Brocke: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Surprise Pregnancy Alien Military Romance) (13 page)

Brocke kissed her lazily, lovingly.

“You are mine,” he repeated, much gentler this time. “From now on until forever. I will protect you and keep you from all harm. You must always know, Cora. As much as you are mine, I am yours as well.”

Cora smiled, pulling Brocke in for another kiss. She loved the feel of his short black hair, messed up by their furious fucking. The warlord ran his fingers gently over her cheeks and down to her neck. Brocke went on from there, teasingly playing with her nipples on the way before he placed one hand protectively on Cora’s belly.

“Both of yours,” he said.

Cora cuddled deeper into his arms, enjoying the way Brocke wrapped her into his safe, hot embrace.

Somewhere out there was a world that they belonged to, but in that perfect moment, Cora thought there were only the two of them.

Three
, she corrected in her head.

She had been so caught up in the simple pleasures of life that Cora practically yelped when Brocke’s hard cock poked at her thigh. Raising her eyes to meet his, Cora saw a newfound lust flaring in Brocke’s gaze.

“The night is long,” the warlord growled, low and seductive. “I can think of several ways we can spend the time.”

Yeah, I bet sleeping isn’t one of them
, Cora thought, but she agreed whole-heartedly.

With a mischievous chuckle, she pushed Brocke on his back and climbed on top of him. The warlord watched her with an amused quirk of his brow. Never breaking eye-contact, Cora rubbed her ass against Brocke’s erection.

The long, hungry groan she received in return was the best thing Cora had ever heard. So she repeated the motion, laughing when Brocke grabbed her with a feral growl and rolled them over again.

B
rocke woke long before Cora
.

Corgans, even half-breeds, didn’t need much sleep. They could go for days without feeling the effects of exhaustion, although of course it was better to rest every once in a while. Corgan DNA was superior to Terran as far as physical characteristics went and as such, most half-breeds really were more Corgan than Terran.

In his arms, Cora slept so peacefully that Brocke didn’t even move a muscle. He simply opened his eyes, registered the warmth of Cora resting her head on his chest and smiled.

Her red, fiery hair was spread out on his broad shoulders, and one of Cora’s beautiful soft hands was draped over him. Brocke couldn’t imagine anyone being able to wake her when she looked like that.

The world returned too quickly for his liking.

Brocke frowned, thinking that it was some sort of an unholy blasphemy to think of Condor when he was holding the most beautiful woman in the world in his arms.

But there the priest was. Like a dark cloud over their happiness, he didn’t let his existence be forgotten. Across the room, Brocke could see Cora’s program still running on the console and wondered if it had found something.

Even if it had, he wasn’t about to check it out before Cora awoke. Considering what they were about to do, the little Terran needed all the rest she could get.

While she dreamed, Brocke rethought everything. It wasn’t in his nature to second-guess himself or doubt the course of action he was already set upon, but this was different. As long as Cora and their child were involved, nothing could go wrong.

Brocke knew he would be able to win against any warrior in the Corgan realm – the few worthy opponents would never have anything to do with the likes of Condor – but he still had to protect Cora.

Going for the priestess was a risky move, but it was the best they had. So far, the rest of Gaiya had proved almost universally unreliable. Brocke trusted neither the Union, nor the embassy, nor the Militant to know what was really going on. If Condor was able to infiltrate them, there was no telling what lies he might feed to them.

Brocke preferred to be the one asking the questions.

As for the Corgans, he didn’t have much faith in them either. Even the Citadel, the stronghold of the chieftain, wasn’t without a shadow of doubt. The Corgans were old-fashioned by default, and what Condor was saying appealed to many.

Nadar Brenger had warned Brocke about that. His father had been adamant that Brocke handle the matter of Condor right. It was why he had left, to give Brocke complete freedom and total reign over the matter without complicating anything with his presence.

Brocke knew what was at stake. Under no circumstances could he make Condor a martyr for the cause. He needed to prove to the realm that Condor was a madman and his teachings vile, or there would be no end to the people willing to take up his mantel.

Above all, Brocke needed to create a world for Cora and their child where no one asked about their species. He was beginning to understand why the Palians were so strict with the Union law about the protection of personal information about species.

Cora moved against him, and Brocke banished Condor from his mind.

She was truly gorgeous like that. Of course, Brocke thought the little Terran was always beautiful, but there was an almost ethereal quality to the way she sleepily opened her hazel eyes. As soon as her gaze fell on him, a wide smile broke on Cora’s features.

“Nice,” she said, laughing at a joke he didn’t catch. “I remember this time. For some reason, I feel like I need to write back home and tell Terran girls what they’re missing.”

Understanding at last, Brocke kissed her, loving the way she responded at once, without any hesitation. Cora pushed the sheets away to climb on top of him again, but as much as Brocke loved where she was going with it, they had pressing issues to deal with.

He pushed her away as gently as he could, hating the fact that Condor was intervening in their lives even from a distance. But Cora didn’t seem too mad.

“What’s going on?” she asked instead, her big eyes wide with curiosity. “Has my program found him?”

“I haven’t gone to see,” Brocke said. “I couldn’t wake you up.”

Cora glared at him, but he could see that it was more a jest than an accusation.

“At least you have your priorities straight,” she told him.

Cora climbed out of bed, and Brocke’s gaze followed her as she walked across the room, stark naked. The guardian had to fight the urge to carry her back to bed, but instead, he got up and dressed.

A new armor was waiting for him in the armory. First, they needed a course.

“It’s that weird word again,” Cora said, observing the screens.

Brocke froze in his actions for a second, but that was all the anger he allowed himself. The guardian resumed dressing with terrible calm, seeing only red before his eyes.

“Do you know what ‘Olyra’ means?” Cora was asking. “I saw the same word on some maps before you left. Is it a place? A term in Corgan? It keeps coming up. I’ve crossed all the possible paths of the latest abductions, and they keep coming up in one area. I would have dismissed it because there’s nothing there, but some older charts you provided are –”

“Yes,” Brocke said, hating the fact his voice gained a dark edge he didn’t want to use near Cora.

“Yes what?” she asked, turning to him.

Seeing the look on his face, Cora’s expression changed. She walked back to the bed in silence and dressed as well. Brocke watched as Cora covered up that beautiful body of hers, swearing that the next time they were together, there would be no threat hanging above her head. Or their child’s.

“I know what Olyra is,” he said. “All Corgans do, unfortunately.”

Cora sat on the bed, looking at him expectantly. She was very quiet and serious all of a sudden, switching to her work mode as easily as Brocke became the Guardian of Gomor.

He didn’t know what to say. The Galactic Union had many problems with the Corgans, and he agreed with about half of them. They were a bit too weird for the general population of the galaxy, but that was the Union’s problem, not theirs.

The things that took place in Olyra were a mark of shame on their name, one the Union didn’t know about.

Olyra is done,
Brocke thought.
Come what may, that accursed place needs to be gone from this realm.

Apparently, Cora read more from his silence than Brocke thought he was giving away.

Sighing, she asked, “How much do I want to know?”

“Almost nothing.”

“But that is where we need to go?” Cora asked, her sharp eyes keeping their gaze on him. “And let me guess. It is the place where you didn’t take me before.”

“Yes.”

A long silence set on the room as they both considered the most recent news.

It wasn’t a surprise to Brocke, not exactly. He had just hoped against all reason that Condor would choose another venue for whatever horrible endgame he had in store. But Olyra was the logical choice, the one place where the priest could easily find an audience that agreed with him.

“You’re not going,” Brocke said just when Cora stated, “I will come this time.”

He gave her a hard glare, but she didn’t back down. Brocke knew it was partly because he couldn’t conjure anywhere near the malice he had for his prisoners in Gomor for Cora. But after their initial meeting, Cora wasn’t as intimidated by him as the others were. It was one of the many reasons he loved her.

“I told you before, it’s too dangerous,” Brocke told her, but Cora didn’t let it bother her.

“You also told me there was no safe place for me until Condor was free,” she shot back. “Perhaps going right to the enemy is the last thing he’d assume. Besides, I don’t feel safe alone.”

Despite everything, Brocke felt himself smirk.

“That last one is a lie,” he said.

Cora beamed.

“You know me,” she admitted. “I’m going with you. Who knows what Condor might do to you when I’m not there to watch your back?”

She was clearly trying to make a joke, but Brocke wasn’t in a particularly humorous mood.

“It is not a place for a Terran, Cora,” he said, hating how she jumped at the sound of his voice. “You’re not coming. I will leave you –”

He trailed off. The soft smile on Cora’s face was almost sympathetic.

“Leave me where?” she asked, checking the gun on her belt. “I haven’t known you for a long time yet, Brocke, but I know this for sure. You don’t trust anyone like you trust yourself.”

That was true, unfortunately. Brocke said nothing, pulling Cora into his arms when she came closer to kiss him gently.

“I’ll be fine,” she promised, although they both knew keeping it wasn’t up to her. “I trust you.”

A
s they sped away
from the Citadel, Brocke dearly wished he could have trusted someone. He hated everything about what they were doing, but time was running out.

The bike rushed back to Eborat. Brocke was wearing his new armor, fitting as well as the last one, maybe even better. The warriors who had fitted it for him knew what they were doing, but Brocke had expected nothing less from the chieftain’s men. His swords were sharpened, and the rifle was fully loaded, hastened to the bike.

Behind him, Cora was dressed like a Corgan clerk. There was a slight chance the clan markings of the chieftain would protect her in Olyra, from some of the miscreants at least. But Brocke wasn’t putting his faith in the men and women who dwelt down there. Trying to pass Cora off as a Corgan was practically impossible, even if he’d given her a strong booster to drink to make her eyes glow blue and etched temporary markings on her skin.

He could feel her shaking, clinging to him. Cora was unused to the concoction, but she’d put on a brave face for him and said it felt wonderful to see the world like he did.

Overall, they couldn’t have been a more obvious target if they’d tried. Yet there were no fighters on their trail, not even when nearing Eborat.

It could only mean one thing. Condor was making his move.

Brocke had never been so tempted to throw caution in the wind and simply dive into Olyra, but timing was everything. If there was the slightest of chances that the priestess knew where to find Condor, they had to take it. Olyra was a maze, covering half of Gaiya. Going in blind would get them nowhere fast.

A
s they neared
Ashby’s home, Brocke couldn’t help thinking they were too late. Neither of them had thought Condor was so close to acting, or they wouldn’t have delayed.

Regrets for another day
, Brocke decided.

Still, there was no denying the fact her quarters were unguarded was a bad sign. Brocke exchanged a look with Cora and saw that she was worried too. He gave her a nod, and Cora keyed in the code Ashby had given her.

It worked.

They moved in slowly, on the lookout for any surprises, but it seemed that Ashby wasn’t there. The quarters looked empty, but Brocke didn’t get deterred so easily.

She had to be there, to keep up appearances. So far, they hadn’t exposed her treachery, which meant she was still useful to Condor. And it definitely wasn’t like Condor to throw away a precious tool like that.

Shrinking back into the shadows near the door, Brocke gave Cora another nod. She answered it and stepped further into the rooms, looking around and trying to appear afraid.

“Ashby!” she called. “Ashby, are you here? I need to talk to you. The whole world has gone insane!”

There was no reply.

Brocke kept as still as he possibly could, making no noise, but he couldn’t make his powerful form disappear. Then again, he didn’t need to. All Ashby had to do was give him a hint, but so far, she was doing well.

Corgan priests were masters of disguise, among other things. They knew how to hide themselves from warriors. After all, the priests were the ones who made men like Brocke. Every surgery, implant, and booster was crafted by them.

As such, it would have been no problem for Ashby to hide her smell from his senses, mask her breathing under the normal noises of the city outside.

“Ashby!” Cora called again, her voice closer to despair this time. “I don’t know where to go… You’re the only one I can trust.”

Brocke saw Cora sit down, facing the large window, placing her back to the rooms. He allowed himself a small grin, proud of the risk she was willing to take.

The guardian saw Ashby long before the priestess saw him. Noiselessly, Brocke came closer, masking his footsteps in hers, although Cora didn’t hear either of them. There was a sharp blade in the priestess’ hand and Brocke’s eyes narrowed seeing it.

The fact that Cora’s friend would betray her like that was repulsive to him. If it hadn’t been against his code to kill unarmed enemies, Brocke would have cut her throat right there after she’d spilled the truth. By his standards, the weapon in Ashby’s hands counted for nothing.

The priestess was skilled and cunning, but nothing compared to a warrior.

She raised the blade victoriously, and finally, Cora saw the danger from the reflection in the window. With a scream, she jumped up from her seat and backed away.

Ashby had stopped. She, too, saw the reflection, and Brocke was making no attempt to hide himself from it.

The entire scene in the room was mirrored in the window, so for a moment, Brocke saw himself the way others perceived him. A dark figure half-hidden in shadows with shining blue eyes staring at his prey. Like the avatar of death, he loomed over the priestess’ small form.

The blade dropped from her hand as Ashby realized resistance was futile.

Cora watched wordlessly as the scene unfolded. In front of him, the priestess turned. Her eyes were filled with hatred and fear, plain as day.

“
Guardian
,” Ashby spat.

Brocke allowed himself a small, menacing grin baring his teeth. All color washed away from Ashby’s face.

“I will tell you nothing,” she hissed. “Watcher in the dark.”

“That is what everyone says,” Brocke replied with deadly calm, his voice dropping so low the words were barely audible above the growl, “before I make liars of them all.”