Freed By the Alien Prince by Tori Kellett

Chapter One

He isn’t here.

Sascha didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved. She had a line of warriors all waiting to meet her, except the one she wanted. Maybe that was a good thing? At least I won’t make an ass of myself. She had a feeling those startling turquoise eyes and that reserved manner hid something much deeper, almost violent in its intensity.

And she’d spent sixteen years running from violence.

“Sascha.”

She dragged her gaze back to the warrior in front of her—Julian, N’ameth’s co-pilot from the cruiser—and smiled a little when she saw how nervous he was. He was probably expecting her to be angry with him. He had been one of the three warriors that had taken them from Earth, but—she supposed—he had been following orders.

“Julian. It’s nice to meet you,” she murmured. Polite. Distant almost. She had no doubt Julian was a competent warrior and would be a good mate, husband, whatever. His expectations would be less. He wasn’t a member of the royal family, so there would be no forcing herself into situations she didn’t want to be in.

“I would like to put forward my name for consideration.”

Of course he would. She knew why they were all here. Six women had been kidnapped and taken billions of miles from Earth. Callie–now the Queen of Ishtaan–had negotiated a deal after all the women found out they wouldn’t be going home. Ever. They had until the end of this month—lunar cycle—to choose a mate. “Tell me about yourself.”

Julian launched into a list of his accomplishments. That Prince N’ameth had just granted him the status of First Warrior, which seemed to be the equivalent of some sort of promotion. That he was going to get his own suite in the palace and not live in the bunkhouse. He didn’t call it that, but she knew what he meant. They all had a translator chip fitted. It had translated as multiple warrior housing, but bunkhouse sounded better. He had a younger brother who was just entering training, and it was likely he would have more duties here now that Prince N’ameth had need of him to help with the new trainees. As she listened to another couple of supposed enticements, she wondered if he knew he had mentioned Prince N’ameth four times in the space of two minutes’ conversation.

He sounded obsessed almost. Not that she could call anyone out on that.

Or not a conversation exactly, because that inferred two people were taking part, and Julian didn’t seem to need her help at all. He reminded her of a pound puppy, so desperate to be taken home. But she wasn’t going to mate someone simply because they needed rehoming.

“Thank you,” she interrupted gently. “I will make my decision by the end of the lunar cycle.”

He smiled shyly, bowed, and retreated. She watched as he squared his shoulders and joined the line waiting to speak to Isobel. Good luck with that.

The next warrior surprised her. Technically, Lam’saak had been on Ishtaan for less time than she had. He was a descendant of Ishtaan whose family had been involved in some sort of rebellion and had been banished to N’olaan, one of their closest planets. His build was similar to N’ameth, maybe a little smaller, and a slightly different skin tone. Who was she kidding? Apples and oranges much? She held in the sigh, knowing she had it bad for a certain other warrior.

He bowed fully from the waist. Not the head nod she’d grown accustomed to. Okay, so points for that. Not that she was keeping score or anything.

“Female Sascha. I present to you my name and family.” Well, that was new. Everyone else seemed more concerned with battles won.

“Your family?”

He seemed startled that she had spoken. “My name has been returned to me. I am able to tell you about my sire.” She listened while he extolled his family’s virtues. What would he say if she told him about her family? Would he be shocked?

My father was a bully. My mother was incapable of so much as a hug. And they both wielded the Bible like a weapon.

“But I don’t think you care.”

Her wanderings came to a screeching halt, and she looked into Lam’saak’s amused eyes. How could she say this diplomatically? “I care about the here and now more, yes. I don’t know enough about your planet to worry about what your grandfather did or believed. I’m much more interested in what you believe.”

She recognized the acknowledgment and the humor in his gaze, and her respect raised a notch.

“I like a female who knows her own mind.”

Did he though? She wasn’t convinced. So far, all the Ishtaans didn’t seem to know what to do with one. They seemed to expect them to swoon at the first sign of a warrior’s pecs. Or sword. No, not that one.

“Have you seen N’ameth?”

Sascha glanced at Lexie, who was nearly vibrating with excitement. Case in point. “No.” Not that she’d been looking for him. Much. Who was she kidding? Comparing someone like N’ameth to Julian was like a Van Gogh masterpiece to a drawing by one of her preschoolers. Maybe that was why he hadn’t shown? Too good to simply line up with the rest? Maybe as a prince he felt he could just curl his finger and one of them would come running. Lexie certainly would. Lam’saak bowed and made a retreat, and she gave him serious thought. He was intelligent. She loved that, so long as it didn’t come with attitude. She just couldn’t see herself with someone like Julian. The trouble was her need for intellectual stimulation warred with her need for control.

And her inability to give it up.

“It might just be he’s busy,” Lexie said grudgingly, completely oblivious to Sascha’s inner turmoil. “Isn’t he flying something?”

Sascha bit off a retort. This wasn’t some Top Gun scenario. “He’s interviewing the prisoners.” She’d seen him two days ago after he had left the cells. She’d made sure he hadn’t seen her. He looked strained, exhausted, and it had taken every reserve, every defense, she had built up from growing up with her father not to rush to him. Callie had told her what had happened with Xar’ta and his sire. She’d been busy organizing the search areas at the time.

Big wow.

But then if she could corral twenty preschoolers, Ishtaan warriors should be a breeze.

The temptation was the one who wouldn’t be so easy. The one who had held her hand so gently on the cruiser and soothed her fears. Made her want him. Made her body wake up in ways she hadn’t thought was even possible. But then, wasn’t that the same with everything tempting? People always craved what was bad for them.

He’s too young for me anyway.

“So…what? Callie’s been selling lottery tickets or something?”

Sascha glanced over with amusement at Rachel, resplendent in full Ishtaan uniform. Sascha was wearing M’apeth silks in different shades of green. They were cool, and she hoped made her look a little taller than her five feet, five inches. They also covered her very generous E cup. It was a good thing they were here to have babies. She could feed an entire maternity ward with what nature gave her. Lexie had at least two inches on her, a very svelte body, along with perfect blond hair and startling blue eyes.

Maybe her green silks were an appropriate color. “Have you come to rescue me, warrior?”

Rachel snorted. “You need about as much rescuing as I do.” Rachel rolled her eyes as the next warrior in Sascha’s line sighed impatiently, waiting to be called forward.

“I’m surprised you’re here.” Sascha glanced at her again.

“We agreed,” Rachel said shortly.

“So, are you here to entice someone or frighten them away?” Sascha could see the blaster Rachel carried and guessed at the knives she couldn’t.

“Me?” Rachel answered in a mock innocent-sounding voice. Rachel shrugged. “Lover boy’s over there.”

Sascha immediately glanced over to where Rachel had come from, and sure enough, N’ameth, Voren, and Zak—or King Zakaarir as he was now after successfully mating Callie—were all standing in the far corner looking like they wanted to be here as much as she did. N’ameth had his head lowered, so she couldn’t see his face. As she watched, Voren said something to Zak and strode away. Rachel didn’t comment, but Sascha knew which warrior caused the barely heard sound of frustration Rachel’s lungs didn’t seem to be able to contain. Rachel thought her sarcasm hid everything. She was wrong.

“Does the thought you’ll never go back bother you?” It was such a strange question from Rachel that it gave Sascha pause. Of course she’d thought about it. Isobel wouldn’t shut up about never returning to Earth, but Rachel hadn’t ventured an opinion either way.

“Honestly? Not much. I would kill for a pizza and some house red, but I didn’t have a lot to miss. You?”

“I suppose it depends on what you value.” Sascha glanced up at Rachel’s tone. There was so much buried beneath those quiet words, but she didn’t know how to start unearthing them—pun intended—or even if she should.

Pizza and house red? It was a good thing Rachel wasn’t interested in digging.She wasn’t sure how much her own foundations were shored up.

A squeal saved her from an answer, and she glanced at the corner again as Lexie practically threw herself at N’ameth, who didn’t seem to object. She turned away, determined he wouldn’t see her looking, and smiled at the warriors waiting for her.

“He’s looking at you,” Rachel teased and strode away.

Well, I’m not going to look at him.Except, of course, she did, and just before she could drag her gaze back, N’ameth looked up, and they locked eyes. The ground seemed to fall away. She didn’t hear any of the cluster of warriors that had decided to descend on her. She only saw turquoise, felt the ripple of that stare brush her skin. The air between them charged and sent a spark back and forth.

Then she saw the blood on his face. He was hurt, and she was hurrying across the room before the warriors who were all vying for her attention took their next breath.

Sascha didn’t. Oxygen was overrated anyway.