Daegon: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien-Human Military Romance) (8 page)

"Good," was all he said. "I want the traitor's head mounted on a spike."

"Yes, chieftain."

As an afterthought, Nadar asked, "And the Union? Is their representative alive and well?"

"She is," Daegon said, thinking of Zoey, sleeping peacefully in his bed. "And she will be. I want you to know that this doesn't mean I will agree to her offer."

The chieftain smiled and already turning away from the monitor, replied, "I gave you the order to hear her out. I didn't give you the answer."

Z
oey was
wide awake and mad as hell when Daegon returned.

She had no idea how long she'd slept, but judging by the surprised look on the warlord's face, not too long.

"You're already up," he said, disapproval plain in his voice.

"And you're a bastard," Zoey replied.

She immediately regretted that. It was, like, rule number one in "Things You Shouldn't Say To Unpredictable, Temperamental Warlords". But Daegon laughed and his amazing blue eyes shone with amusement.

"You needed rest," he said, walking past her and starting to remove his armor and weapons.

Zoey stared. Not only because she most assuredly wanted to see more of him, but also since the action was so out of place in the world she knew. Corgan warriors and their armors went together. It was like a snake shedding its skin in front of her, but that comparison quickly vanished from her mind when more of Daegon's body was exposed to her hungry gaze.

She had clearly been able to see his powerful form before, but it was somehow even more impressive without the armor. As if the heavy metal plates didn't boost Daegon's considerable bulk but contained it in a hard metal cage. Freed from the unnatural shapes, Zoey was finally able to see what the warlord really looked like.

Forgetting to look away, she stood, ogling shamelessly.

Daegon was wearing a black shirt underneath the armor plates, coupled with trousers of a matching shade. While the pants were loosely fitting, the shirt was pointedly not. Zoey spent a good several seconds trying to figure out how the seams didn't just rip. The cloth was tight over his broad chest and even more so around his biceps, bulging under the shirt.

Zoey's eyes rested on that avatar of manhood until her gaze reached his deep amber eyes and she realized that her interest had been noted.

With a stubbornness to match the Corgans’, she refused to look away. There was nothing wrong with looking. If he was suddenly all modest, he shouldn't have undressed in front of her.

She had completely forgotten what they’d been talking about.

Daegon reminded her, helpfully, "You can go back to sleep," he offered. "The Yemalan mothership seems to have slipped away from us, but we know where it's going. As for now, there is no danger to you. I suggest you rest up before we get to our destination."

That
did
sound good, but Zoey wasn't done with him yet.

"You practically sang me to sleep," she said accusingly. "As far as methods of getting rid of me go, I suppose it was kind of nice. At least you didn't whack me over the head with something. But I want to know what's been going on."

Daegon laughed, looking at her.

"I assure you, I can't sing," the warlord said, bringing a smile to Zoey's lips. "As for you, not much happened during the hour you managed to sleep."

An hour
, Zoey thought, instantly growing more tired.
Damn it, he's right. I could use a good night's sleep. I don't even know how long I was aboard the Yemalan ship. It feels like I haven't rested in days.

"Are you sure nothing will happen while I sleep?" she heard herself ask.

The look in Daegon's eyes changed immediately. Instead of twinkling with glee, he seemed to grow deeply concerned for her.

"Nothing will hurt you," he promised, the deep voice laden with emotion. "I am here. I will not leave."

"Alright," Zoey said, yawning and climbing back on the bed that felt like the softest thing she'd ever seen. "Can you sit with me? I think that's what woke me up, that you were gone."

Without a word, Daegon joined her. He sat against the wall again, cradling her into his arms once more. Snuggling against his body, Zoey pulled the blanket on top of her and nuzzled closer. Without the hard surface under her head and the smell of metal, it felt even nicer than before. She breathed in his strong, musky scent.

Yes. This is good. I can deal with the rest later.

In her drowsy state, Zoey let her fingers brush over his flat, hard stomach.

Out of the armor now, but damn, I would probably hurt myself more if I tried to punch him.

It was her last conscious thought before sliding into a dream about the warlord.

S
he woke
up for the second time in Daegon's bed, dedicating a quick thought to how inappropriate it was and then discarding it in a hurry. It seemed she had more pressing issues.

For example, being very,
very
close to the warlord. Not just cuddled up against him, but a little more. One mortified glance showed that apparently her dreams about him had somewhat carried into reality. Zoey jumped away from him, snatching her hand back from where it had been busy between Daegon's legs.

Looking at the warlord, she saw a wide grin on his face. And a deep, fiery lust burning in his eyes – one that she wanted to see more of.

Cheeky bastard
, she thought.

"Sorry," she muttered. "That was so... I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know," the warlord said and Zoey could hear the tense edge in his voice. "But I can't say I'm complaining."

"You could have moved, you know," she pointed out, but Daegon's grin only got wider.

"Yes," the warlord said, and the timbre of his deep voice sent a pleasant tingling through Zoey's body. "You will forgive me. I found your touch much harder to fight off than any enemy I've ever faced. As you can see, I ultimately failed."

Zoey's heart was pounding fast, listening to his words. Things that were most definitely not going to make it into her official report of the negotiation kept piling up.

She tried very hard not to look at his erection, nor think about how hard and long his cock had felt under her palm. If her quick mental calculations were correct, Daegon was nothing short of huge, in the best way possible. She nearly licked her lips, thinking of how it would feel to be fucked by him. She backed away from him even more when her pussy became wet from the images that were freely flooding her mind's eye.

Zoey hoped to all the gods in the galaxy that the Corgans didn't have an instinct to alert them about a woman's arousal. The ones who called them gene stealers had many interesting theories about what they could do.

Mara James had sent a long letter to the Union about the matter, asking if their mothers never taught them not to believe everything they were told. Zoey hoped she was right about that.

Daegon watched her go with the same devilishly sexy grin as before. He shrugged, standing up with a theatrical sigh.

"Don't worry," he said. "I will not lay a hand upon you against your wish. But I
will
go and take a very cold shower now."

Zoey smiled a little, watching him walk away. When he ripped off his shirt and she was graced with the sight of his broad, muscled back, Zoey had to fight herself to not follow him. The dark lines of ink were twisting and turning like snakes on Daegon's tanned skin and she wanted nothing more than to touch them.

When he got back, his hair still wet and messy from the shower, Zoey welcomed him with an idea she'd had while he was gone.

"Can you teach me to fight?" she asked.

The smile that appeared on Daegon's face made her glare.

"I'm not that hopeless," she protested in advance.

"You have spirit, I'll give you that," the warlord said, still grinning. "But I've been trained in the ways of a warrior. I'm not trying to insult you, but you couldn't do half the things I know, physically."

Zoey didn't let that get her down.

"So teach me things I could do," she shot back. "You said we were going after the enemy. Once we get there, it would be better if I knew how to defend myself, at least."

As soon as she mentioned the fact that she'd be in danger, Daegon's features darkened. He gave her a judging look but nodded finally.

"I guess you're right," he said, reluctantly, as if it pained him to admit that even with his protection, her safety wasn't a guarantee. "But I won't promise this will do you any good. You should rely on your gun and the glove. You've been taught how to use it, right?"

"Yes," Zoey said cheerfully, standing up. "Of course I'll shoot first, but just in case I don't get to, I should know self-defense."

Daegon grinned again, motioning for her to follow. They stepped out of the bedroom and walked through a small hall, finding a little practice arena on their left. Zoey waited until Daegon typed something into a console and watched in amazement as the flooring changed.

Panels rose and switched, and when she hesitantly stepped on the new ground, Zoey found it to be softer than before. She figured it was for safety. Corgan warriors would shrug off an impact with stone floors, but she'd be sore for weeks.

"Tell me," Daegon said, coming to stand opposite her. "What do you already know?"

It was hard to concentrate on training when the warlord hadn't put his shirt back on after the shower. Zoey couldn't tear her eyes away from his perfect body, sculpted like a statue of an ideal warrior. She could imagine the Corgan priests showing Daegon off as an example of what they wanted.

Seeing the knowing smirk on his lips, Zoey took a hold of her mind, refusing to embarrass herself in front of him.

"All Union officials have been trained in basic self-defense," she said. "Don't laugh, I know it doesn't compare to what you've learned."

Daegon simply gave her a slight nod, not even a hint of condescension on his face.

"I wasn't going to," he said. "Just because I'm a warrior, doesn't mean I look down upon others who haven't had my training. Trust me when I say I wouldn't want you to experience what I have."

Zoey didn't reply at once. Over and over again, she was struck by the idea that Daegon wasn't anything close to the image the Union had painted for her. He was neither coarse nor stupid, and the famed Corgan pride she'd expected to fight every step of the way was nowhere in sight when it came to her.

Maybe it was just her, but Zoey was intent on finding out more. Even if she failed at her task, she could help Mara James convince the galaxy that Corgans weren't all bad.

"I think it would be best if you taught me how to fight the Yemalan, specifically," Zoey said. "After all, they're the ones who want me dead."

A dark look flashed behind Daegon's shining blue eyes.

"I agree," the warlord said quietly. "I will teach you how to handle them. How to use the gun and your glove for maximum effect. But Zoey... I need you to promise me something."

He was so serious that Zoey found herself nodding at once.

"Of course," she said. "Anything."

"Everything I'm about to show you, it's all for the Yemalan only. I urge you to hide rather than fight. Stay close to my warriors and me. And even if you happen to be alone, I don't want you to assume you can take any of them on."

"I understand," Zoey said, glaring. "I wouldn't go looking for trouble."

"Good," Daegon went on, his eyes still filled with passion. "That takes care of the Yemalan.
None
of that, do you hear me? None of that applies to Corgan warriors. You know there is a traitor in our midst. You saw him. If you see a Corgan that isn't mine, run and hide. Promise me that."

Zoey nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I promise."

It looked like a weight had been lifted from Daegon's shoulders. The smile was back on his face and he stood straighter, beckoning her closer.

"Show me what you've got," he said.

Immediately forgetting the dark subject, Zoey charged him as she'd been taught. She mimicked having the glove in her hand, trying to press it against Daegon's bare skin. Of course, the warlord caught her easily and she found herself lying on the mattress in the next second.

The bastard hadn't just "disarmed" her, he'd had enough time to lower her onto the ground gently. Zoey didn't know whether to be thankful or insulted, but she
did
know she was having fun.

"Again," Daegon called, backing away. "First I'll get a picture of what you've been taught. And then I'll tell you how the Union got everything wrong, as usual."

Zoey laughed.

She had to honestly admit that her life was still in terrible danger. Her superiors would have been horrified to hear what kind of a mess she'd gotten herself into. They'd sent her to negotiate with a Corgan warlord, thinking that even
talking
posed a considerable risk.

Now she faced outright war.

And still, despite all that – or maybe because of it – Zoey had never felt happier. Being with Daegon brought such simplicity into her life, and drove away all the concerns that should have been plaguing her. The Corgan way of taking everything one problem at a time was contagious. At that moment, she needed to learn how to fight Yemalan, so she was.

Her fighting instructor had told them all that there was plenty to learn in their defeats. Zoey didn't fool herself into thinking that she'd be able to win even a single round against Daegon. In fact, as minutes went by, it was pretty obvious that she couldn't even lay a hand on him if the warlord didn't allow it.

All that was natural and fine, but when Daegon smiled to her, true pride shining in his eyes, Zoey felt her heart leap.

"Good," the warlord praised her. "Very good. You're learning, not repeating the mistakes you made before."

Zoey loved it. She had never had such a rigorous training before in her life. Every inch of her body seemed to hurt when an hour had passed – although Daegon was clearly taking it easy with her. But every time she tried to go in for the deadly strike, he grappled her, and for a moment, they stayed locked together.

Zoey could feel his twin hearts beat, her back pressed against his chiseled chest. It took a lot longer for him to release her than it should have, but Zoey didn't protest one bit.

Her life had been thrown upside down, and Zoey had no idea what she was going to tell the Union officials if she made it through the next weeks alive. All she was aware of was Daegon, there, with her, always.

She never wanted it to end.