His Human Mate (Captives of the Dominars Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Additional Books in the Captives of the Dominars Series

  Stella Rising Links

  His Human Mate

  By

  Stella Rising

  Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Stella Rising

  Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Stella Rising

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Rising, Stella

  His Human Mate

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Dreamstime/Andrew7726 and Shutterstock/nazarovsergey

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Chapter One

  Sabine

  Chaos. This is total chaos.

  Everywhere I look, men are hollering at each other, their faces red, sweaty, and covered in days of stubble. They’ve been at it for hours, refusing to back down. None of them wants to face the fact that the power they once had is almost certainly gone. I can understand their frustration, confusion, and bitterness. No one could have predicted that in just a few short months they’d go from vital players in international diplomacy to obsolete, inconsequential remnants of a system headed for extinction.

  I guess alien invasions can have that effect.

  Not that I’m doing so much better: the reflection looking back at me from my smartphone looks like she’s been on a forty-eight-hour bender. Neither a double latte nor my makeup can hide how tired I look—I could really use a full night’s sleep. I haven’t gotten one since the invasion first began—I don’t know anyone who has.

  Is it just the light, or is that a strand of gray hiding in my straight raven hair? I’m still a year shy of my thirtieth birthday, so it better not be—but after the past few weeks, I wouldn’t be surprised. When I accepted an appointment to be the United Nations’ chief ambassador for the Dominar invaders, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I expected the challenge to come from the aliens, not my colleagues. The Dominars might be taking over the planet, but at least they don’t argue in circles for days on end.

  The subject of the meeting, what will happen to the world’s nations after the invasion, couldn’t be broader—or more irrelevant. Since the world’s nations were forced to sign a joint, unconditional surrender, the decisions aren’t even ours to make.

  It’s too bad I couldn’t keep dealing with Commander Vol, leader of the invasion. He understood the value of being both direct and reasonable with his demands. Even though our interactions were adversarial, he treated me with respect—I can’t say that for all of my colleagues, and we’re supposed to be on the same side. And, I have to admit, it didn’t hurt that Vol was easy on the eyes, like all the Dominars. When we used to imagine aliens, it was always little green men or beastly cosmic horrors—not a race of beautiful Adonises. Vol’s smile could melt a glacier, or make me forget that my career is ending prematurely.

  In truth, right now there’s not much for us to do. Since the Dominars declared themselves rulers of Earth, most of the world’s power-hungry scumbags went into hiding—at least, the smart ones did.

  We should be celebrating the relative peace that has resulted from the aliens’ interventions, but instead, my colleagues bicker like children.

  “We will not abandon our movement for independence,” shouts Gaspar Jaffe, waving his finger at the audience. “No alien is going to keep us from seeking the freedom that has been denied us for fifty years!”

  “The dictatorship you’re fighting probably won’t exist a week from now,” I interrupt, speaking for the first time in hours. “Gentlemen, what are we doing here? Any decision we make could be undone by the Dominars in a matter of seconds. We’re building castles in the sand with a hurricane bearing down on the shore.”

  “And what would you suggest, Ms. Marchessault?” asks Jaffe, his thick accent not hiding his derision. “Should we just sit on our hands while the aliens decide our fates? Are we to just accept that we are never going to control our own destinies ever again?”

  “Of course not,” I begin. “But what good is—”

  “Do our people not deserve justice for decades of oppression?” Jaffe continues.

  “They do, but—”

  “We’ve waited patiently because world powers asked us to. We watched as our independence was tabled again and again, always an issue for another day. Are my people supposed to give up on the dream of freedom?”

  “No!” I snap, starting to lose my temper. “None of us will ever give up on freedom. It’s not who we are. But for the moment, what choice do we have but to wait and see what happens? The Dominars say they believe in justice—if this is true, then your people will have their freedom.”

  Jaffe brushes a manila folder from his podium. “And what if they’re not, Sabine? What then?”

  “Then we’re all kinda fucked, aren’t we?” I retort, throwing my hands in the air. I regret saying it immediately, as the chamber erupts into cacophony.

  “Listen!” I shout, trying to be heard. “People are scared of what’s to come, and that’s fair. But what are we going to do about it? Talk each other to death? What we should be talking about is solid steps we can take to help people, on the ground, right now. We could be coordinating the distribution of food and medical supplies to impoverished nations. We should be setting an example of stability and calm, not infighting and petty grudges. If we can’t work together to do what’s right, all of you should be doing so on your own. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

  My comments quiet the room, probably for the first time in days. Some of the ambassadors slump into their seats, while others stare at their feet. We’re all exhausted and fumbling in the dark. Most of them, I imagine, have been looking for an excuse to throw in the towel, at least for the day.

  Gaspar Jaffe, however, has not.

  “Actually, Ms. Marchessault, I’m here because my people deserve to have their voices heard!” he barks, reigniting the assembly. “Even if the Dominars intend to enslave us all and steal our children from their cradles, I will not rest until this body recognizes my nation’s sovereignty and dignity.”

  Sighing, I roll my hazel eyes. “You would spend what could be our final session fighting for a symbolic victory when we have so much real work to do?”

  Jaffe gets up and strides toward me, his face twisted in rage, like I’ve grievously insulted him. He moves pretty quickly considering all the extra weight he carries around his midsection. “This so-called ‘symbolic’ gesture would give my
people the satisfaction they deserve, even if it won’t bring our oppressors to justice—”

  “Which is what the Dominars will likely do if you’d let them—” I try to argue.

  “You don’t know that for sure, Marchessault. What makes you so sure that they’re being honest with us?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “Because they could crush us like insects. What reason could they possibly have for lying? Whatever they want from us, they could just take it. Do you think they crossed the galaxy to play games?”

  Jaffe’s nostrils flare and he points a thick finger in my face as he speaks. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to get fucked by them, which is more than I can say for you.”

  There is a moment of hesitation where I ask myself what kind of legacy I want to leave for myself at the United Nations. For a second, I wonder if this is something I could have foreseen back when I gave my valedictorian speech at Princeton. Then my arm swings out, fingers balled in a fist, and I sock Jaffe in his grimy, hairy face.

  Something pops, and an electric jolt shoots through my hand as the man stumbles backward. At first I think I’ve broken a finger, but then I see blood start to drip from Jaffe’s nose.

  “Do you think the Dominars give a shit what happened in the past? None of that matters right now. Aliens are here, and we have to prepare ourselves for the future. I feel for your cause and your people, Mr. Jaffe, but it’s time for you to either help us focus on a more relevant issue, or get the fuck out.”

  Jaffe wipes his face, smearing blood across his upper lip, then spits. “Fuck you, Sabine,” he says. Before I can react, he reaches for my neck with both hands. His grip quickly tightens, cutting off my breath. I pound my fists against his arms, but he holds on. “I won’t be spoken to this way. My nation demands justice, and you—”

  Whatever he was going to say next, I’ll never know. Something pulls him away from me and throws him clear across the room. He lands in a heap against the wall, then crumples to the floor. I cough, then inhale sharply. After I recover, I turn to where everyone is looking: the chamber’s entrance.

  Standing in the open doorway is a Dominar. Clad in a white double-breasted dress uniform with brilliant crimson stripes running up the sides and pointed black epaulets on the shoulders, he steps into the room in total silence. Everyone in the room, myself included, stares at his turquoise skin and long, coppery hair. Every inch of his frame bulges with muscle, and he must be at least seven feet tall.

  “My name is Tamrys,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. “And I am the new executive consul of Earth.”

  Chapter Two

  Sabine

  “Ms. Marchessault, are you okay?” asks the alien, stepping up to me and holding out his hand.

  I take it and let him pull me to my feet. My neck tingles from Jaffe’s grip, but I’m alright. “Yes, thank you.” Turning to where Jaffe is groaning on the floor, I ask, “Is he…?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” says Tamrys as a squad of Dominar soldiers streams through the entrance. Wearing suits of powered armor, they take up a defensive formation around Tamrys, except for one, who breaks off from the rest to see to Jaffe. “If he’s injured, he’ll be treated by our medics.”

  “If he has a broken nose, that was probably me,” I say, sneering as the guard picks Jaffe up off the floor and carries him off.

  Tamrys laughs, a loud guffaw that’s surprisingly jovial for a Dominar, at least in my experience. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see that.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble, staring at the handsome alien. Everything happened so quickly, I realize I haven’t had a chance to really appreciate Tamrys’s incredible good looks. His face looks carved from granite, with a wide, chiseled chin and long, pronounced cheeks. He regards me with eyes so navy blue they’re nearly black. His copper hair hangs down to his shoulders, contrasting the beautiful turquoise tone of his skin. I’d heard there are Dominars of all shades and colors, but it still takes some getting used to. Still, it’s quite striking to see, and not in an uninviting way.

  “Ms. Marchessault, are you listening?” he asks, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Sorry…” He said he’s the executive consul, but is that what he expects to be called? “How should I address you?”

  “Humans and their protocol,” he says, chuckling. “Consul Tamrys is fine. Or just Tamrys. I don’t really care, as long as my orders are obeyed. Now, it sounds like I interrupted something important when I came in?”

  Interesting, I think, trying to make sense of the alien. He’s easily amused, and not interested in honorifics—and yet he sounds strict and demanding at the same time. It’s an unusual pairing, one that may take some careful navigating.

  “Actually, that depends entirely on why you’re here,” I reply, happy to have a reason to change the subject and purpose of the day’s meeting. “What can we do for you, Consul?

  “You can give me the floor.”

  “Of course,” I say, pointing to the chamber’s elevated central speaking platform.

  He nods, then climbs up the stairs to the podium. “Have a seat, everyone. I have a short statement, and you’re not going to like it.”

  A murmur spreads through the audience at this, but it quickly quiets back down so he can continue. How bad could it be? What if Jaffe is right, and this is where all the acts of goodwill are revealed to be a smokescreen for something terrible? Though I try not to jump to conclusions, I can’t help wondering if I should be slipping off my heels and preparing to run.

  Tamrys sets his jaw in a grimace. “There’s no good way to put this, so I won’t mince words. Effective immediately, you’re all relieved of your positions, and this body is permanently dissolved.”

  Nobody speaks at first, all of us floored by the announcement. I suppose I should be glad he didn’t say anything about the lot of us being required to fight each other to the death, or commit some kind of ritual mass suicide.

  “Who’s going to represent our nations in global government?” asks Sunil Kapoor, no doubt mirroring the concerns of everyone else.

  “In the coming weeks and months, Dominar consuls and praetors will be arriving on Earth to take control of world affairs,” explains Tamrys. “They will be responsible for nations or regions, with respect given to your existing national subdivisions.”

  “How will these leaders be chosen?” I ask, feeling a cold churning in my gut. “Where do they come from, and what do they know of Earth and humanity?”

  “I have appointed the top consuls for each region and for many of Earth’s major nations,” Tamrys says, narrowing his eyes. “The praetors have been appointed by their immediate superiors. As long-time members of the Dominars’ Galactic Preservation Initiative, they are all highly experienced in governing primitive species under their jurisdiction. As for their knowledge of Earth, everything learned by our planetary scout, Agent Kest, has been transmitted to the rest of us via nanites.”

  “Nanites? What are those?” I ask.

  “Microscopic devices inside our bodies capable of interfacing with our brains and biological functions: they can do everything from sending messages to perfecting our health—they can even replicate and modify themselves as necessary. All Dominars have them.”

  My mind races, imagining the power of this technology. “So if one Dominar, like your scout, learns something important, he can instantly tell all the rest of you.”

  Tamrys nods. “While living on Earth for more than one hundred years, he compiled a comprehensive encyclopedia of human history and culture. I promise your future leaders will all be quite knowledgeable.”

  He pauses a moment to let all this sink in; it’s a lot to process, and my mind is reeling. Do they really think they can fire all of the world’s elected leaders and replace them with their own, and have it go smoothly? I don’t know how other planets may have reacted to that in the past, but I have a pretty good idea of what humanity will think of it.

  His stare bores into me, perhaps sensing
my displeasure. “Does that answer your questions, Ms. Marchessault?”

  “Actually, I have more. A lot more.”

  Like, are you out of your fucking mind?

  “I’ll take one more, for now,” he says, humoring me.

  I think I know the question most important to us, and for their sake, I ask it: “If you’re taking over our work, what are we supposed to do?”

  Tamrys breaks into a thin smile, his lips curling just enough to show he’s pleased but not wanting to disrespect the gravitas of the situation. “I’m glad you asked. The answer is, go home. I respect that all of you are here to better the lives of your people, and since this is part of our goal as well, we will gladly accept your help. For now, that means preparing your nations for the changes that are to come.”

  I open my mouth to say more, but one stern look from Tamrys stops me. Inside I shiver, staring into his commanding eyes, and I feel a warmth surge between my thighs.

  Holy shit.

  As angry as I am about what’s happening, I can’t pretend Tamrys isn’t hot as hell. Normally I despise overly domineering men, but the ones I know have mainly been despots who treat their power as license to do whatever they wish—and they never have an immaculate body made of pure muscle.

  Still, I didn’t work my entire life to get where I am, just to have it all tossed aside in a single day. I’m going to find a way to continue my work, no matter what.

  Tamrys continues, “In order to understand what will be expected of humanity and those governing it, I will make available all of the information needed, including Dominar laws and the expected progression of Earth’s transition. I can provide this information electronically or in print, but to make the absorption as fast and complete as possible, I have with me injections of nanites.”

  Another one of Tamrys’s guards enters the audience chamber carrying what looks like a briefcase. Opening it, he presents several rows of syringe-like devices.