Bonded to the Alien Lord: Sci-fi Alien Invasion Romance (Warriors of the Lathar Book 3)

Bonded to the Alien Lord

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

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About the Author

Copyright

Bonded to the Alien Lord

MINA CARTER

USA TODAY Bestselling Author

Chapter One

Aliens were as weird as humanity. Just when Cat thought she’d gotten the Latharian warriors worked out, they went and surprised her.

She lay on a diagnostic bed in the Healer’s bay aboard the Velu’vias, the flagship captained by Tarrick K’Vass, War Commander of the Latharian Empire and all-round badass.
Her
badass, sexy alien warrior.

He’d claimed her as his when he and his men had captured Earth’s frontier base, Sentinel Five, where she’d been stationed. She’d forgiven him for that, mostly. There were worse things than being the woman of a high-ranking alien hottie. There were also… advantages.

Like being able to help form policy on how the Lathar dealt with their human captives, now that they’d realized humans weren’t like any other species they’d enslaved. For one, they fought back, even when captured. Hunger strikes and passive resistance had confused Tarrick and his men. However, that was nothing compared to the escape and guerrilla warfare battle when a second, nastier group of aliens decided to steal the women Tarrick’s group had captured.

They’d quickly found out that pissed-off human women with military training were more trouble than they were worth.
Way
more trouble. Right now, enemy warriors who survived the combined K’Vass attack/human resistance were cooling their heels in Tarrick’s holding cells. They were currently leaderless and broken after Tarrick killed their leader for daring to lay a hand on Cat.

It had been more than a hand, but she shoved the unpleasant memories aside to focus on the here and now. She’d woken this morning to find Tarrick sitting by the bed, fully clothed, rather than naked and in it with her. Instantly, she’d known from his expression something was wrong. Rather than answer her, he’d made her dress and brought them both here.

She watched the holo-field arc over her body shift and change. Latharian technology was massively more advanced than humanity’s, but the holo-scanner reminded her of an MRI machine, even if it did seem to do…well, just about everything.

The symbols over her head moved down her body and she glanced at Tarrick on another scanner bed next to her. Because of the size difference between their species, she lay in the middle of the bed, but Tarrick, with his massive shoulders and hard, warrior’s physique, dwarfed his.

Laarn, the lead healer aboard the ship, and as she’d learned Tarrick’s twin brother, moved between the beds, studying both fields intensely. Like Tarrick and every other Lathar warrior she’d seen, he was tall and heavily muscled. That he was a doctor, as well, surprised her. Wearing the same leather uniform as the rest, although with a teal sash across his wide chest, he was more ready to go to war than into surgery.

He grunted at whatever the symbols said on the arc above her and turned to Tarrick. The field above her snapped off and she sat up to watch. Tarrick was stripped to the waist and she spent a pleasurable moment checking out her alien’s ripped body. Where the hell had she gotten so lucky? Tarrick had the kind of build she’d only seen on holo-actors and porn-vid stars, and he was all hers to touch, and explore, and lick…

Snapping herself back to reality, she noticed Laarn focused his study on Tarrick’s wrist. Black marks covered the skin, wrapping around his wrist a couple of times. They appeared odd, almost organic, as though vines were buried under the surface.

“What’s that? Did you get a tattoo?” she asked, scooting to the edge of the bed. The designs hadn’t been there last night. She slept like the dead though, so perhaps he’d nipped out to get it done while she’d been asleep.

Both men turned to her, identical frowns on their faces. Even if she hadn’t known they were related, that expression right there would have clued her in.

“A tat-Oo?” Laarn asked, mangling the word. “What’s that?”

Cat blinked as surprise rolled through her and thought back. She hadn’t seen ink on any of the Lathar.

“Uhm, it’s a body modification common among humans. Ink driven under the top layer of skin with needles to create a pattern or design.” She leaned closer. The skin around the marks was red and raised, just like a new tattoo. “The skin heals to leave the design permanently in place.”

“Needles? And humans do that voluntarily?” Tarrick wrinkled his nose in disgust. “How barbaric.”

She chuckled. “Humans have some weird kinks. Tattoos are tame compared to some of the stuff out there.”

Laarn studied her with an intent gaze, as though she’d just revealed something fascinating. Being the center of his attention was a little unsettling. Unlike Tarrick, no emotion softened his expression. It was like being studied under a microscope. “Do you have any?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But many people on the base have them if you wanted to take a closer look. My friend Jess has a large design on her back.”

“Jess?” The big healer tapped out an enquiry on the console at the other side of Tarrick’s bed.

“Jessica Kallson. She’s a traffic control officer, like I am.” A growl rumbled in Tarrick’s throat. She sighed. “Okay, fine. Like I
was.”

“This her?” Laarn turned the screen to reveal an image of a young woman.

Cat nodded. “Yes. That’s Jess. She was on the flight deck the same time as I was. I haven’t seen her since.”

Guilt washed over her. She’d asked Tarrick to make sure her friend was okay, but hadn’t seen her since the attack a few days ago.

“She’s in stateroom three. One of the quiet ones, doesn’t seem to be causing any trouble…” Laarn paused to read. “The preliminary medical scan came back okay. She’s in good health and sustained no injuries in the attack.”

Although she knew from Tarrick that Jess was okay, hearing the healer confirm it made her sigh in relief.

“I’ll bring her in though, do a full check?” Laarn glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow arched.

“Thank you.” She smiled her thanks. He seemed to have accepted her relationship with his brother without a qualm, and the fact that the link was important enough for him to check on her friend made her feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy inside. “So… if you guys don’t have tattoos, what is that?”

They exchanged looks, and once again, she got the feeling there was more going on than they were admitting. Worry hit her, making her stomach churn and she slid off the bed to stand next to Tarrick. He kept trying to sit up, but Laarn reached out and shoved him down, none too gently.

After the third time, Tarrick blew out a breath. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? He rarely gets to shove me around anymore,” he commented to Cat.

“Yeah, right. Just every time we spar. For a war commander, you’re like a lumbering
Karatan.”
Laarn snorted, his green eyes sparkling with humor. “What my baby brother isn’t telling you is that if I hadn’t taken my healer’s sash, I’d be the one running the ship, not him.”

“Really? Is that how it works with you guys?” She smiled encouragingly, hoping they’d keep talking. Although they were over the first hurdle and the Lathar warriors were considering human women as more than mere possessions, the more she knew about their culture the better. No unpleasant surprises that way.

This time Tarrick spoke, laying still as Laarn scanned his wrist. “It’s based on skill and ability. Laarn and I have been training since we could walk and because we’re
Litaan
as well as siblings—”

“Litaan? That’s your word for twins?”

He nodded. “Same height, same build, same abilities. It’s down to performance on the day. And it
doesn’t
mean Laarn would be running the ship. He decided to welch on facing me and wimped out to take his healer’s trials.”

“Trials? What…like exams?”

Laarn frowned, leaning forward to study the symbols on the holo-field as he answered. “Physical ones, yes.”

“Ahh, yes. Our medical students have to do similar exams before they qualify. Simulations of operations and procedures, right?”

Laarn’s hair danced on his leather-covered shoulders as he shook his head. His voice was flat and unemotional without the snarky tone she was used to hearing. “Not quite, no. All healers must experience every ailment and injury. The pain, the sensation, everything. Depending on how much they can handle…that will be the level of healer they become, then they’re trained to that level.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped in surprise. “But…that’s…They do…They hurt you? So you can become a healer? Fuck no,
that’s
barbaric!”

Tarrick chuckled and motioned at the bed around him. “The trials are simulated. Fool the brain the injuries are real.”

“Oh, I see.” She went quiet, feeling a little foolish.

Of course, they wouldn’t intentionally injure their own people just to see what kind of doctors they’d make. Then Laarn lifted his head and she caught a glimpse of his unguarded expression before the mask slid back into place, and her heart lurched. Pain lurked in the back of his eyes and she knew at that moment the suffering he’d gone through to become a healer was beyond most people’s understanding.

“But Laarn made it through.” Tarrick’s voice rang with pride. “He’s not only a healer, but the highest qualified healer in the Empire. He
should
be Lord Healer and control the Healer’s Hall, but he opted to travel for a quadrasec instead. He’s an asshole.”

“Better than being a dickhead warrior.”

Cat sighed and shook her head as the brothers’ conversation devolved into insults and name-calling. Men, the same no matter what galaxy, obviously.

“Okay, so these marks…” She drew their attention back to the matter at hand. “Just so you know, all base staff are routinely checked for STDs, so if he’s got something nasty, it didn’t come from me.” She shrugged when they both looked at her in surprise. “Just putting it out there.”

“No. Not that.” Laarn frowned. “Your people get infections from sex? That’s…”

“Barbaric?” she guessed. It seemed to be Laarn’s favorite word when it came to humans.

“No. It’s a simple genetic fix though. So simple even a child could do it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Speaking as one of the ‘children’ present, we have a saying. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Our doctors don’t mess at the genetic level in case they make things worse.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Finally, Laarn snapped off the holo-field over Tarrick and leaned against the empty bed behind him, folding his arms over his chest.

His expression was neutral. That special blank expression doctors got when they were about to say something awful. Another similarity with humans. Ironic. Humanity had spent so long being scared of the possibility of little green men. Who would have guessed the aliens would be so similar on so many levels?

“I have good news and bad news.”

Uh-oh, here it came. Mentally, she braced herself. At the same time, she employed logic. Surely with their massively more advanced technology, the Lathar could fix most things, right?

“The good news is these are exactly what I thought.” He pointed to the marks wrapped around Tarrick’s wrist. “Somehow, unbelievably, humans are genetically compatible with the Lathar. Not only that, but I think they might be an offshoot. I’d need to run tests at the Healer’s Hall to be sure.”

Her world lurched sideways and Cat gaped at the healer. “We’re Lathar? Not human?”

His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Honestly, I can’t tell at the moment, but it’s a good possibility. There are too many similarities to be naturally occurring. To be sure I need to run deep level genetic scans and check all the markers.”

He flicked a glance down at her stomach. “A quicker way to tell would be if you’d already fallen pregnant, but I checked and you haven’t.”

Huh. She hadn’t even considered a baby, not with what Tarrick told her about his species’ reproduction problems. “That could happen?”

“Possibly, yes.”

Shit.

“And the bad news?”

Laarn smiled. “They’re mating marks, so you’re stuck with my idiot brother. You’re…what do you humans call it? Married.”

***

Tarrick hated waiting. For anything. He particularly hated waiting on the Emperor while stuck in a non-combat bot. Actually, he just hated the non-combat bots. A little under his natural height, with none of the on-board weaponry or improvements of his own custom-built combat machine, it was restrictive and cramped.

Worse yet, he was surrounded by courtiers as they all waited for the Emperor to emerge from his bed-chamber. They reclined on low padded couches, talking in soft voices. Tarrick used the machine’s central eye to study them without them being aware, not that they’d bothered much with the bot anyway. He’d deliberately picked up a standard palace model rather than one which would show his family affiliation and rank, so their sycophantic tendencies hadn’t been triggered. If they knew who he was in the metal shell, they’d have been all over him like a bad rash. The sister-son of the Emperor, he was considered part of the Imperial family. One reason he preferred to be incognito here.