Alien Conquest: (The Warrior's Prize) An Alien SciFi Romance by Scarlett Rhone

paying it off any time soon, or he would not have been so reckless himself.
    He felt Lohar start to slump in his arms, and made the mistake of loosening his grip just by the tiniest fraction.
    Lohar pulled a small knife from the sole of his shoe and reached up, slashing, and managed to slice into Vega’s arm.
    Vega hissed, his hold tightening again until Lohar was thrashing about but unable to land a second blow with the knife. This time, Vega did not relent until he could feel the big cursu’s pulse begin to slow in his throat, against Vega’s forearm. He only relented when Lohar’s head bowed forward and all the fight went out of his limbs. With a furious roar, Vega released him. Lohar hit the floor, unconscious. Vega slid back, climbing to his feet, and winced when he checked the cut on his arm. It was deep —blood streaming down, dripping off his fingertips— and it hurt. It would have to be tended to before the games, and it might slow him down.
    “Stupid bitch,” he growled at the donara, who was huddled against the wall by the stairs. “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you doing down here?”
    In a matter of minutes, he knew, the guards would come.
    Her scream, the sound of their fight, and the simple opening and closing of the gate at the top of the stars would have alerted them to inappropriate movement in the house.
    The girl cringed further against the wall when he approached.
    “I’m not going to hurt you,” he barked. “But you’ve put us all in danger!”
    “I was trying to escape,” she said shakily, lifting her head to look at him. There were tears staining her cheeks. “I was trying to get out of the palace.”
    “Through the barracks ?” Vega stared at her. “There’s no way to get out of the palace through here. Only the tunnel to the Arena.”
    “Fuck,” the donara cried. “Fuck. Fuck. The girl lied to me. The cleaner. She said this way led to the sanitation bays.”
    Vega rolled his eyes. “You are as stupid as you look.” Then he bent down and just grabbed her by the arms, pulling her to her feet. “Get up.”
    She tried to shake him off. “Let go of me. I’m not stupid .”
    “When they find you down here,” Vega snapped. “The domina will have us all whipped for your disobedience. Do you understand that? She owns you. And me. And every other slave in this palace. And the fault of one is the fault of all.”
    She looked at him, surprise plain on her face. And he was startled to find that she was even prettier up close than he’d thought when he’d seen her from the training yard. In an uncommon, alien way, she was gorgeous. Peach skinned with pale freckles dotting her face and soft gray eyes, the color of a morning mist at home or a spring rain cloud. Her face was framed by pale hair soft as the sunwheat his father’s farm had harvested every year. He let go of her, discomfited by finding so many shades of his home world in an alien, startled by finding her so appealing.
    “I didn’t know,” she stammered.
    “No, it’s clear you know practically nothing,” he muttered. He looked down at Lohar, trying to figure out a way to spin this that didn’t land them all on the blocks in the market, or worse.
    “You’re hurt,” the donara said quietly. “You’re bleeding.”
    “Yes, I know. Shut up. I’m thinking.”
    “Here.”
    Vega looked at her again, watching with no small amount of bafflement as she reached down and gathered up the skirt of her gown, then proceeded to tear it to shreds. He had no idea why she was rending her dress until she came close and looped the fabric around his bicep where Lohar had sliced it, tying it tightly, and staunching the blood flow. Vega blinked, watching her use yet more torn fabric to continue wrapping the wound.
    “Are you some kind of healer?”
    “Something like that.”
    “And this works on your planet?” He frowned.
    She frowned right back at him. “Well, it’ll stop you bleeding, and you didn’t seem to be