Claiming Her Alien Warrior: Sci-fi Alien Invasion Romance (Warriors of the Lathar Book 4)

  Table of Contents

  Claiming her Alien Warrior

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE...

  About the Author

  Claiming her Alien Warrior

  Warriors of the Lathar: Karryl

  MINA CARTER

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Copyright

  Copyright 2015 Mina Carter

  Cover Art by Mina Carter

  Edited by Tina Winograd

  Published by Blue Hedgehog Press: Sept 2015.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Author's note: All sexually active characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older

  SIGN UP FOR MINA CARTER’S NEWSLETTER FOR THE LATEST NEWS!

  http://mina-carter.com/newsletter/

  Chapter One

  Little green men weren’t so little.

  Or green.

  A member of the Terran Military Defense Force all her life, Major Jane Allen had expected to be involved in a first contact situation at some point. She hadn’t, however, expected the Lathar. Somehow, she doubted that anyone expected the Lathar.

  They were less little green men and more large, ripped, scarily-attractive alpha male warriors hot enough to make any red-blooded woman weak at the knees. Even one mid-divorcee, who sworn off men, of any species, for life, like her. She had to admit, they were nice to look at. Considering she was a guest on the Latharian home world, it was a good thing she found them appealing.

  “No, Your Majesty. One, two, three…one, two, three…that’s it. Perfect.”

  Jane looked across the room. Kenna, formerly a Marine under her command, and now one of the four women visiting the Latharian home world, was teaching the emperor, Daaynal, how to waltz. Jane’s lips twisted into a small smile.

  Like most of the Lathar, Daaynal wore leather armor and heavy combat boots. With the warrior’s braids in his long hair, and a face that could have coined the phrase “wickedly handsome” he made an odd sight with Kenna in his arms. Especially as she wore the flowing skirts traditional for Latharian women but with a blaster strapped to her waist.

  She and Kenna were living proof you could take the girl out of the Marines, but never the marine out of the girl.

  Daaynal was a quick study, his hold and steps perfect within minutes to spin and twirl Kenna around the room. A large room, it was part of the emperor’s personal chambers and grandly decorated. Jane lay on a luxurious couch, full after the excellent food at lunch and watched the dance lesson.

  Daaynal, she’d decided within minutes of meeting him, was a delight. Handsome, charming…and ruthless. No one kept such a high position in a warrior society where assassination was a viable promotional tactic unless they would do whatever it took to stay there.

  He might have Kenna and Cat enthralled, but Jane had seen enough of his type during her long career to have her head turned by a pretty face and hot body. As if to prove her point, Daaynal caught her looking at him as they turned in front of her couch and winked.

  She grinned and winked back. He knew what she knew about him and didn’t care. He also thought he had her worked out.

  Oh no, handsome. We’re just getting started.

  Talking of good-looking faces, it was almost time for her comm call with her liaison at Terran Command. The highlight of her day. Not. Myles Fuller was not her favorite person. He was too cookie-cutter career track officer for her liking. One who had his eye on a political career and using military service to pad his resume. A service record always looked good on the campaign trail. Plus he had a father with enough brass on his collar to make sure little Myles was in no danger of ever setting foot on a battlefield.

  Good. Because he was the sort of rich, entitled asshole playing soldiers she fucking hated. The sort who’d hole up safe in their offices during the colony wars while real soldiers did the dying. Soldiers like her brother, who’d never returned.

  Sighing, she levered herself off the couch.

  “With your permission, Your Majesty, I have a prior appointment to attend to.”

  “Of course, of course!” Daaynal replied as he and Kenna breezed past. “I look forward to the pleasure of your company at the banquet this evening.”

  Ugh, more food. She doubted she’d be able to eat another thing this week, but she bowed anyway and backed out the door.

  Her boots rang out against the polished floor of the corridor as she headed toward her quarters. As honored guests, the human women had suites near the emperor’s rooms. Security into the wing was high, as it should be after the purist attack at Cat and Tarrick’s wedding. No one knew when and where they’d strike again, but Daaynal was taking no chances with the human women. Jane approved. One thing she’d learned about fanatics during her long career was they were unbalanced as hell and never, ever, gave up.

  She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. A close-cropped blond pixie cut, it fascinated the servants. She’d stopped them putting flowers and jewels in it. They’d finally realized she took them out within minutes anyway.

  The palace reminded her of old movies about ancient Rome. It was all white columns and gauze drapes. She half expected a bunch of giggling handmaidens in togas to walk by. Instead, a broad-shouldered figure in leather armor rounded the corner.

  Recognition hit. Karryl K’Vass.

  Suppressing the quiver of awareness deep in her stomach, she kept walking. Karryl was one of the warriors who’d attacked and boarded the base she’d been stationed at, Sentinel Five. Even though she and the rest of the personnel aboard had put up a good fight, superior weaponry had won the day and the Lathar had taken them all prisoner. Not before she’d given them a damn good run for their money though. She and her unit had holed up in the central section of the base and made a right nuisance of themselves to the invaders.

  Then… Karryl had happened.

  She studied the warrior walking toward them. Taller than most Lathar, he was well-muscled with inky-black hair she itched to run her hands through. He had beautiful turquoise and violet eyes that should have looked out of place on such a strong face, but suited him to perfection. His battered leather armor fit him like a second skin, it
s only ornamentation the broad dull-gold sash across his chest. It marked him as something similar to a security officer.

  A security officer with a face like thunder.

  Uh oh.

  He marched up to her, stopping barely a foot from her to loom dangerously. The moment they’d met, the big Lathar had tried to lay claim to her. Tried and failed. Since then he’d tipped between charming in an effort to get her to accept his claim, and frustration when she wouldn’t. From his dark expression, looked like today was the latter.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had a mate?”

  *

  Major Jane Allen, warrioress from Earth, was the bane of Karryl’s life.

  Slender and lithe, she had cropped light hair an almost white color he’d never seen before but it was her eyes that mesmerized and frustrated him in equal measures. Different colors, one blue and one green, they met his gaze head on with a firm expression and steely disposition he’d struggle to find in many warriors.

  He waited for a second and there it was, the slight uplift of her left eyebrow that either showed curiosity, or she thought he was a freaking idiot. He had no idea half the time which it was. Probably both.

  “Why didn’t I tell you I had a mate?” Her voice was low and melodious, with a pleasing timbre that stroked along his senses like a caress. “Perhaps because I don’t?”

  He bit back a sigh of frustration.

  “Your base records say otherwise. They say you are mated to an Admiral Scott Johnson.”

  He almost snarled the words. Fury surged through him at the thought of the slender female in another man’s arms. His woman. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her, crouched behind a makeshift barricade on the base, bellowing orders as she and her men fought the Lathar boarding parties.

  Not expecting women on the human base at first, he’d thought the higher-voiced, slender-figured warrior was a youth. Her face shielded by a cap, her body armor had hidden any hint of her female figure. The battle had raged back and forth. He’d been impressed with the youth’s training and command over his men. It wasn’t until she’d removed the cap he realized his opponent was female. Their gazes met across the battlefield and he’d known. This woman was his, sent by the ancestor gods to be the other half of his soul.

  His own little warrioress.

  He fought the urge to shake his head. That any society with fertile females would send them into battle was incomprehensible to him. Females were to be pampered and protected, cosseted and looked after… Not allowed to put themselves in harm’s way.

  But as much as he tried, Jane resisted all his attempts to pamper or protect her. She seemed to delight in thwarting his efforts to claim her, as though she found them, and him, amusing.

  “They do, do they?” She folded her arms over her chest and the movement pulled the fabric of her tunic tight across her breasts.

  He tried to ignore it, really he did, keeping his eyes level on hers, but the effort cost him. Unlike the other human women, Jane had not adopted the flowing robes of a latharian woman. Instead, she wore an earth top that bared her arms, tucked into a pair of reenaas combat pants, the hardy material conforming to her curves in a way that made his mouth water. Combat boots and a heavy blaster pistol on her hip completed the picture.

  His jaw ached and he half lifted a hand to rub at it as he remembered just how fast she could move, and what one of those boots felt like jammed under his chin.

  “Yes, they do.”

  He folded his arms to match her posture. She was shorter than he was so he had to look down at her to glare, but he wasn’t under any illusion he had the upper hand. Sure, he was bigger and stronger, but she was fast and mean as a liras snake. If she’d been male, she’d have made the perfect warrior.

  Humans didn’t call themselves warriors. They used words like soldier and marine instead. It all amounted to the same. From what he could work out, Jane was a famous warrior on her home planet. The standard to which all female warriors aspired to, probably half the men as well.

  “Well, I guess we still are then.” She shrugged. “At least until I sign the divorce papers. I was going to, but then these asshole aliens blew holes in my base.”

  Her words rocked Karryl. He’d been expecting a denial, some story about records error… that she had never accepted this Admiral Johnson’s claim over her… Not a calm confirmation she was, in fact, mated. Which meant, under the terms of the fledgling agreements between their peoples, she could leave Lathar and return to Earth any time she chose.

  Unlike an unmated woman, she didn’t have to consider any warrior’s claim. Even his.

  For a week she’d dodged his attempts to claim her. He’d made no pretense of his interest. He’d played nice, been polite, tried to understand her culture was different from his... All the time she’d known she could just laugh and walk away.

  “No,” he snarled as rage clouded his mind. “Not his. Mine.”

  Reaching out a hand, he cupped the back of her neck and hauled her up against him. She hit his chest with a gasp, her eyes wide. Good. Finally, he’d surprised her.

  “Karr—”

  He didn’t let her finish, crushing her mouth beneath his. The first taste of her lips almost unmanned him. She might have been forged in the fires of combat, her body all lean lines and toned muscles, but her lips were a different story.

  Soft under his, they were as delicate as a quuarrian fruit. She’d frozen, hands on his broad chest and he braced himself for a hard knee to the groin. She was not a woman to let an assault on her person go unpunished.

  Determined to experience as much as he could before she pushed him away, he moved his lips over hers. Tasting, exploring… needing. Desperate. He needed to remember this. Imprint what it felt like to hold her in his arms, to feel her soft lips under his. Because she would push him away, he knew she would. If she found him suitable as a mate, then she’d have already accepted his claim.

  Her lips parted on a soft moan and offered him a glimpse of the seven heavens. Stunned for a second, he didn’t move, then all his male instincts roared into life. With a growl, he tilted his head and plundered her lips. The warmth and sweetness of her mouth almost brought him to his knees.

  Sliding his tongue against hers, he sought her flavors. The sweet fruits and wine they’d dined on for lunch combined with something else…something haunting and unique. Within a heartbeat he knew one kiss would never be enough. He could kiss her for this lifetime and the next, but it still wouldn't suffice. With one kiss, she’d made him an addict, seeking that next hit until the day he died.

  “No…” She snatched her lips from his with a gasp, looking up at him with wide, dark eyes. For a moment, he saw desire and need before her expression shuttered again. “No. We can’t.”

  “What?” His demand was barked as he gripped her upper arms. She’d surrendered to him, he’d felt it, but now she was saying no?

  She looked away, trying to wriggle free of his hold and her cheeks turned bright pink. Since he’d met her, she’d been captured, held prisoner, fought her way out of an enemy ship and almost killed by purists and never once had he seen her bat an eyelid. But now she looked rattled. By him. By what they’d shared.

  “You prefer women.”

  It was the only explanation that made sense. Her brow furrowed as her gaze snapped to his. “What? Don’t be ridiculous. I was married to a man. I like men plenty enough.”

  “Then what?” he demanded, shaking her a little by her upper arms as his anger got the better of him.

  Her eyes shimmered with something, but the expression disappeared before he could analyze it. “Have you ever thought I might not be into you?”

  *

  Oh crap, she shouldn’t have said that.

  Jane leaned against the door inside her quarters and took a fortifying breath. The stunned, then hurt, then furious look on Karryl’s face when she’d lied and told him she didn’t like him had cut her to the quick. She did like him, way too much for c
omfort. That was the problem.

  Well, no, that wasn’t the real problem. The real issue was she had morals. And she was a spy. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, use Karryl’s feelings against him like that.

  The soft ping-ping-ping of the comm center in the corner of the room called for her attention. She sighed. Time for her scheduled call with Terran Command. She had to report in every day to let them know more about the alien culture she was immersed in.

  What they really wanted to know was how to defeat the Lathar.

  Heart heavy, she walked across the room and slid into the seat in front of the console. A touch on the screen activated it. Myles smiling face filled the screen. She smiled a false smile. If the guy were in the room, she’d break his fucking nose.

  “Greetings, Major Allen. How are we today?” he asked, rubbing his ear. “I hope you and your lovely companions are having a pleasant break on Lathar Prime.”

  His words were in code, a predefined speech pattern and set of phrases all high-level command officers knew by heart for just such instances as these. Translation: Sit-rep.

  “Doing well, thank you, Colonel. And yourself? How’s your lovely wife?” Her words followed the same protocol as she flicked her gaze to the top right corner of the screen. No change. Nothing to report.

  She didn’t have anything past the information she had already given them. As charming as the Lathar were, they were careful to keep guests out of sensitive areas. So far, she hadn’t been able to gather any information on military numbers or weapons capability.

  Myles’s expression darkened for a second. “Oh, I’m afraid she’s not been well…” Information required urgently. Yes, asshole, she knew that. “So she’s taken a short break to my uncle’s cabin near the lake.” Defense perimeter on high alert. “If she doesn’t get better soon though, I’m insisting she go to St. Michaels.”

  Shit. Ever the professional, she kept a straight face at the last line. The Terran defense perimeter, comprised of bases and automated defense satellites, worked on a series of named levels. On a normal day the alert was low, at level George, but it went up through Jeremy, Roxanne (she’d love to know who got that one in) and up to Michael. If the defense net was that high, it meant the president had authorized nukes.