Alien Protector’s Mate (Latharian Mate Program #4)

Chapter 20

20

S ’aad placed his hand over Jade’s on his arm to reassure her as he glared M’lak down. Her hand trembled under his, and rage filled him. Every quiver, every shaky breath she took only fueled his determination to protect her. How dare this draanthic come in here and try to claim what was his? His mate. His heart.

He turned his gaze onto Z’yan, who had followed M’lak and his group into the crowded space. The security chief’s usual stoic demeanor was marred by a furrowed brow and tight-lipped frown.

“What in the name of Liaanas is going on here, Z’yan?” he growled, barely containing his mounting anger.

“M’lak’s father managed to secure his release from custody,” Z’yan said, jerking his chin toward an older Latharian male standing near M’lak. S’aad recognized L’arr F’Nyal. A legal specialist, he was pretty much a pain in everyone’s ass aboard the station. “But I’m at a loss about this supposed matching.”

S’aad’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together so hard he was surprised he didn’t snap them off. Before he could reply and demand answers from either M’lak or his father, though, the doors swished open and two new warriors arrived. The Lathar in the room snapped to attention, S’aad among them.

The first was Duke Kaarigan, the newly appointed head of the Latharian Mate Program. He strode in with an air of authority that immediately commanded attention. His silver hair and sharp features were an older version of those on the male behind him, Prince Rohn, but his age didn’t make him any less deadly. Both males were K’Saan, the current ruling clan, who had held the throne since a distant war empress generations ago. She had passed her martial skills down through her descendants, and any warrior would think twice before going up against any of the K’Saan bloodline.

He seized the opportunity, stepping forward while keeping Jade tucked safely behind him. “Duke Kaarigan, we have a situation requiring immediate attention.”

Kaarigan stopped, an eyebrow raised as he looked around the room, obviously noting the tension and the confrontational stances of all involved.

“So I see. Explain.”

Z’yan moved to stand beside S’aad, the two warriors presenting a united front. “M’lak has already injured a human female… the one Healer V’Renn is protecting. We believe M’lak should be immediately removed from the LMP database and barred from all program locations for life.”

Duke Kaarigan’s brows snapped together, creating a heavy, dark line across his face. Before he could say anything, L’arr stepped forward, polished shoes clicking against the floor. Unlike the other Lathar in the room, he didn’t wear a warrior’s leathers but a business suit, every crease perfectly pressed, every line speaking of power and influence.

His face was a mask of cold indifference as he swept a glance over S’aad and Jade before turning to the duke.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” L’arr said, his voice was smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel. “There is no cause for such an expulsion from the program, as any injuries sustained by the human female cannot be held against my son. She has already been confirmed as my son’s genetic match, and as such, a warrior cannot be convicted of a crime against his own property.”

The words hung in the air like a noxious gas. Jade’s breath caught in a way that made his protective instincts flare. A low murmur of discontent rippled through the assembled humans, the tension in the room ratcheting up another notch.

Duke Kaarigan folded his arms over his broad chest, heavy muscles bunching as he looked down at L’arr. “I believe you are mistaken. A match in the Latharian Mate Program is not equivalent to a female accepting a claim.”

L’arr’s lips curled into a sneer. “That may be true for Latharian females, Duke Kaarigan. But the courts have not yet ratified humanity as being on the same level of sentience as the Lathar. Which means, legally speaking of course, the female is merely property and belongs to her matched mate.”

The room erupted as all the human females shouted at once, their faces flushed with anger and indignation.

“Property! Is that what you assholes think of us?”

“We’re not some cargo to be claimed and traded!”

“This is barbaric!”

Draanth . This was bad. Really bad. In seconds, L’arr could have inflicted untold damage on the entire mate program. Months of careful diplomacy and trust-building could be undone in moments that would take years to repair.

L’arr continued, his voice rising above the noise. “As the human is considered property, much like an Oonat breeder, she cannot give consent to the matching process. It is deemed automatic. The very act of genetic matching means she belongs to my son.”

Jade’s grip on his arm tightened enough to bruise, proof of her terror. He glanced at her and was forced to bite back his rage. Her expression was haunted, her skin pale, and she was breathing in short, sharp pants.

Carefully he loosened her grip on him and pushed her toward the group of human women. They parted immediately and then closed ranks with Jade in the center. Their hard eyes and furious expressions reassured him that even if M’lak tried for her, he would have to go through them all. For a second he felt guilty putting them all at risk like that, but then Margaret looked at him and nodded. A shiver rolled down his spine. He’d seen that same look on warriors in battle. It didn’t bode well for their enemies.

“You’re wrong,” he declared as he turned back to face the duke and L’arr. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing the marks on his wrist. “These mating marks are absolute proof of my claim to Jade. They are a divine blessing from the gods themselves and, as such, beyond the reach of your legal maneuvering.”

“Fake!” L’arr announced. “He’s using human tattoos to steal my son’s female from him!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” S’aad spat, his anger boiling over. “I am a male of honor. I would never falsify such marks!”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Mating marks are useless if you’re dead!” M’lak snarled, his face contorted with rage as he took an aggressive step forward. “I challenge you to a fight, S’aad V’Renn. Winner claims the female.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I accept your challenge.”

Duke Kaarigan stepped between them, his face a mask of grim determination. “If this is to be done, it must be done properly. We need an impartial official to oversee this contest.” He scanned the room before settling on a figure near the door. “Prince Rohn, would you do us the honor of officiating? You are mated, not a part of the mate program staff, and not related to either party in the dispute, so you cannot be seen as biased to either.”

“Of course, your grace.” The prince nodded as he walked forward, the crowd of warriors in front of him parting before him without question.

“Listen well, for I will only say this once,” he began, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd before settling on S’aad and M’lak. “The terms of this challenge are as follows. This will be a fight to yield or death. Bladed weaponry only. No energy weapons of any kind.”

M’lak sneered, flexing his muscles. “I won’t need any energy weapons to tear him apart.”

Prince Rohn’s sharp glare silenced him. “To ensure fairness, both combatants will be thoroughly searched for hidden arms before the match begins.”

S’aad nodded, still staring M’lak down. He was a male of honor, and he had no intention of cheating, but he wouldn’t put it past M’lak to try something underhanded.

“The fight will take place in the center of this room,” Prince Rohn continued. “A circle will be drawn, and stepping outside of it will result in an immediate yield to the other party. Is that clear?”

Both S’aad and M’lak nodded their understanding.

“Also, no outside interference will be permitted.” Rohn’s voice hardened as did his expression. “This challenge is between S’aad V’Renn and M’lak F’Nyal. Anyone attempting to intervene will face severe consequences…”

He paused and grinned nastily. “Namely, me .”

He looked over at the duke. “As head of the mate program, do you agree that the winner’s claim on the female will be recognized as legitimate and binding?”

Kaarigan nodded. “Yes, the victor’s claim will be acknowledged by all present, including the Latharian Mate Program officials.”

Everything within S’aad stilled at those words. Everything he had, everything he wanted… his entire life, heart, and soul rested on the outcome of this fight. Grim determination flowed through him. He wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t lose. Not with his mate as the prize.

Prince Rohn looked between the two of them. “Do you both understand and agree to these terms?”

“I do,” he said firmly.

M’lak’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, I understand perfectly.”

“Then prepare yourselves,” the prince said. “The challenge will begin shortly.”

A small hand grasped S’aad’s arm, and he turned to find Jade, her face pale and tear-streaked, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“S’aad, please,” she begged in a whisper, her lower lip trembling and tears gathering heavily on her spiked lower lashes. “You don’t have to do this. I love you. I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. I’ll… I’ll go with M’lak if it means saving your life.”

His heart clenched at her words, a mixture of love and frustration welling up inside him. Without thinking, he pulled her close, crushing his lips against hers in a fierce, passionate kiss. He poured all of his emotions into it… all his love, his determination… but it was more than that. It was also a promise to protect her.

“That’s enough!” L’arr’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “This is highly inappropriate. The female’s ownership is in dispute!”

The room erupted in fury again. The little group of human females surged forward, their faces contorted with rage.

“Owned? We’re not property!” one woman shouted, her fists clenched at her sides.

Another yelled, “You can’t just trade us like we’re cattle!”

Sadie’s voice rose above the din, her tone a hard lash of anger and determination as she glared at Duke Kaarigan. “Is this how you plan to treat unmatched women, your grace? Like objects to be claimed? Make no mistake, I will ensure that President Murphy hears about this!”

The rage and anger radiating from the human females actually made Kaarigan freeze, his lips parting as he looked at the hostile group in surprise. S’aad bit back a bitter smile. The duke really didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into if he thought human females were meek and mild, or happy to be ordered around. He almost felt sorry for the male… or he would, if he hadn’t put Jade’s life on the line.

Prince Rohn cleared his throat and looked at S’aad. “I’m afraid he’s right. Until the matter of claim rights is settled, you need to keep your hands to yourself.”

Reluctantly, he released Jade, though every fiber of his being screamed in protest. He stepped back, creating a small distance between them but keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Listen to me, kelarris ,” he said, his voice low so it was just between them. “When I’ve won, you and I are going to have a serious talk about your confidence in your mate. I’m not some weakling unable to protect you.”

He paused, his expression softening at the fear in her eyes and the way she trembled, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Besides,” he murmured, stepping so close he could feel the heat of her body against his. “After last night, you might already be carrying my child. No force in this universe could make me lose this fight. Do you understand?”

“No touching!” L’arr ordered from across the room.

“I’m not touching her!” S’aad whipped his head around to snarl back with such venom that L’arr took a step back. The draanthic was afraid. It was quickly hidden, but he’d seen the flash of fear in the older Latharian’s eyes. Good. He should be afraid.

S’aad turned back to his scared little mate. “Understand me, kelarris?”

“ You keep calling me that,” she whispered. “What does it mean? Little mouse? You called me that before.”

His lips curved in a gentle smile. “There’s no direct translation. It means beloved, or heart of my heart, or even my soul. You are all these things to me and more.”

Her eyes widened as a mixture of emotions flashed across her face—surprise, hope, and something that looked very much like love. She nodded slowly, seemingly at a loss for words.

He straightened and allowed himself one last glance at Jade. Then he turned to face M’lak, putting aside the mantle of healer and becoming the warrior he’d been since birth. M’lak would rue the day he crossed paths with him, and he would ensure the F’Nyal would forever remember why you should not cross a V’Renn.

Familiar faces pushed through the crowd, heading toward him. Vaan, K’rat, and Zell surrounded him, their presence a silent show of support.

He dropped his voice to a low murmur.

“If I fall here,” he said, his eyes never leaving M’lak, “he does not leave this room alive. You kill him. Then one of you claim my kelarris . Do not leave her unprotected, or by Liaanas herself, I will have my revenge from beyond death.”

Jade could barely breathe as the two Latharians circled each other in the middle of the room. She’d never seen S’aad like this before. Gone was the gentle healer and lover to be replaced by a warrior, lean and dangerous.

The harsh overhead lights glinted off the blades each warrior brandished. She couldn’t look away from them, mesmerized by their wicked edges. She swallowed hard, trying not to whimper in distress at the thought of the damage those blades could do. Just the thought made her stomach churn.

Her gaze bounced between the two fighters. S’aad’s expression was taut with concentration, his eyes focused intently on M’lak. In contrast, his opponent’s expression was one of cruel amusement, his dark eyes glittering with malice as he circled S’aad.

M’lak’s eyes suddenly locked on to her, and a smirk twisted his lips. He blew her a kiss.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he called out. “Once I’ve dealt with this pretender, I’ll show you what a real male can do.”

Bile rose up into her throat, burning the back of her tongue. She shrank back, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. The thought of being at his mercy made her skin crawl.

“That’s quite enough, F’Nyal. Focus on the fight instead of tormenting an innocent woman,” a female voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

A hand dropped onto her shoulder gently at the same time. Half-turning, she found a blonde woman standing beside her, sympathy in her eyes.

“Hey… I’m Naomi,” the woman said softly. “Prince Rohn’s mate. Don’t let that asshole scare you.”

She teared up slightly, feeling overwhelmed at the support as the other women crowded closer around her. Their nearness was a comfort, and she leaned slightly into Naomi’s touch, drawing strength from the contact.

The clash of metal on metal rang out as the fight began in earnest. Her eyes widened as S’aad and M’lak engaged in a deadly dance. Their movements were lightning-fast, blades flashing as they struck and parried. The brutality of it took her breath away.

S’aad moved with grace and power, his attacks calculated and efficient. In contrast, M’lak was all raw aggression, his strikes just as powerful but far less controlled. The difference in their fighting styles was clear…skill versus brute force.

Scarlet splattered across the floor as first blood was drawn. M’lak hissed as he drew back, favoring his arm. A thin red line cut across the skin. She couldn’t look away from the stain on the floor, her stomach churning.

“It’s alright,” Naomi murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “S’aad’s an experienced warrior. He knows what he’s doing.”

She nodded, clinging to that reassurance like a lifeline. He had to win. The alternative was unthinkable. She couldn’t bear the thought of them giving her to M’lak. She knew without asking that it would be a nightmare, one much worse than the abuse the Morgans had meted out.

For a while, it seemed like S’aad had the upper hand. She held her breath during a couple of close calls, her heart leaping into her throat each time a blade came too close to S’aad.

Then in a heartbeat, everything changed.

M’lak’s blade found its mark, slicing across S’aad’s arm. M’lak danced back, a shit-eating grin spreading over his face. Something about that expression struck a chill through her heart, and her gaze snapped to S’aad.

It was a minor wound, no bigger than the one he’d inflicted on M’lak, but within seconds, S’aad’s movements became sluggish. Her stomach hardened in horror as his face paled, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“No,” she whispered and looked at Naomi. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with him?”

One of the warriors who had surrounded S’aad before he’d begun to fight stepped forward, hissing, “Poison!”

The room erupted again. The warriors who had been silently observing the fight before began to shout, voices raised in anger and disbelief.

“This is an outrage!” Z’yan bellowed, his face contorted with fury. “The fight must be stopped immediately!”

Other voices joined in, a chorus of protest. Even Naomi called out to her mate. “Rohn! You have to do something!”

Prince Rohn’s face was a mask of concern, but before he could speak, L’arr stepped forward. The older Latharian’s voice cut through the noise like a knife.

“Quieten down. Nothing in our laws prohibits the use of poison in a challenge fight,” he declared, smug satisfaction ringing in his tone. “If V’Renn wasn’t skilled enough to avoid the cut, by the laws, M’lak has won fairly.”

It felt like the ground had been whipped away beneath her feet. This couldn’t be happening. It was a nightmare. It had to be. She’d wake up in any moment, safe and sound in bed, in S’aad’s arms.

“Please,” she moaned.

She had to wake up.

But she didn’t. Instead, she stood as if her feet were rooted to the floor as S’aad stumbled a few steps. His face contorted in pain, and she watched the struggle in his eyes as he fought against the poison’s effects. His movements became more uncoordinated with each passing second.

She gasped as he collapsed to the floor. With a strangled cry, she lunged forward, desperate to reach him, but Naomi grabbed her, wrapping her arms around her to stop her.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, her voice raw with desperation as she struggled against Naomi’s hold. “He needs help! Please!”

M’lak strutted around room, showboating for his group of supporters and basking in his victory. The rest of the gathered warriors watched in stony silence, disgust in their eyes. She didn’t need to know much about the Latharian culture to know what M’lak had done wasn’t condoned. She could see the barely contained rage in their expressions as well as the way their hands twitched toward their own weapons.

“Someone has to help him!” she told them. “Please, he’s dying!” She could see S’aad’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing labored. Each second that passed felt like an eternity, each moment bringing him closer to death.

Z’yan appeared at her side, his expression grave.

“I’m sorry, Jade,” he said softly. “But no one can enter the circle until either S’aad or M’lak is dead. Those are the rules of the challenge.”

M’lak swaggered over, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He reached for her, but Z’yan stepped between them. She recoiled, pressing herself back against the solid warmth and security of Naomi’s hold. There was no way she wanted M’lak to touch her. Ever.

“Not so fast,” the big station security chief growled. “She doesn’t belong to you while S’aad still draws breath.”

M’lak’s face twisted in annoyance, but he shrugged it off quickly. Leaning around Z’yan, he blew another kiss at her.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, his voice sickly sweet. “I’ll be right back. Just need to take care of one little thing.”

Her world slowed as he turned around, heading toward S’aad on the floor. He would kill him. She just knew he would, and her heart froze right there in her chest as she watched, unable to do anything to save the man she loved.

Because she did love S’aad. She had from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, even if she’d lied to herself. Told herself that he couldn’t possibly love someone like her when no one ever had apart from her own brother. Then she’d lied again that he would be angry with her for her deception.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

In the end none of that mattered. In the face of his death, none of it mattered. She loved him, with all her heart and soul.

And she was about to lose him.

M’lak reached S’aad, sneering down at the fallen warrior for a moment before he pulled the dagger from the sheath at his waist.

But then… everything changed. S’aad surged to his feet before anyone could react and drove the dagger that had been lax in his own hand a moment before straight into M’lak’s heart. The sound of the blade piercing flesh was sickeningly loud in the sudden silence that fell over the room.

M’lak’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth working soundlessly as he stared down at the blade protruding from his chest. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he fell back and crumpled to the floor.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. No one dared to believe they’d just seen what they had.

“Foul play!” L’arr bellowed, his voice shrill with rage and disbelief as he pointed at S’aad. “This is impossible! He was dying!”

Prince Rohn’s voice cut over his complaints like the crack of a whip.

“Oh, shut the draanth up, F’Nyal,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

Everyone watched M’lak as S’aad stood over him, poised and ready to retaliate if M’lak got up again. But as they watched, M’lak’s chest rose and fell but then didn’t rise again.

A shuddering breath of relief escaped her. He was dead. The challenge was over.

With a cry, she shrugged out of Naomi’s hold and threw herself at S’aad. He caught her easily and held her close as she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

“ OhmygodIthoughtI’dlostyou !” she mumbled against his skin. “ Ithoughtyouweredead !”

She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. His skin was still pale, but his eyes were clear and alert, and he was moving fluidly now, showing no signs of the poison’s effects.

He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling with exhaustion and triumph.

“One of my research specialties at the healer’s hall was poisons,” he explained. “Most of my trials there involved dealing with intentional and unintentional poisonings. That’s why I don’t have as many scars as other healers. All of my trials were about overcoming being poisoned.”

He paused, running a gentle hand through her hair. The tender gesture brought tears to her eyes again. She never thought she’d feel his touch again.

“So when M’lak poisoned me, he inadvertently played right into my hands. It only took my body a moment for the antibodies to kick in and purge the toxins from my system. The rest was playacting. I’m sorry I scared you, kelarris, but it was necessary.”

Her knees went weak with relief, forcing her to cling to him.

“So it’s over?” she asked. “I’m yours?”

His expression was serious as he looked down at her.

“Yes, my mate, it’s over. And I’m not willing to wait any longer for us to be formally bonded. Not after this.” He twisted and spotted Prince Rohn nearby with Naomi. “Your Highness, would you do us the honor of bonding us here and now?”

The prince nodded, his smile widening. “It would be my pleasure.”

Before she could process what was happening, Naomi and several other women gently pulled her away from S’aad.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Naomi said with a smile. “Let’s get you ready to get married. If that’s what you want?”

She looked back over her shoulder at S’aad, who smiled in encouragement.

“Yes,” she said firmly, taking Naomi’s hand. “I do.”