeds.

  “Don’t go yet.” Displeased at his impending departure, the female he needed to be focused on dug her nails into the skin at the back of his neck. “I want you inside me again, pounding as savagely a
s you were near the end, saying all those deliciously dirty things in my ear.”

  “Not possible.” Mostly because they hadn’t been meant for her.

  Still, he forced unused muscles into the semblance of a smile as he stuffed his shirt back inside his trousers and sealed up, ignoring the odd sensation of the seams straining against his skin. After years of wearing the lightweight uniform of the Martian Qatarishel court, he’d yet to grow reaccustomed to the confining, heavier cut of dome clothes.

  If he was lucky, his time back on this planet would be short enough that he’d never have to get too comfortable with any of it.

  “You’re truly rushing off?” His companion’s pretty features hardened as the seriousness of his intent finally set in. “I hope you don’t think those Earther sticks-in-the-mud inside will be appeased by your appearance tonight.”

  Not surprisingly, the reason for his return was no secret.

  “They might not like it, but they will accept it.”

  “Such boldness.” That unmistakable glint of lust reappeared in her gaze. “Perhaps you do stand a chance against them, after all.” Her hand once again crept toward his trousers. “Couldn’t you stay a while longer?”

  “No.” He plowed a hand through his hair. As Warlord, he was unused to having his commands questioned.

  Pain streaked along his scalp. Hell. The damn Starlight ring. His father’s. No…now, his. He scowled down at the band, not surprised to see a couple of long black hairs attached to it—such was the way of things when tangling with anything related to his father’s side of his family. He always lost a little of himself.

  With a deep breath, he yanked the strands off, ensuring the family crest of the blazing sun over the dome was visible on the signet once again. Not that he needed to see the imprint to remember. He’d worn the exact replica on his jaw for several planetary rotations until the scar grew small enough to be indiscernible from the rest.

  He almost hadn’t worn the band tonight, but the visible demonstration of such an important piece of the Starlight legacy was too important to pass up. Even if he’d rather have thrown the ring in the recycler.

  “I suppose if you have that in your possession,” he looked up to find Lady Bainbright eying the same object preoccupying his thoughts, “the stories about how much you and your sire hated each other can’t be entirely true.”

  Wrong. They were entirely true.

  “Your very presence here tonight proves that the tale of you as a young male rejecting the title, shares, and the lands and vowing never to set foot on Earth again must be false as well.”

  Wrong again.

  “I mean, of course, I knew that story had to be fabricated,” she concluded. “Even a male like you would want such a fortune. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Who wouldn’t, indeed?” Even a male like me. He reminded himself it had been his choice to come out here. Apparently though, he was not the only one who’d hardened over time.

  He hadn’t come back for the money. He was Warlord of a territory larger than all the dome. He’d brought fortune to himself and his people through smart off-planet investments and ruthless trade, enough to buy and sell the pathetic Earther land a thousand times over. Nor did he want the familial recognition that came with claiming a Corporation Executive title. He certainly didn’t need the headache—or the constant reminder of a past he’d rather put in his shuttle’s wake.

  But his wants and needs didn’t take precedence in this instance. The title and influence would be his.

  His reasons, however, were his own.

  “I’m heading inside.” In a last attempt at Earther civility, he offered Lady Bainbright his arm. “You can remain in the garden or I can escort you to the ball. Your choice.”

  “Oh, alright.” She molded herself to his side. “Let’s go in, but you’ll come to my estate tonight, yes? My husband will be with his mistress in the unsanctioned zone. Use the floater entrance. I cannot wait for another wild ride. The kind only a half-breed male as coarse and primal as you can give me.”

  “No.” He extricated himself as efficiently as possible.

  “No? That’s it?” She gaped at him. “No other explanation?”

  “None you’d understand.”

  He’d come to respect the Martian blood that beat in his veins. His mother’s people were warlike, aggressive, and brutal, but they lived by a code of honor that emphasized the need of the strong to not only dominate the weak, but protect and guide them.

  The darkest examples of savagery he’d ever witnessed had happened right here on this glittery, fake planet.

  At his brusque refusal, his old acquaintance’s mouth hung open in shock. Speechless. Finally.

  Capitalizing on the miracle, he issued a polite bow that would have done even a true élithe male proud and strode toward the front of the estate, the ground shaking with each pounding boot.

  He had a promise to keep and a title to claim—and if he found his angel among the parasites at tonight’s party, maybe he would consider rethinking how he next worked off his aggression, fucking his earthy angel until he’d done every dirty, carnal thing he’d promised her he’d do to her.

  Or maybe not. If she was anything like the rest of those under the dome, it was probably best he’d only gotten to see her from afar.

  A lot on this planet sparkled with promise—until you gave it a closer look.

  5

  Aurora took a breath and whirled to face the person hailing her. Lady Everly. The victim of her recent crime.

  “Good evening.” She plastered on a smile, curtseying in the general direction of the pack of women fanning out behind the hostess, blocking any form of retreat. “Your party is a huge success. Congratulations.”

  Lady Everly dismissed the compliment with a distracted wave. “A necklace of mine has been stolen.”

  “Stolen?” Aurora’s throat tightened as if the noose already cinched tight around it.

  “Yes. Stolen. By that same thief who took those other ladies’ jewels. He left a message.” Lady Everly flashed the note Aurora had left on the vanity before clutching it to her bosom, her head swiveling left and right as if in search of the writer. “Did you see anyone suspicious pass this way?”

  “I don’t… I—ˮ

  “Come now. You’ve been hovering at the outskirts of the ball per usual. You must have seen something.”

  Six demanding pairs of eyes locked on her. Hovering at the outskirts per usual? That couldn’t be good.

  She thought fast. “As a matter of fact, I-I did see a male lurking around the gardens. I can’t be sure what he was doing.” But the woman he was doing it to was in pure heaven. “I was returning from the ladies retiring room and only caught a glimpse through the window, but I’m sure I saw someone.” And that the arrogant male saw me, too.

  “What did he look like?” Lady Everly stepped closer.

  “It was dark.”

  “Yes, but you must have seen something. Was he tall? Short? Thin? Fat?” This time it was Lady Hamilton who demanded answers.

  “We’ll not rest until you’ve told us something of use.” Lady Everly’s grey eyes glittered with the thrill of a hunt. “If it’s discretion you’re worried about, we promise not to mention your involvement.”

  “I’m just not sure—”

  “I should hope you’re not holding back out of spite. I suppose I can always speak with your stepfather first, if you prefer.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Aurora forced an even larger smile. “Of course, I’m happy to help. There’s certainly no need to bother Executive Whetherton. It’s just that I saw very little and hate the idea of spreading misinformation. But if you’re sure you won’t put too much stock in my hazy recollection, I would venture to say…he appeared tall and broad.”

  An obvious sense of dissatisfaction vibrated in the air. They were still waiting.

  She shouldn’t…but he’d been so damn arrogant. So commanding and overwhelming, as if her surrender was a foregone concl
usion. And she’d proven him right—even as he fucked someone else.

  She didn’t understand her pull toward the male. She didn’t understand why even now she wished she was in his arms.

  Pride and shame, and a healthy dollop of defiance, had her mouth opening.

  “He was…ah…also rather handsome from what I could tell. Exotic features, golden skin, dark horns, an arrogance that shimmered like a second skin.”

  Lady Everly’s expression sharpened. “How interesting. I knew he’d show tonight.”

  “Who?” Lady Sutherton’s falsetto squeak rang out strong.

  “Warlord DaKar Volkan, the eldest Starlight Executive back to claim his place.” Lady Everly sounded almost breathless. “The description fits perfectly.”

  A shudder ripped through Aurora. Within only a few lunar rotations of her mother marrying Whetherton, she’d been shipped off to the outskirts of the dome and only returned this past planetary rotation. She knew very little about élithe dealings, and usually cared even less. But even she had heard of the death of the most powerful élithe, the High Chancellor, and the question of who would take his place. Her stepfather spoke of little else, but she’d been too drunk on lust, a mouthwatering licorice scent, and foolish imaginings of a golden connection, to put two and two together before.

  She was in bigger trouble than she’d realized. The chance that the male from the balcony would be leaving within a lunar rotation or two suddenly dwindling to none.

  Worse, she was a terrible human being. Prideful. Rash. Taking her anger, fear, and helplessness out on an absolute stranger whose only crime was rattling her senses and showing her a part of herself she hadn’t even known existed.

  She needed to fix this. But getting a word in was challenging.

  “Do you really think the male Lady Aurora saw was that barbarian?” The sparkling hairpin in Lady Hamilton’s hair bobbed at Aurora like an accusing finger as she aired her doubt. “He hasn’t even appeared in public yet and it was dark. He could have been anybody—or nobody at all.”