Mated to the Alien Warriors: An Alien Fated Mates Sci Fi Action Romance Read online

  Mated to the Alien Warriors

  An Alien Fated Mates Scifi Action Romance

  Corin Cain

  Contents

  Foreword

  1. Sandra

  2. Adrihan

  3. Sandra

  4. Adrihan

  5. Ryder

  6. Sandra

  7. Xzavic

  8. Sandra

  9. Adrihan

  10. Sandra

  11. Xzavic

  12. Sandra

  13. Ryder

  14. Xzavic

  15. Sandra

  16. Adrihan

  17. Sandra

  18. Ryder

  19. Sandra

  20. Adrihan

  21. Sandra

  22. Ryder

  23. Sandra

  24. Sandra

  25. Ryder

  26. Adrihan

  27. Xzavic

  28. Sandra

  29. Sandra

  30. Sandra

  31. Adrihan

  32. Sandra

  33. Ryder

  34. Sandra

  35. Sandra

  36. Sandra

  Foreword

  This is a fated mates reverse harem romance, for adult audiences. While it can be read as a standalone, to avoid spoilers in previous books in the universe the preferred Aurelian Empire chronological reading order is: Sold to the Alien Gladiators, Sold to the Alien Cartel, Mated to the Alien Warriors.

  I truly hope you enjoy!

  - CC

  1

  Sandra

  The heavily-tattooed infantry soldier groans under me as I ride him like a banshee.

  I like the infantry – I like fucking them. In general, they’re not too smart, they’ve got plenty of muscle, and, in the case of the man groaning beneath me, plenty of tanned, tattooed skin. This particular specimen tightens his fingers on the flesh of my hips – struggling to hold back his climax as I fuck him like a madwoman, increasing my tempo relentlessly.

  “Oh fuck,” he groans, and I know he’s getting close.

  “Don’t cum yet,” I demand, in my most authoritative voice – the one I use to discipline new recruits. The soldier screws up his face, struggling to obey, but overwhelmed with the need to explode inside me.

  Oh, fuck – if he can just hold out a little longer. I’m so fucking close. If this grunt finds his release before I do, I swear I’m going to punch a hole in the wall.

  And then it comes – and I gasp out as my orgasm shudders over me.

  Simultaneously, my smartwatch turns the color of blood.

  Fuuuck!

  Red alert. I’m needed urgently at the station.

  The moment my pussy stops contracting, I slither off the soldier’s cock. He looks at me with shock, his big brown eyes adorably wide. It’s a twisted pleasure to see a 6’5” muscled man reduced to a state of utter lust.

  “Look what you do to me! You can’t leave me like this,” he pleads, but the time for lovemaking is over.

  “You’ve got plenty to think about while you take matters into your own hands,” I say, flashing him a wink.

  I’m hobbling as I pull on my uniform pants. It’s supposed to be my day off – but when you’re one of the highest-ranking officers in an entire precinct, emergencies can pull you in at any time. I know that for a fact, since I’m made that call myself a dozen times. I don’t care if it’s your wedding day – you’d better be ready to strap on a flak-jacket and bust down doors when you get that call.

  I pull my flak-jacket around me. Without it, I feel naked – even more so than without my uniform pants. My flak jacket is a reminder of how fragile humans can be – especially in this line of business.

  It’s hard not to feel a little sore about it. Unlike the Aurelian Law Enforcement, which outfit their seven-feet-tall, heavily-muscled officers with the latest technology and armor, those of us in the human security forces are left relying on the basics. My planet doesn’t have the resources to fashion fancy Orb-Armor or powerful Orb-powered weapons. We’re left to make do with the simple protection of carbon fiber and metal.

  I lace my boots, and give one last, longing look at the big, thick cock of the infantryman I’ve left panting on the bed. Doran’s been my go-to stress relief over the last couple months, and I feel a pang of guilt for leaving him with blue balls. We have a good thing going. He doesn’t ask me too many questions, and I don’t waste time in a relationship. We just fuck, and that’s it.

  I stare at Doran, as his eyes plead with me for release. That drop of pre-cum on his glistening cock-head is just begging to be licked up…

  …but I have no time for such carnal pleasures. I have a planet to protect.

  Terra is my birthplace, named after the planet my race was born on, and I’ll die before I let anything happen to it.

  Laces tied, I hurry to my condo’s landing bay and punch in the keypad for the AI system to bring my ship to me. As I stand there, waiting, I impatiently check the news feed.

  My blood runs cold.

  Rav'nok, the Planet Killer, has struck.

  Caladin has been destroyed. Eight billion souls snuffed from existence. He didn’t even give them a warning. The water planet, with its famous floating cities, was once a gem in the Human Alliance.

  Now it’s rubble.

  The gears are turning in my head as my small, sleek ship approaches on autopilot. I push out the grief, shoving aside the thought of so many lives lost, and I focus on thinking analytically.

  Rav'nok is the vilest terrorist in the universe. He was captured by the Aurelians once – the towering, seven-feet-tall warrior race who dominate vast swathes of the universe. They should have executed him on the spot – shown him the same mercy he’d shown billions of innocent lives; or, rather, the lack of it.

  But, no. The Aurelians, in their arrogance, demanded a ‘fair trial.’ They let Rav'nok live to face one – and in doing so, they gave him the opportunity to be broken out of jail.

  And that’s exactly what happened – and eight billion lives on Caladin had just have paid the price for it.

  Bloody, stupid Aurelians. They think with their cocks and not their heads – and now they have eight billion more lives on their conscience.

  The hatch on my vessel pops open, and I swing myself into the cockpit. Normally, I love to pilot my ship - the skilled movements required to pilot safely through the busy downtown gets me into a state of flow. Today, though, I let the AI take over. I need to think fully about what’s just happened.

  For the most part, I’m horrified at the latest loss of life.

  But I’m also disquieted by something.

  Rav'nok has a pattern.

  Had a pattern.

  Does he have a new MO?

  Up until now, Rav'nok has been as dependable as he’s been depraved. He always worked the same way. The Planet Killer would target a world on the outskirts of the Empire, demand a huge sum of money from them, and kill everyone if they didn’t pay up.

  And I mean everyone. Whole worlds, laid to ruin by nuclear devastation, bio-engineered plague, or whatever other weapon of mass annihilation Rav'nok could get his hands on.

  So, why didn’t he make demands this time?

  I arrive at the precinct, and find it a flurry of activity. I don’t let the chaos disturb me, and beeline straight into my superior’s office. John Marrock is in his fifties, with a trimmed white beard and calm green eyes - usually. Those eyes don’t look too calm right now.

  “Inspector Bellinks. We’ve got a… a tragedy on our hands here.” He winces as he says the words.


  I nod grimly. “Caladin. Rav'nok obliterated it.”

  John sighs deeply. “The evils in this universe… Gods dammit, I just want to retire. I can’t take this one. We’re the closest planet to… to…”

  He can’t even say the name ‘Caladin’. I’ve never seen this powerful man – my mentor – looking so fragile before.

  Marrock looks up at me and nods: “You’re our strike leader for this one. I need you to go to Caladin – what’s left of it – and scour the wreckage for any sign of where Rav'nok’s going to attack next. He… By the Gods, why didn’t he demand anything? Why didn’t he give us any warning this time?”

  His voice cracks with grief, and he motions me to sit wordlessly. I take the chair in front of his desk. John Marrock has a picture of his wife and kids on his desk. I’ve never had that luxury. Encounters like the one with Infantryman Doran are all I’ve been able to balance with the pace of my career. I guess it’s easier for a man to balance family and also work their way up in the ranks, rather than for a woman like me.

  I shake such thoughts from my head and focus on the dire situation instead.

  During my flight to the precinct, I was thinking through the same question that Marrock posed himself: Why didn’t he make any demands?

  Rav'nok is the most powerful terrorist in the universe right now, with an army of devotees who’ve been drawn to his message of blood and violence. He’s an Aurelian – but while the majority of Aurelians believe strongly in order and law, Rav'nok embraces chaos and death instead. His cult believes that killing will grow their power – and with the scope of destruction Rav'nok wreaks, I almost believe it.

  But he’s always given a warning in the past. So, why would he blow up Caladin before demanding his usual, ludicrous sums?

  Then it hits me – like a bolt of lightning.

  “Caladin was just a warning – a message. Rav'nok’s been gathering strength ever since he broke out of maximum security. Now? He’s just showing us his power. He’s demonstrating that he can destroy a planet before we can even react.”

  “That’s a theory, Inspector Bellinks. Never…“

  “…never tunnel-vision a theory.” I complete his sentence for him.

  Marrock and I have worked together for ten-years now, since he first took me under his wing as a fresh-faced cadet. I didn’t disappoint. I had the highest arrest rate as a Constable, and rose in the ranks with blinding fury – to become the youngest Inspector in the history of the Human Alliance.

  Not the youngest female Inspector.

  The youngest Inspector, period.

  There are only five ranks above me on this planet – and then you go galactic, if you want to keep moving up. Which is exactly what I want to do.

  I know I shouldn’t ‘tunnel vision’, as Marrock calls it, but my instincts tell me Rav'nok’s going to strike again, and soon. This time, he’s going to give the planet just hours to come up with some ludicrous sum of money. In the aftermath of what he’s just done to Caladin, whichever planet he victimizes, they’ll pay – and they’ll pay quick, without even contacting the Aurelian Empire for help. No one wants to be the one responsible for destroying their own home; so, nobody’s going to challenge Rav'nok’s demands. The thought of having so much blood on your hands makes capitulation the only choice, even if it plunges your people into poverty for generations. At least they have generations.

  The horror of the situation is not lost on me… But I’ll confess, there’s a thrill to this hunt.

  I thought Marrock would be assigning me to the organized crime cases that have plagued our planet, which is a pretty high-profile assignment in itself. But this case? It’s a thousand times more visible. This could make my career.

  I almost feel guilty at thinking that – at how the horror and agony of knowing a man just cut short eight billion lives pales in comparison to the adrenaline flowing through me.

  But, regardless of my motivation, the end result will still be the same. I want to catch this bastard Rav'nok, and bring him to justice. I want to be the one to end his legacy of death and destruction. I’ve been offered an incredible opportunity, and I’m going to take it for all it’s worth.

  “Never tunnel-vision a theory, chief,” I repeated. “I’ve got it.”

  “Good. You’ll have a private home-base in uptown,” he says, reading off the address.

  I nod. “Can I pick my own staff?”

  He winces. “Yes… but there’s one condition.”

  I don’t like the sound of that.

  I narrow my eyes. “What is it?”

  “We’ve had word from the Aurelian Law Enforcement. They want in on this.”

  I groan.

  For the last thousand years, relations between the Human Alliance and the Aurelian Empire have been growing ever more strained. Once, in our distant past, the Aurelians had ‘saved’ humanity from near-annihilation by the Scorps – but claimed dominion over us all who wanted their protection as part of their Empire when they did so. Terra, my home planet, is one of the few great human planets left under self-rule. Caladin was another gem of the weakened Human Alliance.

  Ever since then, more and more humans had been wondering whether becoming subjugated by the Aurelians was truly worth the ‘salvation’ it offered us. Anti-Aurelian sentiment has grown in Aurelian Empire controlled worlds, and the radicalization of humanists is creating even more tension between our empires.

  It’s not just a political problem. The problem was that Aurelians are an all-male species, and had once relied on human females to bear their young through something called ‘the Bond.’ Only a female bonded to an individual Aurelian could bear their young.

  For almost a thousand years, though, no bonded pairings had occurred – and the Aurelians had been forced to rely on a scientific method of propagating their race by taking the life essence of a dying Aurelian and transferring it into a new, cloned body.

  The legend of the bonding process still existed, though, and the Aurelians had become increasingly more desperate to find their own bonded mate by growing ever larger harems of human females – to the point of threatening to reintroduce slavery. Tensions had been simmering between the Human Alliance and the Aurelian Empire ever since.

  Right up until the first bonded pairing in a thousand years had occurred – between a human woman, and three members of an Aurelian warrior triad. The leader of that triad, Raegan, had later become Emperor – and his bonded female ruled at his side.

  “The new Queen, Queen Jasmine, is trying to build bridges between humanity and the Aurelians,” Marrock explained, “and bringing Rav'nok to justice is part of that project. Aurelian Law Enforcement gave us an offer of help in this investigation – and we’ve accepted.”

  Fucking Aurelians. No way I’m going to have one of those meatheads on my team.

  I shake my head. “No. You are not going to send an Aurelian here. Those misogynistic bastards could never work under a woman.”

  There’s no possible way an Aurelian man could respect a human female. In fact, the phrase “Aurelian man” is a misnomer – the word ‘man’ is wasted breath. They’re all male, and they spend their long, rich lives building huge harems of submissive females in their search for their legendary ‘fated mate’.

  John sighs. “Not one. Three. They want to send a whole triad over.”

  I scowl. Great. Not only will I have to deal with one of those arrogant alien bastards trying to second-guess every decision I make – now I have to deal with three of them!

  And, what’s worse, they’ll be communicating behind my back through that weird telepathic bond they have.

  Aurelian triads aren’t related by blood, but nevertheless form a strange bond in battle – linking their minds, so that they can work together as a single-minded killing machine on the battlefield. A killing machine that could be a huge asset, if I could get three towering, swaggering aliens to fall in line. Not an easy task, given that Aurelians are generally hundreds of years older t
han adult humans and treat most of us like children. They walk around looking and acting like Greek Gods, with their heads held high.

  Given the choice, I’d never voluntarily work with an Aurelian – or three of them – but obviously, I’m not being given the choice. I think quickly, trying to find a way to salvage the situation. Marrock looks tired, but I know he’s sharp enough to take my suggestion.

  “I accept that condition,” not that I have any choice, “but I’ve got a condition of my own. They send new officers. Not the old brass, who are going to rankle under my command. If you don’t push for this, my whole investigation is going to get derailed.”

  Marrock nods, sighing deeply. He must know the Aurelian Empire will not like the stipulation, but unless we get the rawest of recruits, he knows as well as I do that this whole investigation is going to get derailed by a power struggle.

  “Very well. I’ll push for it, but I can’t make any guarantees. You’re one of many strike leaders, Inspector Bellinks. Every planet in the Human Alliance is bringing together a strike force to stop Rav'nok. You can liaison with them at your convenience to share notes, or if you prefer to be isolated, I’ll let the decision be yours. I trust your judgement completely – but the Aurelian triad is non-negotiable.”

  I sit up straighter in my chair. Aurelian inference aside, hearing Marrock’s praise fills me with confidence. I have great respect for this man – and knowing he chose me for such a high-profile assignment is the greatest compliment I could ever get.