Page 16 of The Alien Warlord's Fated Mate

Zoran stood slowly from his crouch, acknowledging that truth with a spare nod. “Shall we show them some measure of our strength?”

Ryrda clicked his teeth together in agreement. “So that they will evermore know the depth of our protection and loyalty, aye.”

It was the only warning Zoran got. Before the last word left Ryrda’s mouth, the warrior flicked the staff up and jabbed it at Zoran’s ribs. Zoran curved his body out of the way, caught the staff with one hand, and pulled it up over his head as he twisted around. Ryrda was too much the warrior to fall for that old trick; his grip on the staff loosened, and instead of being pulled forward off balance, as a less experienced fighter would, he dropped down, holding the staff’s other end in one hand, and attacked.

Zoran grinned, relishing the fight as much as the opportunity to demonstrate his prowess. Relishing the energy it burned off so that later, he could return to his woman at peace with himself, fully in control of the desperate need pressing against his skin, of the instinct urging him to claim her, to take her, to bind her to him.

Show her, it whispered, echoing his mother’s wisdom,show your mate what you are.

They fought until each male had been bested once, accepting their defeat with the equanimity of well-disciplined minds, bodies, and souls, theirkiiin perfect harmony. Winning had not been the purpose of this exercise, and so, none felt shame at being outmaneuvered by a warrior whom they knew they would best on another day, at another time. They were too evenly matched to stand for long against each other.

Zoran accepted one last hand clasp from Eirik, who had at last brought him down, then he turned to the human females, as the other males had, his gaze unerringly meeting Mia’s. She sat where he had left her, one hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and unblinking, his shirt still clutched to her chest. Seeing it there filled him with satisfaction until he thought he’d burst from it.

She clung to this small part of him. Perhaps she would come to accept him after all.

One by one the other warriors approached the mates the Fates had selected for them. One by one, those warriors lifted those women into their arms and silently carried them away. Even Ryrda, who had initially been rejected by Mia’s dark-haired friend, was able to steal her away without protest.

When the last warrior had filed through the hatch with his chosen mate, Zoran strode toward Mia and knelt before her. “Milady, you honor me with your trust.”

Her breath hitched, catching on her words. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing,pjora-la.” Fate-given, to be honored above all.

“What does that mean?”

By way of answer, he lifted her carefully off the cargo bay’s cold metal floor and held her against the steady thrum of his heart, ignoring the stares and whispers of the remaining females. She placed her palm against his chest and hesitantly rested her head against his shoulder, and he trembled beneath the simple beauty of her touch.

Mia lay in the cradle of Zoran’s arms, cuddled firmly against the heat of his body. His warmth felt so good after the cargo bay’s chill, and part of her, some wild, heretofore unknown part, wanted to wallow against him until that heat warmed her inside and out.

Another part of her panicked at the very thought of how attractive she found him. What was she thinking, cuddling up to an alien warrior like this? An alien warrior who’d spirited her away from her home like some virgin bride in a trashy Romance novel and now wanted to, what? Implant his seed in her womb?

She sputtered out a half-hysterical laugh. It sounded so ridiculous, how could she not find humor in her situation? Here she was, halfway across the galaxy from Earth for all she knew, being carried through an alien spacecraft by a man whose biceps were bigger than her thighs, so she could help him repopulate his planet.

Another laugh hiccupped out, and she banged her head gently against his chest. Yup, that was her. A helpless damsel, caught in the middle of an improbable Romance, awaiting the pleasure of her new lord and master.

A door whispered open. Zoran stepped into his room and walked straight into the bathroom. He dropped one arm and let her slide down his body, his darkening gaze never leaving hers. Without saying a word, he stretched one arm past her and turned on the shower.

“What are you doing?” she said, her voice so thin, she could barely hear it above the water’s trickle.

His expression shifted subtly, morphing from hot promise into a gentle, teasing humor that made her knees weak. “The next transition is soon.”

“Um. Sure.” She shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“It means that we must rest now. Would you not prefer being clean for your sleep?”

“Oh, um. Yes. But…” She stared helplessly around the room, uncomfortably aware of his body planted inches from her, filling the small space with his presence. Of the precious water warming in the shower stall behind her, and of the heat pooling between her thighs. “Together?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tugged his shirt gently from her grasp and dropped it to the floor, then unfastened his pants and slid them down, slipping his boots off with the same fluid grace, leaving his body beautifully nude. Her throat dried up again, and the protest she tried to muster stuck there. A formless mewl came out in its place as his hands cupped her shoulders and he eased her into the water, robe and all.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “But I’m still dressed!”

“For now.” He turned his back to her and knelt in the tiny space, gathered bathing scrubs in his hands, and scraped it off on his shoulders. His hands came down on his thighs as he resettled with his knees touching the shower’s floor. “Would it be your pleasure.”

It took her a moment to understand that he was asking her to bathe him in that politely formal way of his. She looked helplessly at her hands, so small compared to the breadth of his shoulders, so inescapably human next to his scarred, decidedly unhuman skin. What could it hurt to touch him, to learn the dips and valleys of his muscles, to explore every inch of him with her bare hands?

Like the lover he wanted her to be.

A sharp tingle started in her secret womanly parts, and she sucked in a breath. Oh, yes. She was in deep trouble here.

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