Bonded to the Alien Lord: Sci-fi Alien Invasion Romance (Warriors of the Lathar Book 3) (2 page)

Tarrick sighed, his bot body clicking as it inflated its mechanical chest in an approximation of the movement. Most wouldn’t have been able to trigger the machine to make the movement, but Tarrick was an extremely experienced pilot. His control of the neural connection needed to operate the avatars was an almost perfect mesh of the biological and technological.

He’d even qualified on the bigger
Drakeen
bots. Heavily armed and armored, they could take on hordes of combat bots by themselves, but were hellishly difficult to pilot. There were only a handful of
Drakeen-
qualified pilots across the entire empire. He was one, as was the Emperor.

The chatter in the room stopped when the big double doors to the Emperor’s bed-chamber opened. His Imperial Majesty Daaynal K’Saan strode into the room, resplendent in his warrior’s leathers complete with his imperial sash—a dark, regal purple—across his chest. He was a born emperor, rather than one who had gained his position through conquest, so his sash was single color and unadorned. Warrior’s braids peeked through the mass of black hair that cascaded over his shoulders.

Tarrick straightened, catching the Emperor’s eye as he strode past courtiers scrambling to free themselves from the low couches. Daaynal stopped, looked Tarrick’s bot up and down, then snapped an order over his shoulder. “Leave us.”

There was a mass exodus. Courtiers raced to be the first to do the Emperor’s bidding, resulting in a pile up by the door. The servos in the bot’s neck whirred as he watched the stampede. “I have no idea why you put up with them, your majesty.”

The last courtier got his cloak stuck in the door trying to get through. Frantically trying to free the heavily tasseled and ornate garment, he glanced up, realized they were both watching him and squeaked. A yank and the sound of tearing fabric later, he disappeared through the door like a
gethal
down its burrow.

Daaynal’s lips quirked. “Entertainment value?”

He turned back to Tarrick and grabbed the bot by its metallic shoulders, looking at the avatar with fond affection, as though Tarrick were there in the flesh. “So, my sister-son, tell me how things have developed with your humans?”

The words, and the warm tone of voice they were uttered in warmed Tarrick’s heart. Twins didn’t run in the K’Vass family. Rather, they ran in the imperial line. His mother, Miisan, had been Daaynal’s
Litaan,
his twin. Every time he looked at his uncle, he saw his mother’s eyes. That Daaynal insisted on preserving the special relationship that existed between a man and his nephew's past childhood was something neither Tarrick nor Laarn had expected.

“Things go well, which is the reason I’m here to speak to you.” He turned as Daaynal looped a massive arm over ‘his’ shoulders and turned toward the large windows at the end of the chamber. “They are technologically inferior, but in attitude and ferocity, they easily match us.”

“Really?” Daaynal’s eyebrow winged up as he leaned one massive shoulder against the window frame and gazed out on the gardens below. The Herris blossom, the symbol of the Imperial family, was in full bloom. The sight of them, his mother’s favorite flower, never failed to ease Tarrick’s heart. “The males are much smaller than us though, correct?”

Tarrick didn’t bother to hide his smile. Daaynal couldn’t see it on the unemotional face of the bot, but he wouldn’t have hidden his amusement anyway.

“They are, but I wasn’t talking about the males.”

Confusion flittered over Daaynal’s face for a second before a sound by the door made them turn. An Oonat, graceful in her hooded robes, slipped from the Emperor’s bed-chamber. No prizes for guessing why. Daaynal needed an heir, even an oonat-born one.

Latharian DNA was dominant, so no child born of such a union would be a half-breed. Such children were always male, completely Lathar. His cousin Fenriis, for example, was oonat-born, and he was more Lathar in his upbringing and mannerisms than either Tarrick or his brother.

And no one was more eager for Daaynal to beget an heir than Tarrick. His brother wouldn’t be able to avoid the Lord Healer’s position for much longer, and his calling there surpassed even that of the imperial throne. Which meant Tarrick himself was next in line. That didn’t mean it would be all plain sailing though. Because his claim was through a maternal line, there were at least four other warriors with claims they’d fight to the death for. He’d avoid a power struggle for the throne. He was happy being a War Commander, with his lovely little Cat by his side. Although…she
would
make a beautiful empress.

“Then who were you speaking about?”

“The females. It seems humans don’t have the same issues we do with numbers. Their gender numbers are equal. So much so, the base we attacked had female military personnel.”

Daaynal stilled, his focus solely on Tarrick. “They don’t protect their women? What kind of species are they? Like the Oonat?”

Tarrick laughed. “
Draanth,
no. They mounted a robust defense to our attack on their base but eventually lost to superior technology. Not for want of trying though. We secured their base and separated the males from the females as usual. That’s when we ran into problems. These females are not civilians. They’re as highly trained in weapons and tactics as the men. We couldn’t get any information out of them on questioning, and they were offering passive resistance until the T’Laat arrived.”

The Emperor’s expression tightened for a second before his face cleared. It didn’t last more than a blink of the eye, but Tarrick spotted the brief flare of dislike and anger. Daaynal didn’t like the T’Laat, everyone knew that, but as emperor, he couldn’t play favorites.

“And then?” he asked.

“The T’Laat made the mistake of kidnapping the women.”

“I’m assuming since you’re talking to me now and you’re only just mentioning it, that you have the situation sorted? How many women did you lose?” Daaynal grimaced and reached a hand up to run through his long hair. “Fuck, I didn’t want the T’Laat in that sector. Now they know there are women there. They’ll be impossible to get rid—”

“None,” Tarrick interrupted, “We didn’t lose any women. They’d already figured out our ident tags were the key to accessing ship systems. They stole one from Varish, used it to open a weapons cache. By the time we boarded the ship with combat teams, they’d freed themselves, bottlenecked the T’Laat forces and were blowing the
draanth
out of them.”

This time Daaynal’s eyes did widen in surprise. Then he laughed. “By the ancestors, they sound perfect. Almost as bad as we are.”

“Yeah, that. You might want to take a look at this.” Using the same subspace link he used to control the bot, Tarrick quickly sent the images of his wrist and medical data Laarn supplied, showing them on the chest-mounted screen on the bot.

“Fuck me…” If he’d ever wanted to see Daaynal surprised, he was seeing it now. The bigger man’s expression was one of utter shock. “If there is even the
chance
they are what Laarn thinks, I want to see. I want to meet some. Bring them here.”

Chapter Two

"The Emperor wants to see us? Really?"

Cat followed in Tarrick's wake like a little lost puppy following its master. The impression wasn't helped by the fact she had to trot to keep up. Every long stride of his needed at least two of hers, maybe even three. It was demeaning, but at the moment she didn't care. She was more interested in what he had to say than any blow to her pride.

"He does. He was most interested when I told him about your species and in particular this." He twisted his wrist in a telling gesture. The marks were covered by the long sleeves of his jacket, and a wrist bracer for good measure.

She appreciated the foresight. If every Latharian warrior realized that, unlike the oonat, humans could trigger their long-dormant mating marks, it would be open season. Competition for a human woman, any human woman, could cause chaos and dissent in the ranks, potentially shattering war clans.

The soldier in her wanted to insist that wouldn't be a bad thing. A fractured enemy was easier to combat, but she had to be sensible about this. Under the control of a sympathetic war commander, the Lathar could negotiate with humanity, sign treaties, and build alliances. But scattered lone-wolf groups of warriors would just invade and take what they wanted when they wanted, and humanity could do little about it. And not all Lathar were as honorable as the K'Vass.

Cat shuddered, remembering Varish T'Laat. The last thing any human woman needed was to be at the mercy of such a monster. No, the best way forward was to put their lot in with the K'Vass and hope the Latharian emperor was as “easy” to deal with.

Besides, she'd always wanted to see new planets and civilizations. It had been the main reason she'd signed up for the Sentinel program; to explore, to be out there on the frontier in a way humanity never had been before. So the chance to see the Lathar homeworld was an opportunity the explorer in her couldn't pass up.

"What’s he like?" she asked as they entered the flight bay. She'd gotten used to the fact everything to do with the Lathar was just, well, bigger. Their ship, their furniture, their clothing...their men. Hell, were their men build bigger.
All
over. She dragged her mind away from the gutter quickly and looked around. After a while, she'd gotten used to the larger proportions. It took something like the flight deck—easily big enough to fit a couple of terran destroyers in—to make her appreciate the size difference.

They strode past row on row of fighters. Like the combat avatars present as guards throughout the ship and the main force which attacked her base, they were remote controlled. The pilots’ lounge was one place Tarrick refused to allow her. Said something about human women were dangerous enough with the knowledge they'd gathered already; he wasn't handing over any more of the Lathar's secrets on a plate. She'd smirked at that. From assuming humans were simple and easily cowed, the Lathar learnt they might be smaller, but a force to be reckoned with. Especially when they got hold of energy weapons.

"Daaynal? He's a K'Saan. Think Laarn but bigger, same eyes."

She hurried to pull even with him, reaching out a hand to his arm as they turned a corner. A quick glance took in the small group waiting at the end of the row, but she ignored them in favor of curiosity, looking at Tarrick.

"Same eyes? Why would he have the same eyes as your brother?"

Tarrick gave her a sexy little side-glance through the corner of his eye. "Because Laarn has our mother's eyes, and Daaynal was our mother's
Litaan."

She paused, her steps faltering as the words sunk in. Holy crap...

"You mean you're a prince? You're a freaking alien prince and you never told me?" She ran to catch up, swinging around to stand in front of him, her tone accusing. "Why didn't you say you were royalty?"

He stopped finally and looked down at her, his golden eyes narrowed. "Would it have made any difference to how you viewed me? That some accident of my birth was more important than the skills and status I have gained on my own?"

Shit. Put like that it sounded bad. "No, of course not. But your culture fascinates me... probably fascinates all of us. Like your clans, your names...the relationships between you."

She'd quickly come to realize the Lathar in a war clan were usually related in some way. Cousins at least. None seemed to be as closely related as Tarrick and Laarn though.

He sighed, but she caught the softer expression in his eyes before it disappeared. It pleased him, her interest in his family. "Yes, I'm technically what your people would call a prince, as is Laarn. And although Karryl shares our father's blood, he is a J'Vass. The clan only gained the right to use the K' signifier when my mother took my father as bond-mate. The K' indicates a line descended from Imperial blood."

She nodded, soaking up as much information as she could while they walked. She'd thought the different names were, while pretty, just that. She hadn't realized they meant something. "Karryl is related to you as well?"

He nodded. "The son of my father's younger brother."

They'd almost reached the small group waiting for them near a docked ship larger than most of the flyers on the deck. If Cat had to guess, she'd put it about the same size as the Captain's Yacht on the base. A fast, luxury transporter for a few VIP passengers. Only this wasn't built like any luxury carrier she'd ever seen. It had far too much armor and weaponry. But then again, that was in line with everything about the Lathar. Their whole culture was based on warfare.

The group contained tall, leather-clad warriors and a small group of women dressed much like she was, in long robes and warm capes. Oddly, for an advanced culture, Latharian fashion tended toward the medieval. Along with the clothing change from their dirty uniforms, she’d noticed a distinct thawing in the attitude of the women to their Latharian “captors.”

Her gaze flicked over the women, then shot back to one familiar figure.

“Jess!” she squealed, launching herself across the space between them to hug her friend.

Okay, so it was a bear hug around the neck and caused the taller woman to stagger back a bit but Cat didn’t care. She just hugged her friend harder.

“Might want to let her breathe a little?” Laarn, behind them, pointed out.

“Yeah…breathing would be good,” Jess gasped, although her hold on Cat was just as tight.

Reluctantly, she eased her grip and studied her friend. Apart from the tiredness around her eyes, Jess appeared in good health.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Things have been…” She paused, words drying up as she tried to verbalize the events of the last few days. Jess smiled and grabbed her hands to squeeze them. “I know, don’t worry, I know. Just…I’m here, you’re here. Let’s work from that, eh?”

“Yeah…” Cat’s breath shuddered from her lungs and she looked up to find Laarn watching them. His gaze was locked onto Jess, his expression possessive until he noticed her watching him. Instantly his face blanked and he gave her a smooth smile. So, the aloof healer did have a weakness after all. She smiled at him, mouthing “
thank you
,” sure Laarn was the reason Jess had been included on this trip.