Warrior: A Scifi Alien Romance (Galactic Gladiators Book 2) Read online

She placed some of the small, star-shaped pieces in her mouth. It was salty-tasting, and reminded her a little of popcorn.

  “So Raiden’s fighting with Harper tonight.” She grabbed another handful of mahiz.

  “Yes. And Saff is partnered with Thorin.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He shook his head. “It is a pleasure to fight with Saff, but it’s good to mix it up sometimes. You learn more, and don’t get complacent.”

  Regan nodded. She knew each of the gladiators had a partner. They practiced together, perfected their moves, and protected each other. Harper had told her it was unique to the House of Galen, and what gave them an edge.

  Kace’s face was so serious, and she wondered if he ever smiled. Whenever she was near Kace, she always felt like he was carrying a heavy weight. She knew he wasn’t a slave, but was an arena volunteer, sent here by his military to hone his skills.

  “Do you miss your planet?”

  He glanced at her for a second. “I miss my work and my squad.”

  Suddenly, she felt the ground vibrating beneath her. A hush fell over the crowd. Regan shifted in her seat, dread curling in her belly. What was going on?

  A moment later, the center of the arena floor opened up and six giant robots rose through the gap. Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Fear trickled into her veins. The machines were enormous and humanoid in shape. “What the hell are those?”

  “Tonight is a robot fight,” Kace said, as the crowd started cheering, a wild sound reminiscent of thunder.

  “Robot fight? The gladiators have to fight against those machines?” Her voice wavered.

  “They’ll be fine.” Kace looked completely unconcerned.

  The House of Galen gladiators entered the arena.

  Harper and Raiden were in the lead, completely ignoring the crowd. Thorin and Saff came next, both of them raising their arms and egging the crowd on. Behind them, Nero and Lore brought up the rear.

  As they closed in on the robots, even Thorin’s powerful form looked small compared to the giant machines.

  The first robot moved forward, swinging a huge club. Its blow smashed into the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. The crowd let out a fierce round of screams.

  She saw the gladiators stop for a minute to talk. Then, with a wild roar, Thorin rushed forward. His big body powered forward as he ran. He swung his axe and attacked.

  The robot’s club swung down and Thorin dodged, rolling across the sand. He leaped back to his feet and ducked a swing of the robot’s other arm. He slid in low, slamming his axe into one of the robot’s legs.

  The other gladiators fanned out, moving forward, but Regan only had eyes for Thorin.

  The robot stamped its giant feet, sending more dust up, and narrowly missed Thorin. As the machine wielded its club again, Thorin threw his axe. It embedded itself in the robot’s thigh, sending out a shower of sparks.

  Thorin stood, and Saff came in from behind him. She threw her net, which tangled around the robot’s legs. The machine started kicking, trying to get free. Thorin wrenched his axe out, pulled back, and slammed the weapon into the robot’s knee, severing its leg.

  The robot tilted over like a felled tree. It slammed into the ground, the lights blinking on its chest flickering before they went out.

  The crowd surged to their feet, stamping and shouting.

  Next, she watched Raiden and Harper sprinting together toward a second robot. They both ducked swings, their swords hacking into metal. Then Raiden lifted Harper, tossing her upward. Regan watched, heart in her throat, as her friend gripped the robot’s arm and started climbing it. She nimbly scampered upward, keeping her balance as the machine moved. Then she grabbed the robot’s shoulder and scrambled up. It shook itself, trying to get her loose, but she held on tight.

  Harper climbed up behind the robot’s head, and drew her swords. She reached forward and stabbed her blades into the robot’s glowing eye sockets.

  The machine went crazy. It started jerking and twisting. It swung around wildly, and Harper lost her balance. She flew backward through the air. The crowd gasped and Regan shot to her feet. Harper.

  Raiden lifted his arms and snatched Harper out of the air. As the robot crumpled into a heap behind them, Raiden pulled Harper close and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

  They were so alive. So in love. Regan pressed her palm to her racing heart. The arena was violent, physical, but there was just something about it. It stripped everything back to raw emotion. Watching these gladiators testing themselves to their limits, working together as a team, wrung out all kinds of emotions from the crowd.

  Lore took down another robot, and then spun to face the crowd. He clapped his hands and smoke rose up above the arena floor, like a storm cloud.

  The smoke changed colors, turning to the red-and-gray colors of the House of Galen. Lore spun elegantly, and red confetti rained down like rose petals.

  The crowd loved it. It also provided cover for Nero as he charged in against another robot with whirling blades at the end of its arms. He fought with relentless determination and power, and soon the robot was nothing more than twisted metal on the sand.

  That left two more robots.

  Regan watched, her heart hammering against her ribs, as Thorin and Saff brought the next one down. As it slammed onto its back on the ground, Thorin leaped up on its chest and brought his axe down. He was like a wild man, ripping and tearing until he pulled out the robot’s mechanical heart.

  He held it up above his head, and the crowd screamed his name. Regan screamed it loudest of all.

  ***

  Thorin’s chest was heaving. He shifted and he realized that his scales were out. Bloodlust was riding him.

  A good fight always did that. He looked up, his gaze unconsciously searching the crowd, and he spotted Regan. She was cheering, her arms lifted above her head. Cheering for him.

  Lust slammed into him. Drak, he wanted her to watch him. To see his strength and skills. To see him.

  Even across the distance, he saw her go still, their gazes locked. He knew she could feel it. He knew that she was thinking of him touching her, sucking her, him moving thickly inside her body.

  The sound of fighting made him rip his gaze away. The others had brought the final robot to its knees, but its weapon was a dangerous electrical charge that sizzled across its body.

  Feeling pumped, Thorin charged forward. With a mighty roar, he swung his axe and slammed it into the robot’s chest. Sparks flew in a wild shower around him.

  As he yanked his axe out of the metal and stepped back, the rest of his team rushed forward to finish off the giant machine.

  He glanced at Regan again, and she was still cheering.

  He stood there, feeling that last rush of energy through his body. He was soaked in sweat, and while there was no blood tonight, he was surrounded by torn metal and ruined components. Destruction.

  No. He was supposed to be staying away from Regan. She deserved better than this, and this wasn’t even the worst of what he was capable of. He needed to get this thing under control.

  Sweating and beating things in training and in the arena wasn’t working. Jerking off in his hand wasn’t working, either. He needed to try something else.

  As he turned, the announcers declared the House of Galen the victors.

  Raiden stepped up beside him and slapped him on the back. “You were on fire tonight, my friend.”

  “We owned the sand,” Saff called out.

  As a group, they turned and headed toward the tunnels. Thorin lifted a hand to the cheering crowd, but paid them little attention. Emotions were twisting inside him. He felt something stir deep in his chest. Drak.

  In the tunnel, he saw Regan waiting for them. She was so pretty, so clean.

  She was the light. And he was dark. He’d been born dark, honed in blood-drenched shadows, and nothing would ever change that.

  She smiled at him and a lick of panic w
ent through him. He had to do something, or he was going to succumb, claim her as his, and never let her go. She had no comprehension of what that truly meant.

  She started walking toward him, and he knew that this time he couldn’t turn her away.

  Suddenly, two women rushed in front of her in a cloud of perfume. The two flutterers rushed up to him, screaming his name.

  Both women were tall, toned, with long waves of black hair and beautiful faces. One latched onto his side, while the other pressed herself against his chest, her hands sliding under his leather harness.

  He looked down at them and felt…nothing. Desire was throbbing through him, but it was for one woman only. The one woman he’d vowed to stay away from.

  “Kiss me, Thorin!” One of the women pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I want it hard and dirty, gladiator.”

  He looked up, and saw Regan watching him, frozen.

  He felt Raiden and Harper go still beside him.

  Then Thorin nodded. “Sure thing, gorgeous.”

  Instantly, she smacked her mouth against his, her tongue thrusting inside his mouth. He held himself still for a few seconds, but then he couldn’t stomach it. He lifted his head and looked up just in time to see Regan’s stricken face.

  The second woman at his side splayed her hand across his abs, sliding downward. He grabbed her fingers before she slid them inside the front of his leathers.

  This time when he looked up, Regan was gone.

  Raiden stepped past him, shaking his head. “Idiot.”

  Chapter Seven

  Regan worked all through the night. She knew she was moving maniacally, rushing from test to test, and experiment to experiment. But she wanted to get the med gel ready, and she needed to keep busy.

  She needed to keep her mind off Thorin.

  Just his name made her muscles lock. Images blasted through her head of him lying back in his big bed, naked women crawling all over him.

  She dropped a glass beaker and it smashed on the stone floor. Dammit.

  Regan forced herself to take a few calming breaths. Then she bent down to clean up the mess. A piece of glass pricked her finger and she snatched her hand back. A tiny bead of blood bloomed, and she stuck her finger in her mouth. It was nothing. Nothing compared to the hurt in her chest.

  She sighed. Thorin wasn’t hers, had never been hers. She looked up, her gaze running across the crowded benches of her lab. This was her space. This was where she belonged. Tears pricked her eyes and she fought them back. She had no business chasing after a big, wild gladiator.

  She was Dr. Regan Forrest. Nice, sensible scientist. She’d fought against her parents’ expectations to forge her career. They’d wanted her to be something else, and it appeared Thorin wanted something else, too.

  No one ever accepted Regan for herself.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Regan. She stood and straightened her simple blue top. She just had to focus on what she had achieved. The enhanced med gel was ready. She carried out all the tests she’d wanted and she knew it was much better than the original product. She also had tests running on various different liniments to help loosen up sore muscles. She turned her head to the ledge by the window holding all her plants. And she’d managed to get a dead stalk to bloom into a beautiful flower. It was the most luscious red, edged in white. The bloom had three petals, each a curl with a fluted edge. And the scent—she breathed deep—she’d never smelled anything quite as beautiful.

  Yes, she’d focus on her work and not the stubborn gladiator who’d cracked her heart.

  She pressed her palms to the surface of the bench. Damn him. There was no need for him to knife her like that and rub it in her face. Regan tucked a strand of hair back behind her ears.

  At some point during the long, lonely night, she’d realized that she was dependent on everyone here in the House of Galen. She’d been using Thorin for comfort and protection, Harper for emotional support, and Galen for everything else. She had no money, and was dependent on what others gave her.

  If this was going to be her home, she needed to find a way to support herself. It was time for her to stand up for herself.

  She grabbed a small knife and the finished tube of med gel off the bench. Then she tossed a small cloth over the blooming plant and carried it under one arm. It was delicate and didn’t like too much light.

  She knew it was still early, but she marched out of her lab and down the corridor toward Galen’s office. The large wooden door was inlaid with a metal version of the house logo—that fierce profile of a gladiator.

  She didn’t knock, just slammed inside.

  Galen’s head shot up. He was sitting behind a giant, wooden desk. Behind him, the large, arched windows offered a beautiful view of the rising suns and the empty training arena below.

  He scowled at her, and with his eye patch across his scarred face, she thought he looked like some angry warrior of the gods.

  “And good morning to you,” he said in his deep voice. “Just come in.”

  She blew out a breath. “Sorry.” She didn’t need to take her anger out on other people. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  He leaned back in his chair, and waved a hand at one of the chairs in front of his desk. Up close, she saw the desk was made from a dark, grained wood. His large desk chair was made from the leather of some animal.

  She sank into the guest chair and set her things down on the desk. “First of all, I want to thank you for taking me in. I’ve been busy settling in, and wrapping my head around everything—”

  He frowned. “Wrapping your head—?”

  “Sorry. An Earth saying. Trying to understand everything. I haven’t really said thank you. I know I’m not a gladiator, but I want to find a way to earn my keep. To make my own living.”

  Galen studied her, that single, pale-blue eye like a laser. Regan got the impression the man was good at reading people very quickly.

  He rested his hands on the desk. “I’m listening.”

  She moved the med gel tube to the center of his desk.

  One of his eyebrows rose.

  Maybe it was better if she just showed him. She pulled out the knife and cut it across her palm, wincing at the pain.

  Galen pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet. “Hell.”

  “It’s okay.” She reached out and squeezed some of the gel on her palm. “I’ve been working on enhancing the med gel properties.” She held her palm out so he could see as the edges of the wound sealed together. “A wound that used to take hours to heal will now heal in just minutes.”

  He sank slowly into his chair, a gleam in his eye. “Well done.”

  “Thanks. I’m a botanist with a specialty in healing properties of plants. That’s what I did before. I’ve collected all the plants I could find around here and have been studying them.” She felt a wash of heat in her cheeks. “It’s my thing.”

  “It’s impressive.”

  She shrugged. “Not quite as impressive as fighting giant gladiators in the arena.”

  He watched her intently. “I disagree. It’s just different.”

  His praise made her chest warm.

  “What else have you been working on?” he asked.

  “I’m working on a few other things right now, but nothing’s quite ready yet.” She shrugged her shoulder. “My only other small success is something I don’t think you’ll care about.”

  “Try me.”

  She lifted the cloth off the flower. Its beautiful scent wafted around them.

  A funny look crossed Galen’s face. “Do you know what that is?”

  She frowned. “A flower. Well, it was a dead stalk in the living area, before.” She shifted nervously. “I didn’t think anyone would mind if I took it. I just watered and fertilized it.”

  “It’s called an oria.”

  “Okay.” It sounded pretty.

  “Regan, it’s the rarest flower in the galaxy. Said to be created by the Creators themselves.”

  Regan tilted
her head, curiosity rising. “The alien species who seeded life throughout the galaxy?” She still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that an advanced species traveled the galaxy millions of years ago, planting life on various planets, like cosmic gardeners.

  “Yes. The oria is highly prized for its scent, and even worshipped by some species. This one was a gift from a very pleased and very wealthy sponsor. We tried desperately to keep it alive, without success—as you know. It’s worth as much as I pay my gladiators each year.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She reached out to finger the bloom. “Oh.”

  Galen leaned forward. “What I pay all of my gladiators added together.”

  She snatched her hand back. “Oh, my God.”

  He shot her a faint smile. “I think I can find a buyer for you. For the gel and the oria.”

  “Buyer? Oh, well, they’re not really mine. I was just hoping that you’d pay me a wage to work on this stuff—”

  “You create it, it’s yours. The House of Galen will take a cut, but the rest belongs to you.”

  She dropped into the chair. “Wow.”

  He smiled again, and it did nothing to soften his intimidating face. “Good work. I’ll set up a meeting for the sale in the market. I’ll ask Thorin to accompany you.”

  “No.” The word burst out of her.

  Galen’s eye narrowed.

  She swallowed. “I mean, yes, please, to the meeting. But not Thorin. Maybe someone else?”

  Galen kept watching her.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Finally, he nodded. “In the meantime, continue your work in your lab.”

  Despite the hurt still lodged in her chest, Regan felt something inside her ease. She wasn’t dependent on anyone, anymore.

  Maybe she could actually make a life here, all by herself.

  ***

  Thorin lifted his bottle of ale and took a sip. He was sprawled in a chair in the living area, not interested in talking to anybody. He watched the morning light slowly moving across the floor.

  Slowly, the others started to file in.

  Lore raised a hand, his long hair still tangled. “You look like you didn’t get much sleep.”