Abducted by her one night stand. Confined on a ship. Stalked by a traitor.
She wanted a prince, but it just *ucking figured Shira Perez's alien baby daddy turned out to be an intergalactic pirate.
Slick, amoral, hot as hell, Malko thinks just because his DNA helped create her son that she is his genetic fated mate, and permission is a pesky detail.
Shira's no push over, and even when Malko's bonding marks begin to spark, she fights for her independence.
But with a traitor on board, everything isn't as it seems, and underneath Malko's dark side is a streak of honor. His armor may be tarnished, but just maybe he's still a knight.
Warrior's Taken is an alien abduction, secret baby science fiction romance. Book 5 in the Warriors of Yedahn series, for readers who get off on snarky, sardonic, and steamy.
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Excerpt . . .
They crashed to the floor, her shoulder wrenching, and she jammed her elbow into his ribs once, twice, with all her strength. He rolled them over, pressing her into the ground.
“And that,” he said through gritted teeth, “is why training with an Adekhan is a bad fucking idea. If you want to learn to kill, learn from someone with no conscience.”
“Get off me!” she railed, thrashing beneath him. He hauled her up and dragged her towards his bed, throwing her down. Shira surged up, but suddenly there was a slim weapon in his hand pointed at her.
“That’s quite enough,” he said, voice cold, nose dripping blood.
“You’re still alive,” she spat, chest rising and falling rapidly with her harsh breathing. “It’s not enough.”
His quick grin was a savage slash of white. “You’re getting better, my dear.” He kneeled on the bed, a knee on either side of her, and his free hand clamped down around her neck like a vise, holding her still. “But still not fast enough. Or nearly as nasty as all that temper indicates.”
Shira let her body go limp, and shut her eyes, tears leaking out. But inside her mind, in the eye of the maelstrom, crystalline thoughts guided her actions. There was nothing more important than Ori. Than safety. Than justice.
She was much faster than he thought. Before Banu, she’d grown up in a neighborhood where you learned early to feed yourself, defend yourself.
She felt him leaning over her, the heat of his body and silky tickle of his braid as it fell in her face. Her eyes snapped open and her hand moved of its own accord.
Malko never went unarmed, and he underestimated her.
His slim hidden blade was in her hand before he deflected. She stabbed up. He twisted. Seconds later he disarmed her, a sharp pain in her wrist, then flung himself backwards.
Shira didn’t move, staring at the blood blooming on his neck, her eyes widening. He backed against the nearest wall and slid down, cursing.
“Congratulations, my dear,” he said as blood rushed between his fingers. “That was a killing blow.”