Alien General's Bride: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (28 page)

Yes. Eleya had been right. There was nothing wrong with Briolina itself as much as she had seen. The people seemed to be pretty much the same as on the
Triumphant
. No one looked at her weirdly, on the contrary, she truly seemed to be the small wonder Eleya had assured her she would be. Isolde longed to explore the planet further. With Diego at her arm, she could go anywhere, press her lips to his when no one was looking, have him take her under the immense colorful trees, scream her pleasure for the general, not caring who heard…

Isolde wondered how she had missed the moment when she had lost the fight with herself.

She guessed it had been Eleya. Something about the way the senator had phrased the whole question had made her realize she had misunderstood all of them. When they had kept telling her that any Brion woman would have been overjoyed to have Diego for a
gerion
, Isolde had assumed they meant she should have been publicly drooling all over him and jumping out of her skin for a famous general. Partly true, but not entirely so.

What they had meant, but it only occurred to Isolde when Eleya said it, was that it could have been so much worse. The binding was sacred to the Brions. Damn oversimplifying and all that, but she had never thought of what kind of a terror it was to the Brions themselves. All the galaxy heard was that it was the Brion way and the binding always made the couple happy and they were meant for each other. Isolde had thought there was something wrong with her, that the fact she wasn’t losing her mind in thankfulness meant that perhaps the bond, or she, was somehow flawed.

It made sense, especially to an ethnographer, that the Brions would deny and hide the more complicated versions of the binding. Would deny that fate didn’t always make everything easy. It was logical to hide something they had to have been afraid of themselves, if Brions even felt fear. Eleya had spoken of praying.

Isolde couldn’t imagine sitting and waiting for her fated to come and claim her only to find he was nothing like she’d wanted him to be. With a moment to sit and gather her thoughts that had been running all over the place, Isolde finally felt like she was on the same page with them.

They hadn’t meant “oh look at that hunk of a man, don’t you want to climb that like a tree”.

All true. And she did.

They had rather meant “Diego is a good match”. Not just for having the body of a Greek god and a voice that made Isolde’s legs tremble and eyes that made her forget her own name.

Also true.

It could simply have been… so much worse. So there Isolde was, the
gesha
to a man who was not only gorgeous on a level that bordered on ridiculous, but who also adored her completely and was willing to fight for what was right.

Which raised the question of
why exactly
was she still saying no? All her life she hadn’t really wanted anything with a passion, had always been lukewarm to any of the options. Now she had something she wanted so much it hurt, when it could have hurt in so much better ways – when it could have been the sweet, ecstatic pain of being filled with a cock that huge, having Diego all to herself and not coming out of the bedroom for weeks to make up the time they’d lost.

Having her general fuck her until she couldn’t walk and then simply being with him.
That
was the pain she wanted, not ripping her mind in two by trying to refuse something she wanted more than anything. It wasn’t merely physical either. Diego called to her, in his entirety. They were one.

Isolde shook in frustration. She should have told him, should have told Diego when she left the station. Definitely should have told him before he fought that beast who could easily kill him…

She dashed out of her room.

--

Isolde found Eleya in her office or whatever passed for it in the great palace. The Brions stared at her as she hurried, Deliya and Narath making way for her. Some of them seemed pretty important, one or two wore senator’s robes and Isolde probably should have stopped to greet them, but she had denied herself for too long. She had to tell Diego. At least that. If he died, if she never got to be in his arms again, at least he’d know…

Eleya was, Isolde noticed with slight annoyance, not surprised in any way. The senator smiled as words simply poured out of Isolde, uncontrolled, unchecked. Telling her anything she could to convince Eleya to let her speak to Diego.

“It is not that uncommon for someone to have an epiphany before fighting Crane,” Eleya said, amused. “Only usually it is the one fighting him reevaluating his life choices.”

“Can you send him a message?” Isolde pleaded. The focus of her life had suddenly become getting those words to Diego.

“He is already on his way to the arena,” Eleya said, regretfully this time. “We will join him there.”

“Can I see him before the fight?”

“No. But we can take seats right at the edge. He can see you there.”

It had to be enough, although Isolde would have preferred not to have thousands upon thousands of Brions as an audience to her confession.

Deliya and Narath joined them in the wait to the beginning of the fight suitably held very close to the senators’ palace. On the walls of Eleya’s office, screens showed the arena, clearly the event of the year.

“Everyone is rooting for Diego,” Deliya said supportively. “There should not be sixteen generals. Eren is not making himself popular with this. And everyone knows Crane is unfit for command.”

Isolde could only nod as she watched the preparations for the upcoming fight. Then something huge passed before the screen, blocking almost everything in sight despite the object seeming to be some distance away from the camera.

Isolde’s breath caught as it stepped into the fading light. It reminded her of the beast in Diego’s trophy room. She wasn’t entirely certain her eyes weren’t fooling her, and it
wasn’t
actually the trophy come back to life to have its revenge.

“What… is that?” she dared ask, although the answer was obvious.

“That is Crane,” Eleya said, and even her voice sounded quiet.

The trophy beast howled, prowling the arena. In zoos on Terra, Isolde had sometimes seen wild, caged animals roar like that.

“I’m not a warrior, but – how is it even possible to fight
that
unarmed?”

There were three warriors in the room with her, who were supposed to know. None of them answered.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY

Diego

To those who didn’t know Diego Grothan at all, it might have looked like he was a man preparing to die. In a way, he was. Fighting a monster like Crane barehanded was not something one could afford to take easily.

Diego was confident, but not cocky. His training had been the best Briolina could offer, and he swore not to shame it that day. A Brion general didn’t make a fool of himself. There was honor even in losing, if you went down fighting. He planned to do no such thing, but he was aware that everything he did in the arena would be watched and judged. His words would carry the weight of whatever his image was after the fight ended.

Crane was not someone to be underestimated, but Diego had not been
grothan
for so long by not knowing his advantages and weaknesses. Crane was bigger, which meant he was slower. He lacked self-preservation, which made him dangerous, but also uncaring about the wounds he received. Both those things and many more could work in his favor.

Faren and Atren had joined him under the arena. Briolina’s two moons had risen, casting the world in twilight. Diego wished he could have said something to Isolde. He hoped she’d be at the ringside, so he could get one last look at those beautiful green eyes, if it was meant to be his last. He would fight to the end, to his dying breath to get another.

“Report,” he commanded.

Atren sighed. “No modifications to his skin and flesh, but I would look out for his punches. My sources and Eleya’s suggest there may have been some reinforcing surgery on his bones. Nothing certain. He spent some time in the facilities on the other side of Nerth, healers specializing in bone tech were present, but that is it. Could be a false lead.”

Diego thought it over, adjusting to the new information and the possibility it was fake. “Very well,” he said. “The other thing? Are your tasks clear?”

There were affirmative nods from both.

He sent them away, taking the last minutes of preparation for himself. On the door, Faren paused. “I will keep her safe,” he said and left.

That had to have been the most shocking thing to happen to him that day, Diego thought with morbid amusement. Never mind Crane and the very real possibility he’d have his head ripped off in front of Isolde’s eyes. Faren hadn’t meant keeping Isolde safe after the fight, where the situation was anybody’s game – until the result, they all behaved nicely, but Diego was making no illusions that it all bordered on the edge of a knife. Atren would take care of that. He had meant that if Diego was to die, he would see his
gesha
was delivered to safety and kept so.

He’d be damned, that had to have been the most sentimental thing Faren had ever said. Maybe Eren was right and they were going soft.

Diego allowed himself a chuckle at that. He flexed his muscles, feeling the pure, unrestrained strength pulse beneath his skin, the stimulants racing through his blood. It was good to be strong. It was good to be alive. He would remain so.

“Diego,” a voice said then. A voice that he had used to look forward to hearing, but which only seemed to bring him exasperation lately. He turned to Aneya, again pale with fear. It was not a proper look on a Brion woman.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, annoyed. The preparation area was supposed to be restricted to anyone he didn’t personally invite there.

“My family can get to most places it wishes,” Aneya said. “I asked them to let me through. I had to see you before you went. Diego, the reinforced bones…”

“Will be no use to him,” he replied tersely, even more furious that she’d doubt him. “Leave, Aneya.”

“No,” she pleaded. “You may die. I just wanted to tell you that I will wait for you. And that I am yours, always.”

That again.
Diego sighed, drawing on his last reserves of patience with her. “You are not. Now leave and abandon this foolishness.” Of course, it was difficult to watch her struggle with her emotions, yet he had to be firm. His mood soured, being in the presence of her longing desperation, one he could do nothing about, nor soothe in any fashion.

Then Aneya finally crossed the line. “You are only doing this because you feel protective of her, she is in danger and you are…”

Diego’s glare silenced her at once. He took a step closer, eyes shooting daggers at her shivering form.

“You are either saying I lie about my bond or that I cannot recognize one,” he said, quiet and deadly. “For all the help you are and for the person I remember you to be, who I hope you still are when you finally come to your senses, I will not kill you where you stand. Get out, and thank the gods I have to kill someone already today, or I would not have been able to stop myself from making you pay for your words.”

Telling her to go usually resulted in her pouting, but this time it brought despair. Aneya sobbed. “You will see,” she said. “There will come a day when you will see. Diego…”

When he turned his back to her, furious and annoyed that she’d ruined his focus with a matter that should have been concluded a long, long time ago, he heard her leave, although her shaky breathing echoed back for several moments.

He belonged to Isolde alone. His life, and if need be – his death.

---

As he walked to the arena, Diego felt calm, as he usually did before a fight. He wasn’t a man to walk into battle unprepared. He felt he had done everything he possibly could have.

The crowds roared above him, up on the balconies and on the seats around the arena. He saw the senators, gathered in force to see two Brion generals battle to death. It wasn’t something that happened every day, after all. This was nothing short of a rarity. The crowds roared his name, but Diego’s heart called to only one.

He had done everything he could. Atren would join Eleya and Isolde in providing protection if needed, and Diego was almost certain it was. Whether he’d win or lose, Eren wasn’t about to let them take his victory. A part of Diego understood. It was not the Brion way to accept defeat, or insult.

And now that he knew who Eleya was – among other things explaining her anger at him and the other generals for letting Eren rip her from their ranks – he’d instructed Atren to extend his protection to her as well. She was not helpless, of course, that would have been a terrible insult, but Eren had Brion generals loyal to him too. A fighting arm would not go to waste.

The rest of their allies were in orbit, keeping an eye on their enemies and holding the defensive line in case someone tried to run. The
Triumphant
, the
Unbroken
and the
Fearless
, under the commands of their seconds, were among them.