Page 15 of The Alien Warlord's Fated Mate

“What wouldn’t I do?” Leona countered.

“Abduct innocent males of another species?” Kira shook her head. “They must be very determined indeed.”

“Which makes it unlikely that they’ll let us waltz off this ship,” Leona said.

It took a minute for the implications to sink in, and when they did, Mia’s shoulders slumped. “He’s not going to let me go, is he?”

All three turned to look at Zoran. As if sensing their stares, he abruptly pushed away from the wall and stalked toward them wearing that intense look he got sometimes, one she couldn’t quite interpret yet.

“Uh oh,” Leona said, a hint of her familiar smirk curving her mouth. “Speak of the devil.”

Mia harumphed at that, then Zoran reached them and squatted in front of her, a determined glint lighting his green eyes. The other women fell silent, even the ones on the far side of the crowd. Mia could nearly feel them turning Zoran’s way.

He nodded solemnly to her, then to Kira and Leona. “You must ask the women to sit against the wall, for their own safety.”

“Ok,” she said slowly. “Why?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up in what might have been humor. “Training. We lack another space for practice. Rest assured that the women will not be harmed.”

“Oh. Well, we could move to another room—”

“That will not be necessary, littleklika.” Half a dozen humongous alien men entered the bay and spread out behind Zoran, their gazes as intense as his, their horns as deadly looking. Abruptly, Zoran stood to his full height, stripped off his shirt, and held it out to her, leaving his muscled chest bare above the low-slung waistband of his pants. “Today, I fight for you, milady.”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat as she meekly accepted the garment. It was warm in her hands and his wildly masculine scent clung to it. Without thinking, she pressed it to her chest, her eyes wide.

Then the other alien males stepped forward in near unison, each before a human woman, and did exactly the same, stripping off their shirts and handing them over, voicing the same, almost ritualistic sentiment.

Including, she was surprised to note, the two who singled out Kira and Leona.

Leona tilted her chin at a challenging angle as she accepted the shirt of the male who stood before her. Kira shook her head until her male knelt and murmured comforting words to her, then placed the shirt in front of her as an offering.

Mia remembered then what Zoran had asked her to do and glanced toward the other women, but they had already pushed back against the wall and were staring wide-eyed at the men gathering in the middle of the cargo bay.

“What in the world?” she murmured as she scooted backward, still holding Zoran’s shirt.

“I think we’re about to witness a stunning display of their strength,” Leona said, her mouth curved into a sensual smile. “Yummy.”

Mia rolled her eyes. Trust Leona to take it in stride.

Almost guiltily, she searched out Zoran. He was staring at her as he stretched the long length of his body, his muscles flexing and bulging under his smooth, tough skin. A tattoo flashed on his left pectoral, one she hadn’t noticed before. To be fair, she’d been trying not to ogle him every time he dropped trou in front of her. A thrill shivered down her spine and she swallowed, wetting a suddenly dry throat, unable to look away from the molten promise in his gaze, from the sheer strength and agility of his body. The slight sheen of perspiration turned him into a sculpture, like David if Michelangelo’s masterpiece had had horns and made his living wielding a sword or whatever weapon Zoran used.

Somehow, even with the horns, Zoran was better—living flesh instead of marble—and he was looking at her like he wanted to push her onto the floor and lick her until she came apart beneath him.

Something deliciously hot and wicked throbbed through her, and she clenched her thighs together, trembling beneath that look, scorched inside and out by the sheer amount ofwanthe leveled at her.

“I am in so much trouble,” she whispered.

“Honey,” Leona purred, “that’s the best kind of trouble to be in.”

Zoran stretched facing Mia, his back to the jostling and joking warlords preparing for a mock battle behind him. Her brilliant blue eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, and she held his shirt to her breasts as if it were a lifeline. He had not missed the way she pressed her face into it after he’d given it to her, breathing him in as a mate would. Reveling in his scent the way he wanted to revel in hers.

He felt the air behind him change ever so slightly and bared his fangs in fierce glee as he rolled out of the path of a strike. A staff thumped into the bay’s metal floor where he’d been a moment before, creating a dull ringing sound. He had brought no weapon here, thinking only to give his female time with her friends, but he had no need of one. Every male here had trained as a fighter since the moment they could stand on their own. A warrior’s body was his deadliest weapon.

Zoran gazed up at Ryrda, the fiercely loyal warlord of Clan Ashur. The other warrior easily topped Zoran’s height by a hand’s span and outmuscled him as well. They had long been friends, as many of the warlords were, having trained together as younglings. Perhaps that friendship had swayed Ryrda to Zoran’s cause, for he had been among the first of the warlords to side with him against the more traditional Xeruvians. For that, Zoran owed him respect and a like loyalty.

Still, he could not resist a mild taunt. “Your female rejected your offering.”

Ryrda rolled his massive shoulders, his hard expression unchanged save for the lightening of his eyes. “The courtship has only just begun. My protection is but the first of many gifts. Your own female has not fully accepted you either.”

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