Cam and the Conqueror: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 3)

by Honey Phillips

  “You bastard,” the prince snarled. “I don’t need you, anyway.” He flung his cloak to the ground. Underneath he wore a tight-fitting black outfit with a long, thin, red sword slung at his hip. Cam cast an anxious glance at Kievan’s much shorter weapons but he didn’t seem concerned. He drew his knives and advanced on the prince. For a second, the other man hesitated, but then he drew his sword and rushed at Kievan. She bit back a frightened cry, determined not to distract Kievan, but he easily parried the blade slashing at his head and neck. The prince changed tactics, aiming for his legs instead, but Kievan slipped away with his usual speed, slashing the other man’s arm in the process.

  Prince Ustrod drew back, giving his arm a brief, shocked look, before advancing again, this time with more caution. The clash of blade against blade was the only sound in the quiet garden as the men moved around each other. Even to her untrained eyes it became apparent that Kievan was playing with the prince, darting inside the reach of the sword to leave a rapidly increasing number of cuts on the prince’s body. After a second nasty slash to his arm, Prince Ustrod flinched and stumbled back. One of Kievan’s knives flew through the air, and the sword was gone, leaving the prince clutching his bleeding wrist. He turned and Cam realized that he intended to run, but Kievan’s other knife appeared in the soft flesh behind his knee and he crumpled to the ground instead.

  Kievan stalked to his fallen prey, his face ice cold. The prince fumbled at his belt.

  “I suspect he is trying to call the Royal Guard.” Blauthen’s cool voice startled her and she jumped when she realized he was next to her. “He has forgotten that communication from this garden is blocked, even though he ordered it that way to protect his secrets.”

  Cam took a cautious step back. “Do you care what happens to him?”

  The frightening smile appeared. “No. He was behind on his payments.”

  Angling her head so that she could keep an eye on him and on Prince Ustrod’s position, she saw that Kievan was leaning over the prince’s body. He pulled his knives free, ignoring the man’s moan.

  “This is for Sardor.” He dragged a blade across the prince’s stomach and Cam fought back the urge to vomit as his intestines literally began to spill from the gaping wound. “And this is for threatening my mate.” He drew the other blade across the man’s neck, almost severing his head. The body jerked once and lay still. Kievan didn’t look at it again, wiping his blades on the turf, before rising to his feet with a predator’s grace and stalking in her direction. His eyes were on Blauthen.

  Blauthen gave him a considering stare and for a dreadful moment, Cam thought there would be a second fight, but the grey alien stepped back.

  “Under other circumstances, I might enjoy testing myself against you; however, there is no profit in it. Also, the Royal Guard will no doubt be arriving shortly. He blocked any type of auditory or visual monitoring but his body signs would be tracked.”

  Kievan ignored the warning. “What of your contract with Prince Ustrod?”

  “With his death, it is null and void. Pity. I don’t suppose we will ever receive that final payment.” He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Although, perhaps we can retrieve the batch of stones the Serigali are currently smuggling to collect the debt.”

  “I should kill you anyway, for what you did to Sardor.”

  “We did not create the device. We only moved it into position.” His head turned and he nodded to the other side of the garden. “You have visitors.”

  Before Kievan could respond, Blauthen slipped into the bushes. Kievan whirled in the other direction, motioning Cam behind him. Her heart pounded. Despite seeing how easily Kievan had defeated the prince, he was still only one man. How could he take on a squad of guards? To her relief, only one figure appeared. Like the prince, he had red skin and small black horns, but instead of short black curls, he had long red hair. He approached with an air of confident mockery that reminded her of Kievan.

  “Kievan Rus, we meet again. Problems?” He swept a glance over the dead body by the pool but didn’t seem particularly perturbed.

  “Not any more, Rastrath.”

  “I see.” He abandoned his casual air and rubbed a hand across his neck, looking suddenly tired. “I’m not sorry he’s dead but I regret you had to kill him so quickly. I have some questions that need answering.”

  “Did you know that he is responsible for the destruction of Sardor?”

  “Not directly. But I suspected he was up to something. I have been tracking his movements for some time now. First drug smuggling and now this. It is a sad day for the Royal House.” He shook his head. “A planet destroyer, of all things.”

  “You heard?”

  “Yes, I was hoping to get some additional insight into what he was doing.” He gave Kievan a charming, lopsided grin. “But I assure you I was ready to spring to your rescue if it was needed.”

  Both men suddenly tensed and a moment later, Cam heard the distant noise as well. It sounded like a number of men were approaching.

  “Go, Kievan,” Rastrath urged. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone is going to have to find out how and where this planet destroyer is being created.” He held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I intend to make sure that both it and the accompanying technology are eliminated.”

  Kievan gave him a considering look, then nodded. “Very well. I will leave it with you. You may call on me if you need me.”

  Rastrath nodded seriously, before resuming his carefree mask. “And let’s just say, I will be able to make some new friends as a result. You have your… slave to worry about.” He surveyed her with a casual appreciation that made Kievan snarl. “Not to mention a station to which you should return. If you don’t take Sigrast back, where else will I be able to lose such vast sums of money?” He grinned again. “Now, go.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kievan led the way quickly back to the ship. It remained where he had left it, a bored guard keeping watch.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, the prince was not satisfied with his...purchase.”

  The guard’s eyes swept over Cam’s body in a way that made Kievan’s fists clench but he kept his expression blank. The guard shook his head.

  “Royalty. I wouldn’t turn down a nice little morsel like that.”

  “I’m afraid you couldn’t afford her.”

  Without pausing for a reply, he urged Cam on board and went to the controls. Despite Rastrath’s assurances, he wanted off this planet before anything else went wrong. As soon as they left the atmosphere, he sighed and set a course for Sardor Two. If nothing else, Dragar and the others needed to know what had happened. He turned to look at Cam and his heart sank. Her face had resumed its expressionless mask.

  “Would you like something to eat?” he asked tentatively.

  He was afraid that she would reject him but she merely nodded and followed him to the galley. The meal didn’t take long to assemble, and he made sure to include her favorites before placing the plate in front of her. She shot him a glance he couldn’t read before picking at her food. He had no appetite at all but he had to fight the urge to put her on his lap and feed her. For once he found himself at a complete loss. He had betrayed her in the cruelest possible way and had no reason to expect her to forgive him—but how could he let her go? His need to claim her warred with the fear of causing her further pain.

  Once the silent meal was over, he expected her to disappear into her room. Instead, she followed him into the lounge and knelt quietly at his feet. Her posture was perfect, her face blank, and his heart ached.

  “May I ask where we are going?” she said finally.

  “To Sardor Two. I need to inform Dragar what has happened.”

  “What about Sigrast?”

  “Now that Prince Ustrod is dead, the Empire will have no interest. I have been unable to raise J’Ssett to let him know that the danger is past. I assume that
he is still busy with the evacuation.”

  She hesitated and looked down. “Are you going back?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps not.” He had built his life around Sigrast, but now, looking down at her beautiful, blank face, it no longer seemed important. If he couldn’t have her, nothing else mattered.

  “What about me?”

  He closed his eyes and leaned back. Forcing the next words out was the hardest thing he had ever done. “You could stay on Sardor Two. You would be safe there and there are other human females.”

  There was a long silence and he forced himself to remain motionless rather than sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into the bedroom where he could convince her of all the reasons why she should stay with him instead.

  “Would you stay there?” she asked at last.

  “No. I’m an Outcast, remember?” He tried for a casual shrug. “Perhaps I will become a mercenary again.” He didn’t mention that a mercenary career seemed like the quickest and easiest way to end a meaningless life.

  “Kievan,” she whispered, and he suddenly realized that she had moved between his legs, her hands resting lightly against his chest. Her sweet fragrance surrounded him. His fists clenched, determined not to touch her.

  “Do mercenaries get to bring their slaves along?” she continued softly.

  “No,” he answered cautiously, his heart beginning to pound.

  “In that case, my love, you will have to think of another profession, because I am never leaving you again.”

  Her arms slid round his neck and she clung to him, her face hidden against his chest. He could barely breathe past the joyous pain in his chest.

  “Sweetness. Are you sure?”

  She raised her head and looked at him, face glowing. He caught his breath in wonder.

  “I’m sure. I belong to you—only to you.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he lowered his mouth to hers. She immediately opened to him, her response as passionate as ever, and he groaned at the sweet taste of her mouth. It had been too long; he needed more, demanded more, and she gave him everything he wanted until she was clinging helplessly to his neck, her nipples hard against his chest, and his cock was throbbing painfully against his pants. He forced himself to pull back.

  “I can’t stay on Sardor and I may no longer have possession of Sigrast. I may not have anything to offer you.”

  Blue eyes, still heavy with passion, studied him. “I know. But if you are willing to give everything up for me, how can I do less? As long as we are together, I don’t need anything else.”

  Heart full, he cupped her face. “I love you, sweetness.”

  Her smile lit up the room but she simply nodded. “I know, Kievan. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

  Triumph filled him and his mouth descended over hers with bruising force but she kissed him back just as hard, their tongues thrusting against each other as he took her to the floor. His hand went to her chest, he heard fabric rip, then the sweet warmth of her breast filled his hand, the nipple hard and demanding against his palm. Her back arched, one hand holding on to his neck, the other searching desperately between them to release his cock. He pushed his pants down, lifted her dress, and filled her in one hard thrust. Her legs wrapped around his thighs, her other hand clutching his ass so hard he could feel her nails digging in to his flesh but the slight sting only drove him on. Gasping for breath, their lips finally parted. Her mouth went to his shoulder, covering every inch she could reach with kisses. His head dipped into her neck, breathing her in as he fastened his mouth on her soft skin. She shivered beneath him. He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, his balls drawing up, but he couldn’t stop the relentless stokes.

  “Hurry, sweetness,” he groaned. As the words left his mouth, his climax roared over him, driving him hard into her tight body. His mouth clamped down on her neck. She cried his name and he felt her convulse around him, her pussy clenching around his cock in silken waves that milked every last drop of his hot seed.

  Breathless and content, he stayed buried inside her body as he kissed her again, long and sweet. When he raised his head, she was smiling at him and his heart stuttered.

  “I love you, little flower.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers in a brief benediction, then gave her a slow, wicked smile.

  “You know, pet, this is my private yacht.”

  She nodded, eyeing him curiously.

  “That means that the main statement room is fully equipped—toys…chains…”

  They both felt her pussy convulse at his words and her eyes went heavy.

  “Please, Master. Put my cuffs back on,” she whispered.

  He reached into his pocket for the gold bracelets then paused, staring at them before shaking his head. “I should have realized when I made these.”

  “Realized what?”

  “Look at the design.” He traced the small rosettes. “Each link is a little flower. I had already claimed you, sweetness.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Cam watched as Kievan fingered the controls. He looked stunning in white leather—tight pants, high boots, and a snug vest with the back cut low to show his tattoo. Gold bands circled his biceps. She was also dressed in white, a short gown that covered her front but clung to every curve and clearly revealed the nipple rings circling each peak. The back opened in two big circles—one that revealed her upper back and her clan mark, the other her lower back to just above the curve of her ass. A gold choker and soft gold leather sandals which laced up to her thighs completed the outfit. She knew they were dressed to make a statement but she wasn’t sure why.

  The time on the ship had been wonderful. Kievan, both tender and masterful, never keeping himself from her. Now his face had settled into the expressionless mask she remembered so well.

  The planet on the screen grew larger, one massive red continent extending from pole to pole and dominating the globe. The rest of the surface was covered with a jade green sea sprinkled with much smaller red land masses.

  “State your business.” The harsh voice filled the cabin and she jumped.

  “This is Kievan Rus. I wish to land and speak to Chief Dragar.”

  Absolute silence.

  “Kievan Rus?” the voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “For Chief Dragar?”

  “Yes. Is it really necessary to repeat everything I said? Has Sardoran training deteriorated that much?” Kievan drawled.

  A growl this time before the silence. This one lasted much longer. Kievan appeared relaxed but she could see the muscle clenching in his jaw.

  “Very well. Follow the landing beacon,” the voice finally said, reluctance obvious in every word.

  The ship descended, Kievan expertly maneuvering the vessel between tall red rock pillars to land in what appeared to be empty desert. The sand and surrounding rocks were red, not too different from an Earth desert, but the sky overhead was a pale jade green and an odd sense of disorientation made her feel slightly dizzy.

  “Ready, pet?”

  Gulping nervously, she nodded and let him precede her to the entry ramp. As the door opened, she saw two Sardorans waiting for them. One step behind Kievan, she followed him down the ramp, eyeing the two men curiously from under her lashes. One of them was Kievan’s size. His skin was bronze and he was handsome in a rough way completely different from Kievan’s refined masculine beauty. The second man would have been as beautiful, but cruel scars covered one side of his face and ran down his neck and into his vest. He was huge, as bulky with muscle as Mikaroz, and Cam stepped a little closer to Kievan, trying not to feel intimidated.

  Both men were dressed in plain brown leather vest and pants, knives at their waists, and she couldn’t miss the shoulder holsters.

  “Dragar.” Kievan nodded at the large man, then the handsome one. “Jakkar.”

  “Why are you here?” Jakkar growled, and Dragar put a hand on his arm.<
br />
  “Kievan, you know I owe you, but I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Dragar said quietly. His eyes moved to Cam, perfectly positioned, her face—hopefully—calm. He sighed. “Do I even want to know why she is here?”

  “I have news.”

  Jakkar raised a skeptical brow. “Really? You’re not just looking for a place to hide because all of your games have blown up at once?”

  Cam felt Kievan tense and his hand move toward his knife. She moved closer, nestling into his back and putting a hand on his arm. The two other Sardorans watched her with narrowed eyes and Jakkar’s brow went up again as Kievan’s hand dropped and his body relaxed.

  “I have news about Dragar. And about Sardor and the events of the past six years,” Kievan said evenly.

  “Go ahead,” Jakkar ordered.

  “Is it really necessary to stand in the middle of the desert and talk?” Kievan asked, and the cool mockery was back.

  To her surprise, Dragar laughed. The laugh twisted his scar but it was unexpectedly appealing and she smiled at him. He returned her smile and she felt Kievan tense again but before he could react, Dragar spoke. “We’ll go to my house.”

  Jakkar started to protest but he cut him off.

  “It’s close and it’s private,” Dragar said. Jakkar looked at him and something passed between the two men. “I’ll make sure it’s private,” Dragar repeated.

  Without any additional words, Kievan and Cam were escorted to a small flying machine. It took off at an uncomfortably fast speed, Dragar talking into a communicator while Jakkar piloted. The craft flew to the edge of the desert and then up into the mountains that edged it. Cam stared, wide-eyed. Like the desert, most of the ground and rocks were red and so were the leaves on the trees but they had black trunks and were draped with silver vines and the disorientation hit her again.

  They landed in a small clearing before a house that looked remarkably like an Earth cabin, complete with front porch. Biting her tongue to keep from asking the questions filling her head, she followed the men into a large living room. The room was bright, open to a vaulted ceiling filled with skylights and windows lined the outer walls. The inner walls were hung with paintings and her shocked gaze took in more canvases and painting equipment at one end of the space. The huge scarred warrior was a painter?