Conquered by the Alien Warrior Read online

  Conquered by the Alien Warrior

  Hope Hart

  Copyright © 2020 by Bingeable Books LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The Arcav Alien Invasion Series

  The Arcav King's Mate

  The Arcav Commander's Human

  The Arcav General's Woman

  The Arcav Prince's Captive

  A Very Arcav Christmas

  The Arcav Captain's Queen

  The Arcav Guard's Female

  The Warriors of Agron Series

  Taken by the Alien Warrior

  Claimed by the Alien Warrior

  Saved by the Alien Warrior

  Seduced by the Alien Warrior

  Protected by the Alien Warrior

  Captured by the Alien Warrior

  Rescued by the Alien Warrior

  Enticed by the Alien Warrior

  Conquered by the Alien Warrior

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Also by Hope Hart

  Chapter One

  Sarissa

  I creep along the castle halls, my footsteps light and exceedingly careful. I pause, breathe, and strain my ears.

  No sign of movement. Still quiet. This castle is different in the dead of the night. Torches are lit at intervals along each corridor, their flames dancing as I pass. But the obsidian stone seems to suck up all that light, spitting it back out through the thin, gleaming silver veins cutting through the stone.

  Beneath my dress, I’m wearing sturdy boots—broken in by hours of walking through the castle, the town nearby, and the marketplace. Those hours of walking and talking were worth it—giving me the contacts I need to sneak out of here and back to Rakiz’s camp.

  I take one more step, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  Suddenly, I’m back at the Farm after being recruited by the CIA, listening to my favorite instructor.

  I freeze.

  Your intuition exists for one reason and one reason only: to keep you alive. If you don’t listen to it, you’re ignoring a God-given gift.

  I glance around. Still quiet. Deathly quiet. Too quiet.

  Damn it.

  I can’t just stand here and wait. The attack against Vivian and Arix proved there are people in this castle that can’t be trusted.

  Sure, those traitors might be dead. But betrayal begins as a seed of bitterness and is watered by fury. Who knows who else might still have a bone to pick with the king—and his guests?

  The corridors in this wing of the castle are like a rabbit warren, with little rhyme or reason. And yet from what I know about Arix, everything he does has a reason. My guess is these corridors are designed to confuse anyone who shouldn’t necessarily be walking in this part of the castle.

  I grind my teeth and walk faster. Two more intersections to go, and then I take a right. From there, I just need to jog down several flights of stairs in the servants’ quarters, and I’m—

  Slam.

  Something comes out of the darkness, looming in my peripheral vision. I duck, automatically twisting, but it keeps coming. I blink, and my breath leaves me in a whoosh as I’m shoved against the stone wall, inches from a flickering torch.

  The light from that torch spills over the commander’s face, and I curse.

  He smiles at me, but there’s no amusement in that smile. It simply amplifies the sharp planes of his face. The flames reflect back at me from his silver eyes, making him look like a demon who’s come to drag me down to hell.

  I squirm and writhe, but he’s using his weight to hold me in place against the stone, his huge body like a slab of concrete against me.

  Why do these Braxian men have to be so damn big?

  I scowl up at him, and his smile widens. Trust him to gloat once he has me pinned.

  “What do you want?” I hiss, careful to keep my voice quiet. The last thing I need is to wake up my cousin.

  “Funny thing about human females,” he says, ignoring my question. “No matter how quiet you think you are, your movements sound like thunder to my ears.”

  I scoff. He’s lying. I’m great at being sneaky. He’s definitely lying.

  For sure lying.

  Focus, Sarissa.

  I bare my teeth at him. “And why would you care?”

  “Because my king has charged me with making sure you don’t get killed traveling back to your tribe without me.”

  I’d love to punch the smug look off his face, but it’d make too much noise. In one sentence—and with that tone—he’s told me that a) both he and the king think I’d be killed if I traveled alone and b) I belong elsewhere and I’m sure as hell not welcome here.

  It pisses me off.

  “Well,” I say sweetly, “it’s not like Arix’s little lapdog can think for himself, hmm?”

  I don’t think he knows what a lapdog is, but from his expression, the translator in his ear has given him a pretty good idea. All hints of amusement leave his face. And then he smiles again, and the gleam of his teeth in the dark makes me shiver.

  It’s probably not a good idea to piss off the Braxian commander, but I can’t seem to help myself.

  “I was told to make sure you don’t leave alone, since you seem to have problems controlling your impulses. Our enemies have been spotted in many places between this castle and Rakiz’s camp, and yet you believe you can go alone?”

  He curls his lip at me, and I push against his chest, but he’s not budging.

  “You asshole. This castle is a shitshow. Your enemies almost killed the king and my cousin. Why would I trust any of your guards to go with me when they can’t even be trusted not to attempt to murder their monarch?”

  Korzyn’s face goes blank, and I fight back a smile. Score. As commander of Arix’s army and the man tasked with keeping the king alive, it must burn that so many people so close to the king ended up being dirty.

  To be fair, Korzyn and Arix knew about most of the traitors, and they were playing a long game, drawing out anyone who would betray them so they could solve the problem in one swoop. Unfortunately, their schemes almost cost my cousin her life, and while she may have moved on, to me that’s an unforgivable offense.

  “We’ve solved that problem,” Korzyn grits out.

  I tilt my head. “Have you?” I smirk, just because I know it pisses him off. “Have you really?”

  He’s silent, and I almost cheer as his jaw tightens.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have time to hang around here and chat. My contact is waiting for me to get on his boat.

  “Look, Korzyn, I don’t want to argue with you. I need to get the control chip back to Alexis so she can start working on that ship and we can get off this planet. Unfortunately, I can’t trust your guards not to be working with the Dokhalls, and if they get the chip, they’ll either attempt to take the ship by force or destroy the chip out of spite.”

  His face looks like it’s carve
d out of granite. “I don’t care.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t care who you trust. I’ve made a deal with Arix, and that deal includes protecting your worthless life.”

  I roll my eyes. “Not if I can help it.”

  He grins, and this time he looks genuinely amused. I attempt to ignore what it does to me to see the hard lines of his face relax, those eyes lightening.

  “You can’t.”

  I frown, but suddenly I’m spinning in place, Korzyn’s hands expertly twirling me until I’m facing the wall. I slam my head back, and he curses as I make contact with his face.

  The scuffle is as quick as it is brutal. Within seconds, he has my hands caught in one of his, and he’s deftly tying them behind my back.

  I briefly consider screaming. If Vivian saw the commander manhandling me this way, she’d lose her shit. All it would take is one of Vivian’s wide-eyed glances at Arix, and he’d order Korzyn to let me go.

  Unfortunately, my pride doesn’t allow it. I’m trained. I’d bet on myself against almost anyone in a fight. But I let myself be trapped against this wall and distracted, allowing Korzyn to get into the perfect position to pin me.

  I fight to keep my voice steady. “I’ll kill you for this.”

  Korzyn laughs, his voice low and muffled. I’m guessing he doesn’t want to risk waking up my cousin and her sugar woogams either.

  “You can try.”

  The words are wet, and despite myself, I grin.

  “Nose a little sore, Korzyn?”

  He leans forward and wipes his face against my cheek.

  “Ew!”

  His blood is warm, and I struggle instinctively, but it’s too late. My wrists are bound.

  Maybe I should just suck it up and scream. I’ll collect the tattered remains of my ego later. I open my mouth only to choke as Korzyn takes the opportunity to shove a piece of material into my mouth, his hands quick as he ties it.

  I slam my head back again, but he’s not falling for that move twice. I’ll have one hell of a bruise on the back of my head already, and he now knows I’ll happily ring my own bell if I have to.

  He throws me over his shoulder, ignoring my “oof” as his hard muscle digs into my belly. I shift in an attempt to knee him, but he clamps his arm around my legs. Then the bastard slaps me on the ass with a laugh and saunters down the hall.

  My eye begins to twitch. I’m about to explode from either rage or sheer mortification.

  Korzyn’s quarters aren’t far from mine. I should’ve known the commander would stay close. After all, he’s made sure to follow me around since the moment I got here.

  Thankfully, there are no guards outside Korzyn’s door. Obviously, he’s decided he doesn’t need them. Or maybe he doesn’t trust them. Either way, I’m saved from the humiliation that would occur if anyone else witnessed this nightmare.

  Korzyn throws me onto his bed, and I wiggle until I’m on my back, staring up at him. He looks very pleased with himself, and there’s something dark in his eyes as he scans me, lingering on the gag in my mouth.

  “I think I prefer you like this,” he says, and I glare at him so hard I’m surprised his head doesn’t explode from my fury alone. “Now. Let’s discuss what’s going to happen next.”

  Korzyn

  When I first learned how to grip a sword, I was young. So young I could barely lift it. My trainer had little patience and less empathy, and I was expected to swing that sword for hours each day.

  My hands suffered. A particularly nasty blister formed on my palm beneath my thumb. Each day after training, I would bandage it, and it would begin the healing process only to pop open the next day. Eventually, it grew so large I had to hold my sword with my nondominant hand.

  Years later, when I spoke to my trainer, I asked him why he wouldn’t allow us to see the healers, who had balms that would have taken the pain from our blisters.

  He laughed. “Would you have learned to swing your sword this skillfully with your left hand if your right did not pain you so?”

  I glowered at him and stalked away, furious at his answer.

  That blister plagued me, making it impossible to use my hand. Each time it got close to healing, I would be told to pick up my sword, bursting the protective layer and producing teeth-clenching pain. Eventually, the wound became infected, and my trainer had to relent and allow the healers to treat it.

  The scar is now thick—a reminder that with every wound comes a healing. A hardening.

  The female currently tied up on my bed reminds me of that blister.

  Each time I see her, my protective layers burst and my jaw aches from clenching my teeth.

  She is a stone in my shoe.

  She glowers at me, and I allow myself a few moments to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing her tied up and helpless before me.

  I’m not a spiteful male. I perform my duties, protect my king, and train with my men.

  But I can’t ignore the gratification I feel at seeing this vindictive female at my mercy.

  It makes something tighten in my stomach, and I run my gaze over her, from her flushed face, to the pale skin above her dark-gray dress, to the worn boots on her feet.

  She makes a strangled sound, beating those feet against my bed, and I laugh.

  From the look on her face, she’s planning my murder.

  A spark of interest ignites before I can dampen it. It has been many years since I was concerned with anything other than protecting Arix from the numerous attempts on his life.

  “Let me tell you what will happen now,” I say, and Sarissa narrows her eyes at me. They’re the strangest color—neither green nor blue but somehow both at once.

  “You will sleep in here, as you can’t be trusted not to attempt to sneak out of this castle and I need to rest before our journey.”

  Her eyes flash at me, and I can’t help but grin. I haven’t felt this light for days.

  “That’s correct. I’m going with you. We leave at dawn, so I suggest you get some sleep.”

  She gives me a look so scathing that if I were a lesser male, I would wither under it.

  “If you agree not to scream, I will remove your gag. Not that anyone would come for you, but it’s time for me to rest.”

  She nods, and I lean forward. Her legs tremble, her feet twitching as if she is fighting the impulse to kick me in the head, and I almost smile. This female is not stupid. If she knocks me out, she will be stuck in this room, gagged and bound, until I awake. And then I will be furious.

  “Look,” she says when I untie the gag, “why don’t you just tell Arix you went to get me but I’d already escaped?”

  Her tone is cajoling, as if she’s attempting to reason with me, and I almost laugh.

  Instead, I slowly shake my head. “No. I have made a deal with Arix. If I take you back to Rakiz’s camp, he’ll give me something I very much want.”

  Her eyes sharpen with interest. “And what do you want?”

  “That doesn’t concern you.”

  Her lips thin, and her ire makes my shoulders lighten with amusement.

  “I can’t sleep like this,” she says.

  “Too bad.”

  “Korzyn. My hands will be damaged if I sleep with them like this. This rope is cutting off my circulation.”

  I’m not an idiot. She’s hoping I will free her and she will somehow escape. However, Vivian will be upset if her cousin is damaged, and when Vivian is upset, Arix is enraged.

  “Roll onto your side.”

  She thinks about it for a moment but finally complies. Her tiny feet shift, likely as she again debates whether to kick me, and I feel the strangest urge to…laugh.

  She huffs out a breath as she turns over, and I take another long piece of material, tying it around her right wrist.

  “Make a fist.”

  She does, letting out a snort when I loosen it slightly.

  “Have a lot of experience tying up women, baby?” The human endearment is heavy with sa
rcasm, and I grit my teeth.

  “If there was ever a female who deserved to be tied to a male’s bed, it’s you.”

  She lets out a strangled noise, and I push her onto her front, enjoying her muffled growl. I tie the other end of her new tether to my bedpost before removing the cloth tying her hands together. Since I’m a merciful male, I allow her to have one hand free so she can sleep easier.

  I withdraw as she flips onto her back. She glances up at where the material is attached to my bed and again rolls her eyes.

  I study her face. She seems entirely too calm.

  “Where are your weapons?” I ask.

  “Hmm?”

  From the lift of her eyebrow, she’s attempting to pretend indifference. That means the female probably has at least one knife hidden somewhere. A knife she would likely use to free herself before castrating me in retaliation.

  I smile. “You know, the guards are still talking about the way your cousin killed Bevix. A poisoned dagger. Brutal yet elegant. Not only did she get the poison in his bloodstream, but Arix said the way she threw that knife at his throat was a thing of beauty.”

  Pride flashes in Sarissa’s eyes. “Vivian has always had exceptionally good aim.”

  My smile widens. “You know what I found most interesting about that?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “No one knew she had a knife. Otherwise, our enemies would have taken it from her.”

  From the rage burning in the hellion’s eyes, she knows exactly what’s going to happen next. She lets out a shriek, and when I push up her dress, this time she does kick out.

  I freeze. Her thighs are pale, toned, and ridiculously smooth. But from her knees down, long scars trail across her shins, onto the tops of her feet.

  “What happened here?” The long white scars wind around her legs like ropes. A small part of me pities her. The pain must have been excruciating.