Alien General's Bride: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (4 page)

She tried to keep her mind occupied with real, important issues. Like if the Brions would try to take revenge on her for making them play taxi to her. Would agent Perkins be alright? Or would he find a Brion under his bed later with a whispered “Commander Grothan sends his regards” as the last thing he’d ever hear? Probably not, of course, since if there was one thing you could trust a Brion to do, it was to settle his own disputes. The general would never actually send someone else to pay back for a slight towards him. But would he find the agent himself one day? Also, what was up with Rhea? Agent Perkins had made her think her mission there hadn’t been even close to a routine operation. If it was that important, why had they chosen her? Isolde was good at what she did, but surely there were others better suited? Her theory that Rhea was a small task Terra was making a big deal of was going up in smoke. This was a messed up situation she was in, for sure.

All that was what she should have
theoretically
been thinking about.

What her mind actually returned to was the commander. Grothan had done something to her. At least she dearly wished he had, because otherwise she was no better than any other love-struck fool and had fallen for the first alien hunk she met. Alright, the third, but still.

Yet, yet… the way he had looked at her made Isolde desperately long for him, or she could settle for a room with privacy and maybe a poster? A picture, even? A vid would be lovely, thank you.

University life didn’t serve dating possibilities on a platter, after all. And while Isolde knew there were plenty of guys who liked curvier girls like her, she didn’t exactly want to be someone’s fetish. Like, it was okay for a guy to like her, but not in the way of “Oh yeah, I always go for girls like you”.
Girls like you
. Curvy girls, not to say fatties. So after some real dates and some blind dates gone badly, she had sort of pushed the whole man-issue aside and focused on other things. It didn’t help she knew she had been named after a famous beauty. At least they hadn’t called her Helen.

But now… Grothan had brought back every fantasy she had ever had. All the time spent alone – it almost hurt between her legs as she thought of the commander. She was in space, but all she could think of was what that incredibly low voice would sound like in passion, if it would break when he whispered her name, his big frame heavy and strong and lean against hers and if she could hear his heart beat faster and faster as he sped up…

“Isolde Fenner,” the incredibly low voice said from behind her.

She later found it amusing that the first thought that flew through her head was,
Oh gods almighty, don’t be a telepath
.

Banishing the delicious images from her head, Isolde turned and found the object of her fantasies standing much closer than she had thought. The other Brion was gone. Er… um.

“Yes?” she said, cursing her voice for shaking a little.

Grothan cocked his head to one side, reminding Isolde of a predator scouting his surroundings.

“I hear fear,” the warrior said, taking a step back.
Aww
, Isolde’s treacherous libido purred. “You need not fear me, Isolde Fenner. I will not hurt you. None of my warriors will hurt you.”

Oh.
That was a load off her mind. The Brions were known for their honor, so she could trust him to keep his word.

“Thank you,” she said. “I really am sorry for all this; I didn’t want to… to make trouble.”

He didn’t try to assure her it was no trouble at all. Instead, his posture stiffened and he seemed to listen again. Only Isolde hadn’t said anything this time.

“Your heart beats fast and your body temperature seems high for a human,” the commander said then, making Isolde’s heart beat even faster.
Oh good grief, unfair! Stop listening to my bodily functions!
“My experience with humans shows these are signs of illness. Do you require a healer, Isolde Fenner?”

His pronunciation of her name was surprisingly good, but it was getting kind of annoying, even if she
did
like hearing him say it. She was also infinitely grateful to him for speaking simplified Brionese with her. It would have been a nightmare to be stuck on an alien ship
and
not understand them.

“You don’t have to keep saying my full name, Commander. Just Isolde is fine. And um… no, I am not sick. I…”

She was aware she was now blushing fiercely. Something, which of course, didn’t go over his alien head. He frowned.

“Now your color is changing. Are you sure you do not want a healer?”

Oh yes. Tell them to find a cure for being attracted to you. Or you know, don’t. Just throw me over that console there and…

“No,” Isolde said more firmly. “It must just be the space and the ship. I have never left Terra before.” A part of that was even true. She quickly added, “But thank you again, Commander Grothan, for your concern.”

Something flashed in his eyes as she said that and before Isolde could think of how she had offended him, Grothan levelled his piercing gaze straight at her and all but growled, “Yes. I am very concerned about you. If you have any troubles, let one of my men know and they will hurry to aid you.”

That was… uncharacteristically kind of him, Isolde thought.

Then something even weirder happened. The alien warlord looked uncertain for a moment, almost hesitant. As quickly as the feeling had appeared, it was gone and his posture became rigid again.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said.

Well.
That phrasing was odd, even if it seemed reasonable to Isolde that just like she was interested in her hosts, the commander would wonder about this strange human woman on his ship.

“What would you like to know, General?” she asked, unsure of how to address him. Would he prefer “General” or “Commander”? So far, he didn’t seem to mind either. Perhaps they were equal titles in his mind.

For an answer, he spoke something quickly into a device on his collar. Then he unslung the heavy Brion battle spear, their signature weapon –
How much blood must have trickled off that
, the thought shot through Isolde’s mind – and placed it against the wall. It was nearly as tall as he was. It also occurred to Isolde that he might have been trying to seem less threatening to her. This was just getting weird. With skepticism she didn’t usually possess, she had to wonder what had made the bloody general suddenly so keen to play nice.

The doors opened for a Brion – without the squares and the spear, much shorter – who delivered two cups and a decanter. He placed the items on the table and left quickly. Grothan didn’t even spare him a look, his gaze fixed on Isolde.

“Drink,” he instructed, taking a seat on a couch. Other than the table and two couches, the cavernous room was empty. Brions valued function. “It is safe for humans.”

Isolde wasn’t all that thirsty, but to refuse would have been foolish. She poured herself a cup, sitting opposite of him, feeling
very
conscious of the fact she was alone in a room with a man personally responsible for more people killed than she had ever met. She was also painfully aware of how his surprisingly calm, deep eyes seemed to caress her skin, making her bask in his attention.

The squares didn’t seem to glow, either. He seemed… relaxed.

“Tell me about why you were chosen to go to Rhea, and why you are not,” Grothan said as she took a sip. It tasted a bit like lime juice, if she had to compare it to something, but sweeter.

Isolde sighed. “I don’t really know either, Commander,” – OK, he seemed to react better to that – “I was told to go to Rhea and help with the research there. You know, the usual stuff with new planets. Culture, languages, research into their economics and politics and if we could establish an alliance with them. A sort of an observational negotiator, I suppose? We were to introduce our own cultures too. Trying to show an image of the GU. But I missed the ship.”

“The ship was under orders to wait for you. Why did it leave?”

How did you know that?
Isolde wondered, but pressing a warlord for information didn’t seem like a good idea. “I don’t know,” she repeated.

Grothan nodded, seemingly in thought.

Her mouth seemed as treacherous as her body, it seemed, because she heard her own voice ask, “What were you doing on
Luna Secunda
?”

Oh, now you’ve done it. Goodbye, cruel world, it’s been fun.

To her surprise, Grothan didn’t lash out. “I was escorting our ambassador to the station. I offered the
Forger
to guard your transport ship until she met her flotilla, but found it had already left. I did not plan to pick up you, however.”

“Sorry,” Isolde mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Grothan said, standing. “I am not. Now I must return to my duties. I will speak to you again on the
Triumphant
. If you need anything, ask your guards.”

Isolde still hadn’t shut her mouth when the door slid shut after him. Was… was the alien warlord flirting with her?
 

CHAPTER FOUR

Diego

It was not in Diego Grothan’s nature to question the way things were. A Brion warrior wasn’t supposed to constantly wonder about the order of the world. They had elders for that, men and women of all areas of life that had stepped back from their duties and had started to look back on their own actions. To be honest, Diego was slightly concerned about that phase of his life. The Elders said it was a natural state and that the transition would come to him as it came to all others, but the quiet life did not call to him. He was a warrior. His place was at the head of his men.

So when he came down to
Luna Secunda
to see who had the audacity to summon him in person to settle an argument, his mind had been on ways to enact revenge on the hybrid without making it cost his people too much. He had hoped the hybrid would be reasonable and understand that to provoke a man of his stature was not something he could walk away from.

It was all well in the order of things. But then he had seen the woman, Isolde Fenner.

All right, so there were some things he questioned. For some time now, he had wondered why he didn’t seem to find his mate. He was well within the age when Brion men bind to
geshas
, their life partners and became their
gerions
in turn. To be honest, he was growing worried. Other warriors, lesser men than him – brothers, but little brothers, no match for his might – found Brion women and got to experience what all the Elders said was the single best moment of their lives.

In his darkest dreams, Diego wondered if it was possible that he had had the moment but hadn’t recognized it. He had tried to provoke the finding and attended gatherings where there were many unbound women. Some had caught his attention with their looks and some with their personalities. He had met a great many female warriors who he considered worthy to fight beside. Had he missed it? Deliya was a beautiful warrior, fierce and proud; he had felt great pride when she had managed to give him a real workout once or twice. But it was just pride, and occasionally, lust. Aneya was introduced to him by his parents, long thought to provoke the binding at once and she truly was a beauty, with quiet wisdom. He treasured her like a sister, even if he was aware of her tremendous disappointment at not being his fated. Urenya had been his companion since they were young enough not to even remember it. She served now as a healer aboard the
Triumphant
. Diego spoke to her often and considered her one of only three people in the galaxy he could completely trust. A best friend. Not a
gesha
.

He had accessed the medical, cultural, religious and even psychological works on the recognizing moment in secret. He read with silent, cold envy of the way his brothers described the moment as a coming together of pieces they hadn’t known they were. A single moment of utter self-awareness, knowing what you were and that the one before you was the one to stand by your side until the darkness.

Nothing marred that. Not even the fighting to follow. Brion women didn’t get that moment, didn’t experience the absolute knowledge. So they ran, or fought, or doubted them, even if they knew fate would bring them together one way or another. In time, the fighting had become customary. Women fought and then they gave in and it was known that they had fought each other, but from that moment they would fight together.

Diego had been close to thinking there was something wrong with him. He was a great general, yet he was without a second half.

The moment he locked eyes with Isolde Fenner, asking him to spare the life of the hybrid that he had already decided would be taken, he’d known.

Warmth filled his heart and, like he had been injected with battle toxins, his every sense suddenly flared to life. He had never heard his heart beating with such intensity, although Brions had very sharp hearing. Diego felt strength rush through every inch of his body and he knew he was mighty. At that moment, he could have broken the hybrid’s neck between his fingers.