Page 8 of Captured By The Alien (Starbound #2)

Vahn blinked.

“What females?” he asked, mystified. Rhyn slapped his forehead.

“Drek! I meant to tell you but I forgot. A dozen noble families have put their daughters up as Potentials to be your mate. I accepted on your behalf. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“So just tell them they’re no longer required.”

“We cannot do that,” Baelon said with evident satisfaction. “To reject shaa’baara now after it has been accepted would be seen as a slight.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that because your niece happens to be one of the Potentials, would you?” asked Rhyn.

“That is irrelevant,” Baelon retorted. “Undermining one of our oldest customs is unwise, regardless of who is taking part.”

Kara listened mutely. She knew what shaa’baara was. A contest to win the right to be mated to a Vraxian male. And it didn’t surprise her that there was competition for Vahn. The Zhaal was a good catch.

But twelve? There were twelve females throwing themselves at him? At least Vahn looked as disconcerted as she was.

“There must be a way out of it,” he said desperately. “Some loophole.”

“There is not,” said Ela. “The palace has promised a competition and we have to go through with it. We cannot afford to offend these families.”

Kara saw the expression on Vahn’s face.

“So what’s the problem?” she said impulsively. “Just put me into the competition.”

Ela laughed.

“I don’t think so, human. You wouldn’t last a second.”

Kara rounded on her angrily.

“I lasted the best part of a year on a deserted planet, bitch. I’m not about to be intimidated by some stuck-up tarts.”

“You don’t understand, Kara,” Vahn said gently. “The competition is intense. There are grueling physical and mental challenges, and the final round is unarmed combat.”

“Sweet Jesus. What the fuck kind of contest is this?”

“One to ensure only the very best wins the heart of our Zhaal,” said Ela stonily.

“This is insanity,” spat Baelon. “ Shaa’baara is only open to females from the highest status families. Leaving aside the fact that she is not Vraxian, she does not qualify.”

“Her mother is the defacto ruler of Earth,” said Vahn mildly. “In terms of status, she probably outranks you, Lord Vantrax.”

The Vraxian’s scales shaded to puce. Kara thought his head might explode.

“Maybe we can play this to our advantage,” mused Rhyn. “If she wins, it will be seen as a sign from the gods that she’s destined to be our Zhaalini. The people would be much more likely to accept her.”

Baelon snorted.

“If she wins? You seriously expect a nedek human to defeat a phalanx of Vraxian Potentials who’ve been trained for this moment? They will tear her apart.”

“Don’t count on it, snake-shit,” Kara retorted. “I could kick your ass without breaking a sweat.”

Baelon straightened in anger and Vahn forestalled him.

“She’s right. Don’t underestimate her. She is more formidable than she looks. Still, the contest is a complication.”

“A conundrum,” agreed Rhyn.

Baelon was quiet for a long moment.

“Perhaps I am being too hasty,” he said eventually. “Perhaps you are right, my Zhaal. If you truly think she is resourceful enough to compete, you have my full support.”

He thinks he’s won, Kara realized. He thinks either Vahn will drop his plan or I’ll get murdered by a bunch of love-sick groupies.

Something – jealousy? Impetuousness? – shot through her and she found herself speaking out.

“I don’t care how hard it is. I’ll do it.”

Rhyn looked amused.

“You have guts, I’ll say that for you. But it’ll be tough. No holds barred.”

“Good. Bring it on.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Ela said curtly. “This isn’t a competition you can win.”

“Yeah? Watch me.”

Vahn held up his hand to stop further argument.

“Everyone, I need to have a private word with Kara,” he said. “Let’s reconvene later. Ela, take the handcuffs off.”

“I do not advise you being alone with a…”

“Ela, now.”

The general’s face tightened. She removed the thick metal from Kara’s wrists and left the room without saying another word. Vahn shot a meaningful glance at Baelon and Rhyn, and they followed suit.

In the sudden quietness, the two looked at each other.

“Nice crown,” Kara said snarkily. “Surprised they found one to fit your fat head.”

“What do you think of my plan?”

“Brilliant. Right up to the part where I have to fight an army of Vraxian women for you.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“Great for your ego, though.”

A smile tugged at his lips.

“Which I’m sure you will endlessly mock me for.”

Kara rubbed at her wrists where the handcuffs had pinched.

“Can I ask you something? Is this what you planned all along?”

“No,” Vahn admitted. “I was leaning towards your suggestion of putting you in an escape pod. But then I thought it would be easier just to marry you.”

“Right. Not sure your friends would agree.”

“They will if it brings about an end to the war. And I do genuinely believe it could do that. Don’t you?

Kara tilted her head, considering.

“It’s a big diplomatic gamble. But a new Emperor striving for peace coupled with a trade treaty and a free gift of energy crystals… yeah. I think it could work. You could throw in an embassy in Taa’riz to sweeten the deal.”

He nodded approvingly.

“A sound suggestion. That’s why I love you. You see things so clearly.”

“Don’t say that,” she said irritably. “Don’t use the L word. We both know you’re using me as a means to an end.”

“I love you,” he said calmly. “And you love me. Denying it will not make it less true.”

“I thought I loved you when you were the only other person around,” she hissed. “Now I see the real you and I’m not fooled any more.”

“Hm. Strong words. Why don’t you come here and prove it?”

“What?”

“Come here. Let me touch you. Then tell me you don’t love me.”

Color flooded her cheeks.

“I… I don’t want to.”

“But you do. You want me to touch you.” He leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers. “And I want to touch you. Come here.”

She swallowed.

“Why the hell should I do anything you say?”

“Because I am the Zhaal. And your future husband, if all goes well. Which, by the way, will allow me to touch you any time and anywhere I want.”

“In your dreams, snake-boy.”

“You forget. Vraxians do not dream. Now come here, small human.”

“Drop dead.”

With a sigh, Vahn extended one of his sinuous serpetri and wrapped it round her waist. Kara yelped as she was lifted off her feet and deposited in his lap.

“Let me go, you bastard!”

She struggled fruitlessly which did little but to increase his amusement.

“Tell me, if you hate me so much, why have you agreed to fight twelve other Potentials for the right to marry me?”

“Because you said it would mean peace with Earth. That’s the only reason, jerk-off.” She tugged at the serpetrus holding her in place.

“So you’re willing to give up your freedom and marry an alien you profess to hate in the hopes of ending the war? That’s very patriotic of you.”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and the gentleness of his gesture disconcerted her.

“Anyone would do the same,” she muttered.

His hand cupped her cheek and she fought not to lean into it. God, he smelled good.

“Kara, it will not be an easy challenge. Do you truly understand what it will mean to join the shaa’baara contest?” He gazed down at her seriously. “Vraxian females are ferocious.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

He absently traced her collar-bone with his thumb, the butterfly touch sending electric sparks through her skin. He’s got a bloody nerve , she thought, though somehow she couldn’t seem to move away.

“I know you are a fighter. But I would rather forgo the plan altogether than see you get hurt.”

“You mean you’d rather marry one of them? ”

The outrage in her voice made him smile.

“Why would you care? You hate me.”

He leaned forward and nuzzled the dip behind her ear. Suddenly she found it hard to think.

“Yes,” she managed. “But if there’s even half a chance your cockamamie idea will force Earth into a peace deal…”

“Cockamamie?” He pulled back, puzzled. “I do not know this term.”

“Half-baked. Mad. Absurd.”

“Ah.” He leaned forward again and this time trailed his lips over the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “As absurd as the idea that you hate me.”

“I do hate you. I hate you with a passion.”

“In my book, anything done with passion is no bad thing.”

He grazed her jaw with his mouth and her pulse jumped erratically. His hands circled her hips, pulling her more firmly into his lap.

“I have missed this,” he said softly. “The taste of you. Your scent. Be honest, Kara. Have you not missed me too?”

The pulse in her throat started jumping erratically.

“No. I haven’t.”

He let out a low rumble of laughter.

“Liar.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and brushed her lips sensuously with his own. Heat flared low in her stomach, mixing with the resentment that still curdled there.

It’s not fair , she thought bitterly. After everything he’s done, how can he still make me feel this way?

She wanted to kiss him. That was the truth of it. And when his tongue pressed gently against her still closed mouth, her resistance crumbled.

Angrily, she kissed him back. She didn’t know if it was desire or fury which drove her, but she pressed her mouth to his with an urgency that bordered on frenzy.

“Kara,” he groaned, her sudden hunger igniting his lust.

Deepening the kiss, he slid his hand under her shirt, cupping one luscious breast possessively. Her nipple was already hard and he pinched it between finger and thumb, the way he knew she liked.

Kara arched into his touch, furious at her own helpless capitulation but desperately wanting more. He swelled beneath her, his girth stiffening into a steel rod that pressed against her most intimate places with delicious friction. She quivered with excitement.

It would be so easy to let him have his way. To mount him here, on his throne, and taste the ecstasy they’d shared on Minerva-6. But her anger hadn’t dissipated. She could feel it in her gut, sharp and flinty, vying with her desire.

You can’t let him do this. She wanted to. God, she wanted to so much. But she’d hate herself if she did. And she’d hate him even more.

Battling her own impulses, she put her hand on the soft skin behind his ear and scratched. Hard. With a hiss he grabbed her wrist.

“Easy, kalehsha, ” he warned.

“Let me go, snake-boy.”

“Not until I bury my face in your juices and make you reach jarna at least twice.”

“That’s not happening.”

“But you want it to.” He studied her flushed face and swollen lips. “You’re mine. You will always be mine.”

With every last ounce of her strength, Kara drew back her other hand and punched him in the face.