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Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance

Page 28

by Alison Aimes


  Though half lidded with lust, the eyes that met his harbored no doubt. Only pure, shining love. “I’m done running.”

  “Good. From here on out, we not only protect each other, we trust each other enough to share everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly. You are my everything, Aurora, and you will get those promised stars.”

  42

  A hand smacked into his back. Whetherton tumbled forward, spilling through the shuttle door, the harsh hot air and dust from the prison planet burning his throat. Even at night, the heat was almost unbearable. He turned to snarl at the burly guard, but the man had already disappeared, shutting the shuttle doors with a slam.

  Calm. Calm. He needed to remember he would not be here forever. He’d made some missteps, but he was an élithe for Goddess’s sake. A rising star. Almost the Chancellor of the Earther Corporation. The shareholders respected him, listened to him, did as he wanted.

  He flicked at a scuff mark on his cuff, illuminated by the three moons. Disgusting, and not at all suitable for someone of his stature. There was no way he’d be in this squalor long. No way his peers would decide in favor of a half-breed and his traitorous, harlot daughter.

  Yes, the feral Warlord had proven cleverer than expected, saving Aurora from this place by turning the tables on him, framing him for her crimes, just as Whetherton had once tried to do with the savage. It was, in truth, an impressive act of trickery from a foe he’d mistakenly dismissed as too brutish and barbaric to be of concern.

  But DaKar Volkan would not win in the end. Neither would Aurora.

  Whetherton’s élithe peers would see that what he’d done was just and retrieve him, apologizing for their misdeeds, and returning his daughter to his care.

  He took a deep breath and imagined what he would do to Aurora and that abomination when he was released. His heart slowed. His breathing calmed. His cock hardened. His jewel would be sorry she’d ever strayed from his discipline.

  He tapped his foot. What he needed was to see that fool of a judge again. At their last meeting, with that half-breed looking at him with murder in his eyes and a smug smirk on his fanged face, he’d lost his temper and failed to explain things as he should.

  But how could he not? That worm judge had been looking at him with contempt—as if he were the better man—when not even a month ago the man had been cozying up to him for his patronage. That kind of disrespect was unacceptable. When he returned to the dome, he’d spend some time teaching the judge a lesson as well.

  Satisfaction coursed through him. He always enjoyed a good plan. He tugged at his waistcoat. The rough material chafed his fingers.

  Goddess damn it. He’d forgotten. They’d taken his silks and all the rest of his fine clothes when they’d shaved his head, stuffed a hard, inedible piece of bread into his hand, and given him this rough, lice-infested garment to wear instead.

  He’d kill every last one of those guards, too. It was the least they deserved.

  His splint caught on the uneven floor and he stumbled before catching himself against one of the many sharp rocks that littered the surface. That half-breed would pay for hurting him as well.

  And this ill treatment was all for what? Because he’d sought to discipline his daughter? Because he’d tried to oust a pretender? Because he’d rid the world of a few dirty whores, an incompetent servant, some grasping élithe, and his nothing sister? Ridiculous.

  They’d all wanted him to free them from their worthless lives—he could tell. It was the only way to absolve them of their failures, the only way they’d learn from their mistakes. The only way they could be cleansed. Purified. Taught a lesson. His peers would understand. They would realize.

  A scuffling noise echoed through the darkness.

  “Who’s there?” He peered into the shadows. Strange shapes and distorted outlines shimmered out of the rocks. A shiver ran down his spine. They looked like insubstantial ghosts.

  A figure separated from the grey and floated forward.

  He gasped and stumbled back. “Cecilia, is that you?”

  Cecilia stared at him, an unfamiliar calculating gleam in her eye.

  He straightened, determined to take back control. She was a mouse. He was the one in charge. “You’d best remember who you are dealing with, Sister. I killed you once. I can easily do so again.”

  She cackled. Instantly, Cecilia’s face disappeared. A grey-haired crone with two missing teeth, long matted hair, and hard, cold eyes stared back at him. “Ye’ll not last long ’n here, dearie,” she rasped with glee. “I can tell.”

  He raised his fist. “Do not dare to address me again if you want to last longer than the next moment.”

  She snickered.

  He lurched forward, his splint making his gait awkward. But, he wouldn’t let that stop him. No miserable gutter rat common criminal laughed at him.

  Two more figures separated from the gloom.

  For a moment, he saw them clearly: two lean, hard men. Crooks. Killers. Convicts. The kind he handed money and commanded to do his dirty work. They stared at him with malicious intent.

  “Give us the clothes ’n the bread in you’ pocket,” one of them said. “An’ we’ll let you live.”

  He opened his mouth to tell them to go to the devils.

  One of the men stretched his hand forward, coming farther into the moonlight.

  His throat closed. “Peller?” he gasped. “What in the hells is going on? I killed you.” The élithe male stood before him, palm outstretched, angry, demanding.

  His frantic heartbeat sounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. He took a step back and then another. He’d killed them all. They couldn’t be here…

  …unless this was hell.

  He stumbled back toward the shuttle.

  “Get me out of here!” His fists pounded on the metal. His knuckles split. To no avail. No one came.

  A rumbling sounded behind him.

  He swiveled, pressing his back against the shuttle frame.

  There were figures everywhere.

  His mouth opened. No sound emerged.

  They surrounded him, closed in on him, their arms outstretched, their features shifting from hardened prisoners to those he’d killed and back again.

  “No, don’t touch me.” He slapped at a bony hand. “I will kill you again. Do you hear me? I will kill you all.”

  The mob closed in. He kicked and shoved, screamed and fought, but it was no use.

  They reached for him, ripping and shredding.

  Until bread and cloth, flesh and sinew, were gone.

  Until the agony became too much.

  Until what was left of Whetherton sank to the ground and joined the specters that haunted him still.

  Epilogue

  Aurora woke with a gasp, her heart pounding.

  “Shh, love. It’s all right.” DaKar tucked her into his arms. “I’m right here.”

  Her heart slowed. Her muscles relaxed. She burrowed deeper into his embrace, nestling her bottom into the crook of his thighs as the familiar shimmering hum of the soul fusion grounded her once more.

  They’d only just returned from Phobos and though she was getting better with the transitions, the returns to Earth were still an adjustment. Still, it was necessary. As head of the Starlight estate and one of the most powerful shareholders of the Corporation, her husband needed to come home often—as did she.

  Together, they were making critical improvements to the lives of the employees who’d been abused too long. He and Grayson were busy causing quite an uproar with their shareholder reforms and expansive Outer World trade policies. She and Saman, whose humor and dedication to his family had won her heart, spent their rotations in the Forbidden Zone, passing out food and medicines. She and her sweet mate had also established several shelters for non-élithe and élithe females and children who’d been abused. Their hope was that no one under the dome would ever again feel they were alone and without options.

  As if sensing her continued tensio
n, her mate kissed the hollow behind her ear. “Another bad dream?”

  She nodded even as desire’s heat prickled along her skin. DaKar’s touch never failed to rouse her. Even after another nightmare.

  It had been a full planetary rotation since Whetherton’s incarceration and death on the prison planet, but Cecilia’s and the other dead females’ eyes haunted her still. It was hard to let the last of her guilt go.

  She was learning, though. Her protective mate wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He nuzzled her neck. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “Yes. But, I will never tire of hearing it. Or feeling it.” Even now, vibrant waves in all the colors of the rainbow flashed along their bonds, testament to the depth and varied hues of his love. She rolled to face him,.

  His hand curled possessively over the curve of her stomach. “Good. This family is starting anew with love, trust, and hope and one thing I know for sure: I will always make certain our children, as well as my mate, know their worth.”

  Heart soaring, she laced her fingers with his. The babe kicked as if adding his touch to theirs.

  She wasn’t sure who was most excited about the little one’s arrival. DaKar, or Tom, who ferried her every lunar rotation to the doctors DaKar insisted she see, and refused to retire despite his recent windfall.

  The babe kicked again.

  “Hmm. I was hoping this little one would stay asleep a while longer.” DaKar’s smile turned seductive, fangs flashing. “I had plans.”

  They had made love only a few hours before, but the heat in his eyes sparked her hunger anew.

  “I do like your plans.” She trailed her fingernails along his chest. Her mate was stubborn, commanding, and fierce, but she’d learned to trust him with every fiber of her being.

  “Which one exactly?” He rolled them both so that he was hovering above, always so careful of his strength with her, his body in a plank position, his massive biceps flexing as he dropped to nuzzle her ear. “The one where I hold you down, spread you wide, and make you come on my tongue until you scream?” She moaned and he chuckled, grazing his fangs along her earlobe. “Or the one where I put you on your hands and knees and take you from behind until you shatter on my cocksto?”

  “I-I like both those plans.” She arched toward him, cradling his strong jaw between her palms. “But I was thinking more about the one where you saved me from prison and death.”

  “Ah, that one.” He shrugged, but in his eyes she saw the same determination she’d seen when he told her what he intended, when she finally understood he would always find a way for them to be together. “That’s old news.”

  “It will always be new and beautiful to me.” True, sometimes there were still twinges of guilt over everyone’s presumption that Whetherton had been the thief as well as the murderer, but her formidable mate had been unwavering that she would follow his lead.

  He’d insisted that punishing herself by admitting her guilt and facing prison or execution would not bring any of those women back, but it would destroy him. And he’d reminded her that she’d already vowed that protecting him was everything to her. Plus, he’d pledged to track down as many of the stolen pieces as possible and return them to their original owners, regardless of the cost. Thankfully, he had the riches to do just that.

  It helped ease her conscience, too, that they hadn’t lied or altered the evidence to make her stepfather appear the original thief. Whetherton had indeed stolen the stockpile of jewels the constable found in his study, care of an anonymous tip. DaKar had simply omitted that the ex-Executive had stolen those items from her. In truth, by the time all of her stepfather’s ugly deeds came to light, the thefts had mattered little to his conviction.

  Still, to her it had been everything.

  She’d been given a second chance thanks to her mate’s masterful scheme, and she had vowed not to waste a moment of it. Especially since she had plans of her own—and her commanding mate wasn’t the only one who could be persuasive.

  “Hmmm.” Tangling her fingers in his hair, she stroked along the ever-lengthening thickness of his horns. “What about the plan where I get on top and ride you like a wild, unladylike élithe while you work me up and down on your big cocksto and watch my tits bounce?”

  A roar rent the air, red-hot heat crackled through their bonds, and she was rolling in the next instance, her legs splayed around his hips while he stared up at her with the feral, savage stare she loved so well.

  She hid a smile. “I take it you like my suggestion.”

  “Yes. Good.” He’d gone into growly mode, the gentleman stripped away as the Warlord came to the fore. A hard, arrogant Outer World male whose dark beauty only underscored his danger—and his love for her.

  She shivered, her excitement growing.

  He lifted her. In one swift motion she was impaled on his cocksto.

  They moaned in unison.

  Her head fell back, catching a glimpse of the twinkling lights overhead.

  Her stars. A perfect replica of the shimmering soul bonds that fused them together.

  He’d had them installed while they were on their honeymoon.

  Oh, she’d been beyond the dome and seen them for real numerous times now. He’d taken her to his homeland while the ink on their breeding contract was still drying, declaring he needed to show her off to his people, as well as his uncles and his fellow Council of Warlords. Then, after a single night of introductions, he’d promptly growled at everyone to stay away and spent wheeks making love to her under the night stars, as well as in the bright suns and every airy room in his palace. Thankfully, Martians were a lot less uptight about such things.

  But these stars…here on Earth…they would always be special.

  When he’d told her about them, it had seemed a beautiful dream, but next to impossible.

  Yet, here she was. Mated. Contracted. Bred. Soul fused. No longer scared or alone or desperate, but happy and safe. Loved, while she loved deeply in return.

  Her life was all she’d ever dreamed of and never believed she’d have.

  Calloused hands gripped her ass. “Show me that fire, kitten. Show me exactly what I saw on that balcony the first time our eyes ever locked and I knew you were mine.”

  And because she was his to command, she obeyed, undulating her hips and embracing the female she was always destined to be.

  Who would have ever imagined a desperate criminal and a notorious Warlord could find such happiness together? But they had—and she would spend forever stealing every moment with him she could.

  She was a thief, after all.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many wonderful people who helped to make this story stronger than I ever could have alone.

  Thank you to Frauke Spanuth for the beautiful cover. Thank you, too, to Lisa Knapp for her superb proofreading skills and refusal to be daunted by my ridiculous turnaround-ask time.

  I also want to thank Veronica Adams for all her mad, brilliant publicist skills and constant support.

  Massive thanks also go to the terrific Danielle Rairigh, who is a total rock star, lovely person, and dream PA, and whose amazing skills make it possible for me to keep writing.

  Great, giant, huge thanks are owed, too, to Lynne Silver and Monique Bona for their brilliant beta-read suggestions and for being such wonderful friends. You two both totally saved me and made this book so much better than it would have been without your terrific insights and clutch ideas.

  I also want to thank my ARC team for stepping up and helping me out. Your support makes such a difference and I am so grateful to each and every one of you for reading and reviewing my books. Each of you has such a special place in my heart.

  I also want to shout out to some terrific people in my Alison Aimes Red Hot Romance Facebook group who make every day fun for me. Persephone, Tricia, Janey, Janet, Ema, Holly, Kelly, Hol Ann, Anthony, Jennifer, EJ, Christen, Darleen, Dana, Kendra, Priscilla, and Mary. Seriously, you guys are my i
nspiration for writing. Thank you.

  Big thanks, too, go to my marvelous friends Karen, Phyllis, and Priscilla for always listening, even when I whine.

  Finally, I want to thank my family for...EVERYTHING. Dad, your constant support and your pride in me means so much. Mom, these books would not exist without you. You are my first call, my main cheerleader, and my editor extraordinaire all rolled into one. You work as hard as I do on these books and I am so grateful. Kurosh, thank you for picking up all the slack when I’m staring off into space, for your unwavering support, and for being exactly the hero I need.

  Want more Alison Aimes Reads?

  Excerpt from TRAPPED, the first book in the Condemned series

  Cadet Bella West has one simple objective when she joins the scientific mission to Dragath25, the notorious penal planet housing Earth’s condemned. She will accept any risk to enable her siblings to share in the disappearing resources reserved for Earth’s elite. But when her shuttle crashes, her simple mission becomes complicated fast. Now, to stay alive she’ll have to depend on one of Dragath25’s own. But such protection doesn’t come free.

  Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, ex-soldier Caine Anders has become more beast than man after eight grueling years on an unforgiving planet of dirt and rock—and even more treacherous inhabitants. He doesn’t look out for anyone but himself and he certainly never grows attached. So when the bold female offers him pleasure in return for protection, he takes the deal without hesitation. He never expects how her touch will alter him. Or the growing realization that saving her may be the key to his own salvation.

  But caring for someone on Dragath25 may be the greatest hazard of all.

  Warning: This full-length HEA novel is a sizzling romance with a hot alpha male and a strong, determined woman, but it begins with a transactional deal for sex in return for protection. The sex is explicit, the story intense, and the uneven power dynamics at the start will not be for everyone.

 

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