Alien General's Bride: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (9 page)

Isolde was staring up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“I was sleeping,” she began, the sound of that beautiful voice shaking making Diego’s blood boil. “I woke up and there he was. I didn’t even have time to scream, but then there was this guy who came flying out of nowhere, and he knocked him off of me and…”

She pointed to the floor. Diego found no words. He himself had given Ensha access to her room, in case of an emergency, so he wouldn’t have to wait for her to open the door. So he could help her. The gods must have been kind to him, for Ensha to leave the door open behind him, or Isolde would have been trapped.

Unable to find the words to assure her she was safe – mostly because he didn’t believe she was – he simply walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. Isolde flung her arms around him, her warm tears falling on his skin. He had never felt such a need to keep someone safe. This was what a
gesha
was. Something to fight for. His and his alone, and he would protect her from anything the galaxy could throw at them.

That something made itself known, as he had thought it would. The device, seemingly intent to ruin his life on that particular day, beeped again. It was the bridge, reporting with complete calm, “Commander, the
Unbroken
and the
Fearless
are en route to us. Most likely with orders to kill the human and take you into custody. If possible.”

Diego smiled. His fellow generals had named their ships in response to the
Triumphant
. They would soon have those boasts crammed down their throats, if they thought to challenge him.

With Isolde in his arms, he patiently waited to hear death come knocking. And then he would slam the door in its face. It was the Brion way.
 

CHAPTER TEN

Isolde

 

Isolde Fenner – Terran by birth, researcher by choice, the first human
gesha
by some great galactic joke she didn’t get – sat on her bed on an alien spaceship and pondered her life choices.

Sanity had packed its bags and left her alone some time ago, and now she was battling rationality and reason, coaxing them to stick around. Saying that her life had taken some bizarre turns in the last 24 hours would be the understatement of the century. Frankly, she was not amused.

At least they had cleared away the corpse at the foot of her bed and cleaned up. That had really improved her mood, although of course she would have preferred not to have a spear-wielding maniac try to kill her for no reason she could fathom in the first place. Apparently not every Brion was OK with a human
gesha
. In that sense, she was almost grateful for the absurdity of it all – buried in the overall mess of her life right now, Isolde felt she could better deal with the fact someone had just gotten killed before her very eyes.

Still. The unease refused to go away and she didn’t want to be alone. Funny how Grothan became less and less threatening to her as the number of her enemies seemed to grow.
Enemies
. Isolde would have rolled her eyes if she hadn’t been so terrified. Why did she have enemies? With self-deprecating humor she didn’t know she had, she thought they’d chosen the least interesting person in the galaxy to attack.

Well, not really. Isolde Fenner was now a rarity, and the moment this got out, she would be something of an intergalactic celebrity – the first human
gesha
. The first non-Brion
gesha
, in fact.

Something, which had become – impossibly, it seemed to her – more complicated than it had been to begin with. Her mind still kept saying no and giving her lectures about good girls not running off with weird and
very hot
aliens, and pointing to the fact that the courting period had been somewhat short. Her body, however, along with her mouth had said yes very loudly, and Isolde honestly felt a bit at a disadvantage.

The point was she needed sleep, but her last wake-up call having been of the unpleasant sort, she didn’t dare to. The general had his hands full with the incoming threats, so guarding her was out of the question – oh yes, sleep was bound to come easy, it wasn’t like she was about to find herself in the middle of a space battle, and she felt so weary she could barely keep her eyes open. Trust was running a bit low aboard the
Triumphant
, and Isolde watched with a sinking feeling in her gut as the general’s mouth drew into a hard line when she pointed out her last guards hadn’t exactly been up to their task, so to speak.

She wondered how he felt about that. Brions… they didn’t fight too much in-between themselves? At least she thought so. In her research, everything pointed to it being sort of complicated. She would have to ask at a more convenient time. Right now, what mattered to her most was that when she looked into his eyes, she saw the truth of his unshakeable need to protect her. It calmed her somewhat, but not completely.

“Can’t you, um, lock the door so no one will get in?” Isolde offered.
But you
, she added in her mind.
For some alone time
, added her body. Her mind filled with pleasant images, quickly driven away by not-so-pleasant ones about unseen assassins in her room.

Grothan shook his head. “I will, but it is not enough. A skilled warrior would have no problem disabling the system or accessing the room in some other way.”

He spoke with such pride Isolde thought better of telling him that while it was sort of cute how proud he was, it meant the ship was packed with possible murderers.

Not telling him didn’t seem to do much good, since he took her in his arms again –
Mmm… she could get used to being there, stupid Terran modesty could go and hang…
– and spoke with such certainty she was left with no choice but to believe him.

“Isolde,” the general said, “I understand this must be scary to you. But trust me, you will never again be in such danger. Ensha was perfectly capable, which is why I picked him. But he was also a traitor – to me and to all Brions. I will not entrust you with someone like that again. The warriors who guard you now will be ones I would trust to hold a blade to my own throat. They will let no one past them. I swear it.”

Isolde could only nod, her breath caught in her throat. The general was so close, holding her with surprising gentleness against his broad chest. The valor squares gleamed in response to his blood being up, but even they couldn’t match the brightness of his eyes.

She could admit it. She was completely, hopelessly lost in those eyes that made her hang on his every word and trust him with her life. Brions did not give oaths easily, thinking them too important to simply blurt out. And she had already received several from him. No, this was real. For all the good and bad it might bring, Grothan held nothing back with her.
His and his alone
, Isolde thought. It felt absurdly good to feel so treasured. She nodded again, to make sure he understood she trusted him.

Grothan kissed her in response, strong and fierce, hands in her hair, pulling her even closer. It felt amazing, and for once no part of Isolde wanted to pull away, her fists clenching the front of his jacket, a moan escaping her lips…

To be interrupted by her door beeping. Why did
everything
on that bloody ship keep beeping? Her grunt of irritation must have been audible, since Grothan rounded on the door so quickly she nearly lost her balance as he released her from his grip. She was about to call out to save the life of whoever came ringing at the wrong time, again –
sigh –
when the general relaxed visibly, all anger drained from him, and authorized the entrance.

Isolde came face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Oh gods almighty, don’t let this be the Ex…

That first reaction passed through her mind like a flash of lightning, nearly making it to her lips, but this time common sense and not a small amount of womanly pride won out. Then her studies started to come back as well – the Brions didn’t
do
exes. They had good companions and what could only be described as fuck-buddies, not that Isolde would ever be heard voicing that, but not exes as such. The Brions didn’t form emotional commitments between sexes in that sense with anyone else but their fated mates. Still. The ice cold flash of jealousy refused to go away as Isolde sized up her new guard.

Years and years of bad dates came rushing back. She wasn’t comparable to the new woman at all. Where Isolde was all curves and fluffiness, the warrior woman before her was lean and slim. Her eyes were blue like Grothan’s, although a softer, lighter shade. That was also the only thing soft about her. Immediately after entering, she saluted fist over her heart to Grothan and stood to stiff attention. She hadn’t moved since, despite the lingering silence and the enormous Brion battle spear on her back that Isolde couldn’t have lifted to save her life. Out of the corner of her eye, Isolde was sure she saw the most guarded smirk on Grothan’s lips.

You evil bastard, you…

“Isolde,” Grothan said – with a yet unidentified sense even alien men apparently had, which gave them a microsecond to save their butts – “these are your guards.”

Oh, yes
. There was another Brion in the room, but Isolde had barely registered his presence, what with the spear-wielding Playmate of the Year and all.

“This is Deliya,” Grothan went on, prompting the female warrior to give Isolde a curt, but polite nod of the head – one woman to another, if only Isolde hadn’t felt they were on the opposite ends of every scale imaginable. “She is one of my best warriors, my lifelong companion, who I would trust with my own life.”

There was no mistaking the way the warrior woman held her head up higher with every word out of Grothan’s mouth.
His sexy, devilish mouth that should only kiss my lips.

So caught up in her jealous streak, Isolde barely noticed the general suddenly standing very close to her. His valor squares beamed as he spoke, every word bouncing off the walls as his tone dropped low. “More importantly, I would trust her with yours.”

More importantly.
The words kept resonating in Isolde’s mind as it took her several attempts to rip her eyes from Grothan’s and sneak a glance at the warriors. The woman didn’t look upset in any way. If possible, she looked even prouder than before. Perhaps Isolde was overreacting.

Perhaps
, a part of her still intent not to become the alien bride thought,
you shouldn’t get so damn possessive of a Brion warlord and focus more on getting out of this mess.

Isolde wasn’t sure if that part of her fully grasped how deeply she was in this mess, wondering when it would catch up to the fact she had given in a while ago and was now in the due process of trying to justify that to the only person who at that point still objected – herself.

Grothan pointed to the other warrior, who for some reason seemed familiar to Isolde. “And this is Narath.”

The face finally registered. “You’re the one who saved my life,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

The Brion nodded. “I am glad to have been able to serve the Commander,” he replied. His voice was so deep Isolde could barely make out the words, but somehow they put her at ease. Where Grothan’s voice excited her, brought her every sense live, Narath’s voice seemed to match his presence. He was the strong, silent type. Isolde had to admit that she felt better about her circumstances than she had before.

“That was far beyond service,” Grothan almost growled at him. “You came to save my
gesha
. I do not forget this.”

Now Narath looked like Christmas had come early. The warriors hung on his every word, Isolde noticed, and no wonder, she couldn’t help but do the same herself.

Grothan sent them both to their posts, staying behind to kiss her once more. No beeping came to bother them this time, but the world that insisted on revolving around them would not be kept waiting. The general pulled away, holding Isolde’s face in his strong hands, with gentleness she hadn’t thought he could show.

“Sleep,” he said. “I will deal with my brother generals.”

The sense of peace she had had for a moment was banished in an instant. “They are coming to kill you. Because of me,” she whispered.

Grothan’s valor squares flashed to life, filling the room with an otherworldly glow. It literally became the reflection of his will to fight, and win.

“They will try,” he said.

“What if they…” Isolde began.

Grothan shook his head, a vicious snarl pulling back his lips, reminding Isolde in one swift moment she was still in the presence of a killer.

“I’ve had many enemies in my life,” Diego Grothan said. “They are nothing but grief to their mothers now.”

Fear should have kept Isolde awake, but sheer exhaustion won out. Her last conscious thought was of his eyes when he’d sworn he would keep her safe. Then, after what was surely a lifetime worth of experience crammed into a single day, she finally got to sleep.
 

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