Alien Conquest: (The Warrior's Prize) An Alien SciFi Romance (19 page)

“You must offer him a reason not to,” Yfia insisted. “Find out what he wants more and give it to him. Then he and Vega can keep each other safe, and House Chara still gets to the top of the lists. It’s this or your Vega will surely die tomorrow on the sands.”

The dread in Alaina’s heart was as heavy and dense as iron. She felt sick with it and had to lean against the serving station for a moment.

Yfia’s expression was sympathetic, and she squeezed her arm. Alaina knew the touch was meant to be reassuring, but she didn’t know what to do.

“They think the cursii are the only ones who can fight,” Yfia said softly. “But we have our own wars to wage, child. You can do this.”

“How will I get Rua alone?” Alaina asked. “He’s sitting there like he’s their guest.”

“He was an agent of the Ankaa long enough that as a slave he is trusted,” Yfia explained. “They don’t fear that he will run. And he isn’t a serving slave. If your Vega had been indebted as long as Rua has, likely he would be sitting there with them as well.”

“That means I’m never going to get to him,” Alaina sighed.

Yfia looked thoughtful, casting a glance down the garden, back towards where their masters lounged. Then she looked back to Alaina and smiled, and there was something sly in it. “I will distract them. Then you steal a few whispers with him, enough to get his curiosity, and he will come to you.”

Alaina nodded, her mind whirling with thoughts, trying to come up with what she could say to Rua in just a few seconds that would get him to seek her out. But they’d been gone too long and she knew it. Yfia piled her silver tray high with the exotic fruit Atticon had asked for, and Alaina picked up a silver pitcher full to brimming with wine. Yfia led her back down the path to the center of the garden, and then she went over to the sofa where Lennai and Atticon were lounging. Alaina, instead, placed herself near Rua’s couch. He glanced at her, but then looked over at Lennai and Atticon instead.

“Oh, interesting,” Atticon said, after Yfia had murmured something to him. He looked over at her Jiayi masters. “Your slave says that she would like to perform for us. Is it enticing?”

The nobleman’s smile was broad and proud. “She is beautiful,” he said, nodding. “Yfia has a great gift.” He set a hand tellingly on his wife’s thigh. “Though she can be very affecting, my lord. I don’t know if it’s the time and place for such a thing.”

Atticon’s interest only sharpened and he leaned slightly forward. “Nonsense,” he said. “We’re enjoying ourselves. We’re friends here. I’m eager to share this experience with all of you.”

The noblewoman laid a hand over her husband’s and urged it up and beneath the fall of her gown, though her eyes lingered on Atticon. “Perfect, then. Yfia, inform the musicians.”

“Dim the lights!” Atticon called, to whomever.

The lights in the garden dimmed until they were nearly extinguished save for a soft spotlight right on the middle of the garden center, plunging the surrounding sofas into darkness.

Yfia set down her silver tray and went to whisper to the string players in the corner. The tune of their song changed from light and airy to something more dramatic. Atticon sat forward, elbows to his thighs, and Lennai rolled her eyes beside him but just slumped a little in her seat to watch. Clearly she had no interest in anything but Vega, Alaina thought. But Vega was hers, not Lennai’s, no matter what he called her.

As the music began, Yfia slipped between the couches and stepped right up onto the table, bare feet moving gracefully between the platters of food. She lifted her arms above her head, the garden lights illuminating her figure beneath the sheer fall of her dress, long and willowy and pale. She began to dance, her movements almost liquid. And as she danced, she slowly began to undress as well. Alaina flushed, caught somewhere between embarrassed and jealous because Yfia was so beautiful. But she couldn’t dwell on either of those things, and instead drifted quietly and carefully over to Rua’s sofa with her wine decanter.

His eyes were locked on Yfia, of course.

On the table, Yfia slipped one arm free of the strap of her dress, letting the fabric fall to expose a single pale, plump breast.

Rua’s lips parted as he watched.

Alaina heard the Jiayi noblewoman gasp across the circle, and through the darkness could see her writhing a little on the sofa as her husband tended to her and they watched Yfia’s dance. Apparently these people had no modesty whatsoever, none. Alaina made a point of
not
looking over towards Atticon and Lennai. She didn’t want to know.

Instead, she bent down and refilled Rua’s cup.

He blinked, looking away from Yfia and up at her as she did so.

And Alaina said the only thing she could think of that might hold his attention and curiosity, the only thing she knew he’d wanted. “I’ll sleep with you,” she whispered to him. “Come find me later.”

Before he could respond, she straightened up and went back to stand to the side of the circle, in the shadows, where she stayed while Yfia danced and delighted their masters. The wait was excruciating, both because there was little else to look at save Yfia’s gorgeous body as she exposed it inch by inch, and because Alaina could hear the Jiayi couple eventually full-on fucking on the sofa in the darkness. She heard Atticon grunt a few times and wondered if Yfia’s gentle exhibition was even enough to get him off. She was pretty sure Lennai only cared for men, and thought it was awkward as hell that they were brother and sister, watching this display, sharing a sofa as they did so. But Alaina didn’t know enough about these aliens. Maybe...maybe incest was a thing? Maybe Lennai and Atticon did that kind of thing? She thought it was revolting. And a tremor of terror touched her when she realized she didn’t know, and didn’t know how if
Vega
did that sort of thing with his sister either.

Surely not.

To her relief, she saw Lennai get up from her sofa and leave the garden altogether. So it mustn’t have held interest for her after all. Alaina took her wine decanter and followed the domina, out of the darkness in the garden and into the brighter hallway beyond it.

“Domina?” she called.

Lennai stopped, turning to look at her, expression surprised and expectant. “You should stay in the garden,” she told her. “In case they need more wine.”

“I’ll go back,” Alaina said, nodding. “I just...wanted to ask you something.”

Lennai frowned. “Well, what is it?”

Alaina had known she would have to ask Lennai before she consigned herself to Rua. She’d seized the only moment she thought she’d have. “Are you really going to make Vega fight tomorrow?”

Lennai’s expression darkened, and she strode back until she was practically in Alaina’s face. Alaina kept her eyes low and tried not to flinch.

“I don’t see how it’s any business of yours,” Lennai hissed.

“It is,” Alaina whispered. “If I’m to be given as donara to the victor tomorrow. I did what you said, domina, and I only took care of his wounds last night. But they are still grave…”

“I know that,” Lennai snapped. “And if I could spare him, I would. But I can’t. If he doesn’t fight, my brother will sell him. He has to fight.”

Alaina’s throat tightened. “And if he dies?”

“Then I will mourn him. And my brother will buy me a new champion. Now go back in and serve.”

“Yes, domina.”

Alaina felt the threat of tears again and knew she couldn’t let Lennai see them. She turned quickly away, hugging the wine decanter to her chest, and hurried back into the garden. She knew Lennai didn’t want Vega to die, but she didn’t want anyone else to have him either. So of course she’d make him fight rather than letting Atticon sell him. Because she was a selfish bitch even if her brother was the cruel one.

Alaina returned to her place outside the circle of sofas, and Yfia still gyrated fluidly on the table, slipping her gown lower and lower on her narrow hips as she danced. The rest of the room was completely consumed, focused wholly on Yfia’s body, but Alaina was thinking instead of Vega. And of Rua. And whether or not she could give herself to the slave captain to save the man she loved.

28.

After Alaina left, Vega got up and redressed his wounds the way she had showed him, using the ion shower to clean himself and then apply new bandages carefully to his skin. He wished she was there to do it herself, though more than that he just wished for her gentle hands on his skin again. It had been hard enough letting her go that morning. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it again if he had to. But he would. He told himself he would. Because her heart was his and nobody could take their love from them, whatever else they might have done to them. And he was going to marry her.

He just had to figure out how.

A secret ceremony. He’d need an Arena officiant to do it. He had no idea how he would get one of those, or how he would get the officiant into the palace, or exactly where they might hold such a ceremony and keep it secret. But he kept thinking about it, trying to unknot problem after problem, as he went through the routine of physical therapy Alaina had showed him. She said it would help him recover faster, that it would save him precious time he’d need to use in the Arena to climb the lists.

Then there was a knock on the door and Dyhar slipped into the room. The Master of Cursii’s expression was grim, and Vega got up off the floor where he’d been carefully stretching.

“Dyhar, what is it?” he asked immediately. No point beating around the bush.

But Dyhar hesitated, as though he didn’t want to say the words he knew he must. “You’ll fight tomorrow,” he finally managed to say.

Vega felt his blood chill. “What? Tomorrow?”

Dyhar nodded. “The dominus has ordered it. Domina Lennai tried to fight him over it, but he said that if you didn’t fight, he’d sell you.”

Vega stood there, at a loss. He thought he’d have more time, but he realized suddenly that his time was completely up. He’d thought that he and Alaina had a chance at forever, but Dyhar had just ripped forever away from him.

“Fuck,” he finally said, looking at Dyhar as that helplessness filled his heart. “Fuck, Dyhar. I...I’m going to die.”

“No,” Dyhar insisted fiercely. “No. You will fight, and you will live. Even if you fall in the lists, Vega, you’ll live. That’s all you have to do. Survive.”

“But I can barely lift a single
curson
,” Vega cried, indicating the wound to his side. “Let alone my double blades!”

The weapons were heavy, and he knew he was weak. His very bones felt brittle under his skin. Just his efforts with Alaina that morning had made him sore all over. He’d hid the pain until she was gone, but had spent another hour in bed unable to get up after she’d left.

“You’ll only fight with one
curson
then,” Dyhar said.

“And I’ll die with one, Dyhar,” Vega insisted.

“Stop.” Dyhar waved his hands, shaking his head. “Stop saying that. You’ll die if you think you will. You’ll live if you fucking fight like I know you can, Vega. You’re the best the Arena has seen in an age. You can do this.”

Vega sank to a seat on the edge of his little bed and put his head in his hands.

Only hours ago, the universe and his future in it had felt so promising. He’d been so focused on fighting to his freedom, on going home to his planet and his family, and then Alaina had claimed his heart. She’d made the dream, the goal, even better. He’d been even more determined than before. Now it was all slipping away. The world ripped right out from under him. He wanted to believe Dyhar, wanted to believe that if he could just survive that would be enough. But he was marked already by the other cursii and he knew it. It would have gone through the barracks below by now that he’d killed Lohar the night before. And ordered to fight or not, his brothers would hate him for it. Even if they’d have done the same in his position, they’d hate him for it. And he didn’t blame them.

But it did mean that, in his current state, none of them but Bathari would help him. None would put their back to his. None would defend him if he fell. And if he and Bathari weren’t paired in any given game, he was going to die. Likely even if he and Bathari
were
paired, he would die and it wouldn’t be Bathari’s fault. Or his responsibility. Vega just wasn’t strong enough. Which, he supposed, was Atticon’s entire goal.

And only minutes ago he’d been trying to plan a wedding.

Vega, he thought. You are such a fucking fool.

“I’m not even strong enough to train,” he said miserably.

“But you’ll fight,” Dyhar insisted.

“Well, I won’t go lie down on the sands for them,” Vega snapped, lifting his head to glare at the Master of Cursii. “Of course I’ll fight. Until I’m dead. But I suspect that will be quickly.”

He regretted getting so angry at Dyhar when he saw the man’s face fall. “Not all of your brothers will abandon you, Vega.”

“Yes they will,” Vega muttered, looking back down at his hands. “They have every right to.”

“Not all of them,” Dyhar said again. “Some of them know Dominus Atticon too well. They know you didn’t have a choice.”

“If only you could control who got paired with who,” Vega sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll fight, Dyhar, you know I will. And I guess I’ll have to hope it’s enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Dyhar said, after another long moment. “For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. If there was anything I could do to stop it, I would do it. You know that.”

Vega nodded. “I know that, master. Thank you.”

“Rest,” Dyhar said. He turned for the door. “Get as much rest as you can.”

Vega said nothing and Dyhar left. Vega sat for a long time thereafter, trying to make peace with the future, or lack thereof. But he couldn’t. He kept thinking of Alaina instead.

You fucking fool, Vega.

After Yfia’s dance, Atticon asked the Jiayi couple if he could have a go at her. They said yes, and Alaina watched Atticon help the now-naked Yfia down from the table, and lead her away down one of the garden paths to have his way with her. It filled Alaina with revulsion, but Yfia’s expression was relaxed. Maybe she was just better at this kind of life than Alaina. Maybe she knew how to love more kinds of people, or had enough peace in her heart even for someone like Atticon. Alaina didn’t know, but she hated watching her friend be led off by that monster, no matter how Yfia herself might have felt about it.