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Possessed




  Possessed: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Romance

  Raider Warlords of the Vandar

  Tana Stone

  Broadmoor Books

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Also by Tana Stone

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Astrid

  It was all my fault.

  There was no one who would argue with that—not even my sister—and she loved to argue with me about almost anything.

  Of course, it had been an accident. I hadn’t intended to let our ship drift into Vandar territory. No one in their right mind would purposely enter Vandar space. Not when the raiders patrolled so intently, seeking the slightest excuse to go after a ship and strip it for everything—supplies, weapons, crew.

  “How far are we from the neutral zone?” my sister screamed over the sirens wailing on the bridge.

  I stared down at my fingers on the console, frozen above the blinking lights indicating our position. Even though I was looking at the coordinates, I couldn’t focus on what they meant. The warning lights that made the skin on my hands glow red had caused my brain to short-circuit.

  “Astrid!”

  Her sharp voice jolted me out of my daze, and I spun around at the navigational controls to face my sister. Her hands gripped the armrests of the captain’s chair, her knuckles white. “What?”

  With her red hair pulled up into a wild bun on top of her head and mine ash blonde and painfully straight, we looked as about different as sisters could. And while she was tall and lean, I was most definitely not. The only thing we shared were sea-green eyes, and right now, hers were flashing with fury. “How much longer do we have to outfly these asshole raiders?”

  “Right.” I pivoted back around and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart and the thoughts ping-ponging through my brain. Did our old freighter stand a chance against a Vandar warbird? What would happen if they caught us? Were the rumors true?

  I gave a hard shake of my head. Now was not the time to let my mind go down a rabbit hole.

  Focus, Astrid. You can do this.

  Even though I couldn’t even hear it over the sirens, I hummed to myself as I moved my hands across the console. The vibrations in my throat calmed me, as they always had, even if the readouts were less than comforting.

  I turned back around to face my sister. “We’re still .3 astronomical units away from the neutral zone.”

  “Fuck!” Tara jumped out of her chair and took long steps over to my station, dropping her head close to mine. “How did this happen?”

  I flinched at the implied rebuke, even though it wasn’t the worst I’d gotten. The truth was, I was a crapola navigator, and everyone on board knew it. The only reason I had the job at all was because this was my big sister’s ship, and she’d put me where she thought I could do the least amount of damage. So much for that.

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t meet her eyes, because I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in them. “I might have calculated wrong.”

  “Or you might not have been paying attention again.”

  I cut my eyes to the pilot at the console next to mine. Even though his eyes were locked on the front view screen, his jaw was tight, and I knew he could hear us.

  “I’m really sorry, Tar—“

  “Save it.” She stood. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, I need you focused.”

  I tried to ignore the burning behind my eyes as she strode back to her chair. I could only imagine how our talk later would go. Probably a lot like the others where she lectured me on responsibility and how lucky we were.

  I glanced around the dingy, gray bridge of the battered freighter. Sure, it may be a big deal for a woman to captain her own freighter—especially a woman as young as my sister—but transporting other people’s junk around the galaxy in a ship that had seen better days was not my idea of a good time—or a good life. Not that I could ever say that to my sister. Or ever would.

  Despite hating that she still treated me like a child and was bossy as hell, Tara was all I had. It had been just the two of us since we were teenagers, and I knew that as much as she threatened, she would never actually drop me off at an alien outpost.

  “Brace,” the first officer cried, seconds before the entire ship shuddered, rocking to one side and almost sending me flying off my seat.

  “Report!” Tara yelled.

  “A direct hit on our starboard. Hull breach in one of our cargo bays.”

  I swiveled to look at Tara. Our cargo bays held all the merchandise and weapons we were transporting from one outpost of the Zagrath Empire to another.

  An expression I didn’t recognize flashed across her face, but then she narrowed her eyes and looked straight ahead. “If they think that’s going to slow us down, they don’t know us very well.”

  Another hit jolted me so hard my teeth rattled. I clutched the edges of the console to keep myself steady, peering down at the navigational route and the flashing, blue dot that indicated our ship moving slowly across the curved, green line toward the neutral zone where we would be safe. Of course, the reality was that the Vandar raiders didn’t observe the borders of the neutral zone any more than they observed the rules of war. I knew, just like every person on board, that reaching our destination did not guarantee our safety. Nothing could do that in the face of one of the brutal warlords who led their menacing hordes of black warbirds that were said to materialize out of thin air.

  More red photon fire exploded across our bow.

  “Get us out of here, Mose,” my sister said, over the sound of more weapons firing.

  “I’m trying, Captain. But propulsion systems are failing.”

  Despite the sirens and the explosions, the bridge seemed to go quiet for a moment. We all turned to face Tara. Tendrils fell out of her bun and curled around her face, blending with the red splotches of color on her cheeks.

  She pressed her lips together. “They’ll tear us apart if we keep going, and we’re not going to be able to outrun them.” Her eyes flicked to her first officer, standing slightly behind her at a console. “Power down, and tell the Vandar we surrender. Maybe they’ll take our remaining cargo in exchange for our safe passage out of the sector.”

  Bile rose in my throat, and I put a hand over my mouth to keep it down, turning away so no one could see my weakness. Not even Tara believed what she was saying. The Vandar would never let us go. We’d all heard the stories. The Vandar were not known for their mercy, or for negotiating.

  I couldn’t bear to look back at my sister. She knew this as well as any of us, but her voice did not tremble with fear like mine would have. She would be brave to the end.
<
br />   My stomach churned. My sister was going to lose everything, and all because I’d been too distracted to do my job.

  Our ship slowed, and the engines ceased rumbling. Soon after, the weapons fire also stopped, and several black-hulled ships appeared off our front bow, almost melting into the darkness of space behind them.

  My pulse skittered, and I heard the sharp inhalation of breath around me. The enemy ships looked like massive birds in mid-flight, with arched wings stretching out iron claws from a round belly. I almost expected them to have red eyes that glowed.

  Another hard jolt told me the Vandar raiders had locked onto our ship.

  “They’re boarding us,” Mose said, his voice toneless.

  I finally turned to look at my sister. I needed to talk to her before they came. I needed to tell her how sorry I was.

  She hadn’t moved, her arms straight and rigid and her hands curled around the armrests of her chair. Her chin jutted up and her shoulders were squared. She knew the evil that approached, and she planned to meet it with the same steely determination she’d always had, and I’d always admired.

  I attempted to catch her eyes, but her gaze was fixed over me. As the pounding of boots on the metal floor grew louder, she tilted her head up almost imperceptibly. “Let them come.”

  Chapter Two

  Kratos

  “It’s some sort of freighter.” My battle chief leaned against the dark standing console, as he glanced down at the readouts.

  I rocked back on the heels of my boots, peering out the front of my warbird at the outmatched space vessel we were pursuing. “I can see that. Is it Zagrath?”

  “It’s not an empire ship, but it looks like it has Zagrath access identifiers,” Corvak said after stealing another look at his blinking screen.

  “Tvek,” I cursed, a low growl escaping my lips. “That means it’s carrying cargo for the empire. Could be guns or supplies to keep our enemy well-stocked to ravage more planets like ours.”

  Other dark rumbles of anger from my command deck warriors joined mine. I didn’t need to look at my crew to know the fury on my warriors’ faces.

  My gaze locked on the battered ship we were chasing. It didn’t look like much, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. Any ship moving supplies around the massive, Zagrath Empire was a threat to the freedom of those not wishing to live under choking empirical rule. I clenched a fist tightly as I thought about the greedy empire that had taken over our planet generations ago and forced our nomadic warrior people to take to space.

  “How long until we’re within firing range?” I asked, assessing quickly that the freighter was no match for our advanced weaponry.

  I knew that my horde was massed behind us, flying in the amoeba attack formation that we preferred, the sleek ships shifting positions intermittently. We’d dropped our invisibility shielding when we’d determined that the ship we were pursuing was no threat, so it was standard procedure to fly in amoeba to make us harder to target.

  “Closing in now. Should I prepare a torpedo, Raas Kratos?” My battle chief addressed me by my full Vandar title, as he always did when confirming an attack.

  I glanced at the warrior who was also my cousin, his black hair tied back. Corvak was so eager to fire, but I preferred to mete out our violence in controlled doses.

  I strode a few steps closer to the view screen that stretched across the front of the command deck, my leather kilt slapping my bare thighs. Something about the ship piqued my attention, and I wanted to know why it had flown into our territory when most ships went out of their way to avoid us. Were they exceptionally daring or exceptionally stupid?

  “No.” I crossed my arms, the crossbody strap that kept my steel shoulder armor in place digging into my flesh. “They might have valuable cargo. We’ll board them.”

  Another rumble passed through my command deck crew like a wave—one of anticipation. We hadn’t boarded a ship in a while, and the possibility of battle fired their lust for enemy blood. I know it fired mine.

  I turned and took long steps back across the command deck, nodding at my first officer and Corvak as I passed them. “You’re with me.”

  They both grunted in acknowledgement, spinning on their heels to join me, the leather of their kilts catching air and their long tails swishing. Like all Vandar raiders, they were bare-chested, black hair spilling long down their broad backs, and inky markings curling across their chest muscles. Thick, metal-studded belts held their kilts in place, and deadly battle axes hung from them.

  I flicked my gaze at another warrior at a standing console. “You have the command deck. Lock onto that ship and get us into position for boarding.”

  He snapped his heels together and threw his shoulders back. “Yes, Raas.”

  My battle chief stole a glance at me as we left the command deck and descended a wide staircase, our heavy footfall echoing off the iron and steel that made up our warbird. “You have not led a boarding party in some time, Raas.”

  “Too long,” I said, to halt any more queries into my motivations.

  He gave a curt nod, understanding that the matter was not up for further discussion. Although I was a fair Raas, and welcomed my warrior’s input, I did not wish to discuss why I wanted to board this insignificant ship personally. I myself did not fully understand.

  As we descended farther into the ship, winding through the labyrinth of open-weave, cage-like corridors and pounding down more stairs, my pulse quickened. It had been too long since I had tasted battle, and the anticipation of striking another blow to the Zagrath Empire made my fingers buzz as they rested on the hilt of my axe.

  The warriors who walked astride with me had been part of my crew since I took command as the raider horde’s warlord, or Raas. It had been many rotations since I’d assumed the command after my father, and we had the most victories of any of the other Vandar warlords, but we were still a long way from passing on our battle axes to a new crew. I knew our people’s traditions, but I could not imagine ever giving up the life of a raider to live out my days on one of the secret Vandar settlements, far from the empire and the bloody battles that had become as natural to me as breathing.

  “What should I tell the rest of the horde?” My majak, Bron, asked.

  “Maintain formation and keep weapons trained on the enemy vessel. They may be hiding their capabilities and be more deadly than they appear.” I hoped that was the case, my heart beating faster at the thought.

  “It is done,” he said with a sharp nod, before striding to a console outside the hangar bay and relaying my orders.

  My majak had ordered a squad of warriors to meet us at the hangar bay, and they were waiting when we strode through the wide doors, their fierce faces just as alight with desire. We all needed a battle. Needed to think we were weakening our enemy. The enemy that seemed to keep coming, no matter how long we fought against it.

  When we reached the shuttle ramp, I paused, turning to face my warriors. “All glory to Lokken, god of old.”

  “Glory to Lokken,” my warriors replied, solemnly.

  Then I grinned. “Are you ready to slash another hole in the belly of the beast?”

  Wide grins spilt their faces as they roared their answer. “For Vandar!”

  It had been our war cry for as long as our people had been roaming the wilds of our planet, moving in hordes and battling for control of the land. When we’d been forced to abandon our planet, we had held tight to our traditions. Even now—generations later—our ships traveled in groups of ten or more warbirds, all commanded by a single warlord. We wore the battle clothing of our ancient ancestors and carried their weapons, although we had also developed sophisticated technology for our ships and had phasers attached to our belts, as well as battle axes.

  “For Vandar!” The bellows of my warriors reverberated through my own body, making my blood heat and my heart hammer in my chest, as I ran up the ramp to the shuttle with my Vandar brothers close on my heels. We all pulled curved shields off the
walls of the ship where they were stored for battle. Bron took the helm while I stood behind, my eyes fixed on the wide opening leading into the blackness beyond.

  Gripping the cold steel of the beam overhead, I held tight as the ship rocketed across the hangar bay floor and burst out into space, banking hard and approaching the enemy freighter. The ship looked even more weathered up close, the dull exterior dented and scarred with scorch marks. My lust for battle dampened as I noticed the meager weapons attached to the hull. This was no war ship, I thought, as disappointment choked me.

  “Their shields have been disabled, Raas.” My first officer twisted his neck to look back at me, his dark brows lifted. “They have issued a surrender.”

  Low murmuring passed through my warriors, and I suspected they were thinking what I was—this would not be a battle after all. This was clearly not a ship filled with warriors ready to engage us in battle if they had already surrendered. I doubted its crew were trained warriors, and it was even less probable that this ship had been tasked with moving armaments. The Zagrath would not be foolish enough to trust anything crucial to such a battered old freighter. We were probably preparing to attack a ship carrying blankets and grain.

  “Zagrath supplies are still Zagrath supplies,” I said, to quell their frustration and my own. “But we will hold our blades unless provoked.”