Alien Conquest: (The Warrior's Prize) An Alien SciFi Romance (10 page)

“Well, despite Vega’s injury and his fellow teammates’ betrayal, it was a very successful games,” she said, smiling suddenly, and gestured for Alaina to accompany her back to the entry corridor of the Arena.

“I’m glad, domina,” Alaina said.

“We emerged victorious across the board,” Lennai went on, nodding. “And the report on your work with the cursii was very good. Overall, I’m quite pleased.”

“So,” Alaina asked carefully. “Am I to remain the donara, then?”

“Clearly you were instrumental in inspiring the cursii,” Lennai said. A group of Chara guards arrived to flank them, accompanying them to the phaeton. One of the guards stepped ahead and drew the curtains aside for Lennai. Alaina hesitated, but then the domina waved her in as well, and she climbed aboard. The guard drew the curtains closed once more and Lennai relaxed back in her seat. Alaina kept her eyes low but she knew Lennai was looking at her. “They need something to reach for that is more immediate than freedom, and more lasting than the glory after a game.”

Alaina’s heart sank. “I see.”

“But obviously it has also caused some...problems.” Like Vega’s fellow cursii turning on him, Alaina figured. That couldn’t have been good for morale. Lennai carried on, “Lohar and his fellow conspirators will punished, of course. That kind of behavior is unacceptable. And you will not be awarded to
anyone
on the occasion of these games because of it. All the cursii will know that they must win you fairly or none will win you at all. And until the next games, you will remain the symbol to motivate their training, but I will also allow you to continue to treat them medically.”

Alaina exhaled a relieved breath when Lennai said she wasn’t going to give her to any of the cursii. She nodded. The fire in her heart burning to escape this place flared with rejuvenated determination. She would find a way off this station before the next games, before Lennai could give her to anyone.

“Thank you, domina.”

“There will be feasting in the barracks tonight.” Alaina risked a glance at her. Lennai inspected her scaled nails. The phaeton began to move, and Alaina perceived that they were passing beneath the Arena’s giant portcullis. “You will attend, but you will not involve yourself in the inevitable debauchery.”

“Debauchery?” Alaina asked warily.

Lennai looked at her again, and her smile was vulpine. “Yes. There will be food, and drink, and the servants and cursii will be allowed to...fraternize. A reward for their effort in the games. But.” She arched an eyebrow. “No fraternizing for you, understand? You’re to be there to
inspire
, not participate.”

“Yes, domina.” Alaina felt a blush heat up her cheeks.

Lennai’s smile grew curious. “Is that some sort of physical response to the idea of sex?”

Alaina’s blush only deepened. “It’s embarrassment, domina. At the moment.”

Lennai laughed. “How interesting. Humans are such a strange species.”

“Yes, domina.”

“When we get home, you’ll go to the baths and clean yourself up. You’ll be dressed appropriately for the feasting in the barracks and tomorrow I’ll have arranged a more comprehensive schedule for you until the next games. Split evenly between your responsibilities as donara, and your responsibilities as...well, what do you call yourself where you come from?”

“Medic is fine, domina.”

“Medic.” Lennai said it like she was tasting the word. “Fine. That will do.”

Alaina perceived that Lennai was finished talking, so she fell silent, and they continued the rest of the way back to the Chara palace without speaking. Alaina watched the market and the twisting streets of the Errai sector eke by through a sliver between the curtains blocking the phaeton’s window. It wasn’t until she was sitting in the quiet that she realized just how exhausted she was from the day at the games. It had been like five back-to-back shifts in the bus, and suddenly even her bones felt sore. Shoulders, legs, fingers from stitching slashes, and her hands were raw from all the time spent washing away blood and other contaminants. She felt her head nod forward, the exhaustion begging for sleep, but she forced her eyes to focus on the passing market, on the little gardens in front of the Roman-style houses, anything to keep herself awake. Falling asleep in the domina’s phaeton? She was in enough trouble already.

When they arrived at the Chara palace, one of the guards pulled the curtain aside while another helped Lennai out of the vehicle. The same guard took Alaina’s medical bag and indicated that she should follow Gurun, the head servant, who looked her over with the kind of disdain Alaina probably exhibited when she looked at a cockroach. Gurun was tall and white-haired, yellow-eyed and gray-scaled, and he clasped his hands at the small of his back and walked with his chin high, leading her through the upper palace corridors.

“The servants’ bathhouse,” he said haughtily, as they walked. “Is available to you at all hours of the day, until the servants quarters is locked down for the night. As you are an unusual species of creature, you may tell the attendants what you require for cleaning, and they will do their best to see you have it.”

“Thank you.”

“Just because you are donara does not mean you get special treatment.”

“I wouldn’t have expected special treatment.”

Gurun snorted. “Well, you won’t get it. The bathhouse is common space. You do not get to commandeer it.”

“O-kay.” Alaina sighed. This guy hated her and there was no getting around it. She missed Yfia suddenly and wondered she was, hoping she was okay. Then she shook herself and followed Gurun into bathhouse, glad at least for the opportunity to actually bathe.

Vega fell asleep again after Domina Lennai and the donara left. The donara. Alaina. She haunted his drug-addled dreams, the gold of her hair and the feel of her body against his, the memory of her lips and the shame of taking a kiss he had not been invited to take. Eventually the drugs in his system began to fade, replaced by the sharp reality of the pain. And then Dyhar, the House Chara Master of Cursii arrived in the little surgery to escort him back to the Chara palace. Dyhar was tall and broad-shouldered, built like a brick house even into his retirement, and he shouldered Vega’s arm up and helped him walk from the pit to the transport Domina Lennai had sent to bring him home. With a wince and grumble, Vega made it to a seat in the vehicle, one arm hugging his wounded side.

He’d hoped he would be able to make it to the Palace without having to discuss the day’s events, but that hope was short-lived.

“Lohar and his friends are to spend a month in the cells,” Dyhar murmured, as the transport started moving.

“He deserves worse,” Vega muttered.

“Does he?” Dyhar’s expression was dubious.

“We won.” Vega scowled. “We won the games and his stupid shit knocked us clear off the lists. The penalty will take me another three games to get back to where I belong. He can rot.”

“It wouldn’t have been so easy for him if you were more brotherly with the other cursii,” Dyhar pointed out.

But he’d been making the same damn point ever since Vega had arrived in the barracks, and Vega had been sick of hearing it for just that long as well. Some fought to pay off debts, some fought because they sought glory and fame and the money that came with both. Vega fought because if he won, if he gained the top of the lists and earned his freedom, his small home planet would be released from its conquered control by House Chara. He was fighting for an entire world, for his people, and he didn’t give a fuck about being
brotherly
in the process. He never would. Dyhar sighed when Vega said nothing. “Well, you’ll be out of the barracks for a while, anyhow. Probably for the best. Domina has ordered that you be given private rooms and the best care.”

“Domina is kind,” Vega muttered.

“To you,” Dyhar said. “And you know why.”

“Yes, Master, I do know why. And she can be as kind as she likes but it won’t change our circumstances. She is my domina and I will do as she says, until such time as I am free again.”

Dyhar just rolled his eyes. “Watch your attitude, Vega.”

“I’m sure it’s just the drugs and the pain, Master Dyhar.”

“I’m
sure
.”

Dyhar left him alone for the rest of the way back to the palace. The rooms prepared for him in the servants quarters were very comfortable, far more comfortable than his bunk in the barracks. Carpets on the floor and curtains in windows gave way to a gorgeous view of the space outside the station. It was small, but the bed had a real, soft mattress and a toilet en suite. This was the closest to luxury Vega had known in years and he sprawled out on the bed, heedless of getting sand or blood on the soft sheets, and just lay there for awhile, letting the worst of the pain roll through his body.

He tried to push all the thoughts from his mind, but inevitably he saw Alaina whenever he closed his eyes. It was maddening. He’d not been so distracted by a woman in...long enough that while he could remember the girl’s name, a girl from home, he couldn’t remember what her face looked like. And every time he tried, he just saw Alaina instead. This preoccupation was going to get him killed if he wasn’t careful.

The door to the room opened, and Vega opened his eyes and lifted his head. For whatever stupid reason, he expected to see the donara walk into the room.

Of course, it wasn’t the donara.

It was the domina.

As soon as his brain and eyes connected and he realized it was Lennai, he started struggling to sit up, but she waved a hand and approached his bedside, the evergreen glint of her scales reflected in her eyes, which were the same color. Deep, dark green. Emeralds in moonlight. He relaxed back against the pillows, looking up at her, and knew the sick, twisting weight in his stomach was dread.

She lowered a hand, fingernail scraping lightly up his arm. “Do you like your room?”

“Yes, domina.”

“Lohar’s is not nearly so nice.” She smirked. “He’s in the cells. Where he’ll remain.”

“I appreciate that you favor me, domina.” Vega kept his eyes on her face, even as her fingertips continued drifting up and down his arm, summoning gooseflesh along his skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine.

They’d done this before, but he’d always been summoned to her chambers. At first, the whole thing had been repugnant to him, but he’d done as he was bid because he didn’t have the freedom to say no. Over time, their trysts had become at least a welcome release, and if he didn’t particularly care for Lennai, he didn’t have to in order to find satisfaction between her thighs. And it earned him favors, which he could use to climb the lists. But now Vega was aware that perhaps he had played the part too well, and she’d grown too attached to him. He wondered if she’d already begun to sabotage him so that he might never leave this house.

“How do you feel?” she asked. Vega knew what she was really asking, and it was confirmed as she lifted the skirt of her gown, setting a bare knee on the mattress beside his hip. She leaned over him, hand on his shoulder. “Better?”

“Still a little sore,” he admitted, grimacing, but he sat up a little, shifting the pillows at his back to prop himself up. Then he dutifully set a hand on her waist, encouraging. “But definitely better. Just be gentle with me, domina.”

Lennai smiled, because it was exactly what she wanted to hear, no doubt. Which was of course why Vega had said it. Even if he didn’t feel better at all, the domina got what she wanted, and he knew better than to try and deny her now. He was out of the games for awhile. He had to keep what other favors he had. She climbed up, straddling him, and he was aware then that she wasn’t wearing anything at all under that filmy gown. They’d gotten him out of his armor while he was unconscious, and now the only layer between them was the light linen pants worn beneath the armor. Lennai was very aware it too, apparently, because she rocked her hips against his and smiled a little sharper when he gasped at the feel of her rubbing against him.Pleasure could be just as confusing, just as complicated as pain, Vega found. And just as hard to stay strong against. His hands gripped her hips seemingly of their own accord, his mind suddenly a fog of frustration, confusion, and desire. He felt himself rising to her, as she pressed against him, and though he had never wanted her, his body did.

She ran her hands over his chest and rocked against him again, and Vega knew he was done for. He closed his eyes and she began unlacing the front of his linen pants, rising to her knees so she could inch the waistband down on his hips and gather the skirt of her gown from between them. She took his cock in her hand and Vega inhaled sharply, letting go of her so he could grab a handful of the bedclothes instead, gripping as she stroked him harder and harder, and the sharp spike of pleasure overwhelmed the ache of the pain in the rest of his body.

“Do you want me, Vega?” she asked.

They had this exchange, in one form or another, every time. Though typically she preferred him to take her roughly, and he was now in no position to do so.

“Yes, domina,” he said, voice hoarse. “Badly.”

Which was a lie. He didn’t want her. He wanted, he realized, the donara. Alaina. And he knew that Lennai was here
because
she’d seen him want her. But Vega had no room in his mind for house politics, not after getting his ass kicked across the sands, not after having the donara in his hands only to let her go again, and certainly not with Lennai’s hand leading his cock to the warm embrace of her entrance. Vega wasn’t proud of it, but he could fuck the domina and imagine she was the donara. Perhaps it would even make the encounter sweeter. And he might regret that and struggle with it later, but in that moment all he could think of was the release, and when he lifted his hands to cup Lennai’s breasts through the fragile fabric of her gown, he was picturing Alaina instead, in his lap, her armor shed to the waist.

Lennai lowered herself onto him and he rolled his hips, fitting the length of his cock inside her, and she threw her head back, writhing a little atop him with pleasure. Then she started to move, lifting herself up and lowering herself back down. Vega started to pant, every slide of her slick and hot, and his hips started to buck against hers, thrusting himself deeper into her. She pinned his hands to her breasts, bouncing atop him, making little mewling noises as she rode him towards her climax, and Vega clenched his eyes shut and imagined Alaina, Alaina’s breasts in his hands, Alaina’s warmth enveloping his cock, Alaina’s cries of ecstasy atop him. He wanted to sit up and take her in his arms, but the pain stopped him, kept him on his back, mingling with the agony of the mounting pleasure, perfection just out of reach.