Atone By Treaty Read online

  Alien Shapeshifter Romance

  Qui Treaty Collection

  Atone By Treaty

  Kayla Stonor

  Galactic warlord, born to rule and conquer.

  Now he wants the president’s daughter.

  Copyright © 2017 Kayla Stonor

  Editor: Travis Luedke

  KINDLE EDITION

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and publisher of this book. The contents and characters in this book are entirely fictional and the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. All persons depicted on cover image are models and the cover is illustrative only.

  Adult Reading Material (18+)

  This novel contains sexual scenes and mature themes unsuitable for underage readers.

  Publications by Kayla Stonor

  THE SURRENDER COLLECTION:

  ~ Stand-alone novels ~

  Under By Duress

  Under By Treaty

  Under By Vengeance

  Coming soon:

  Under By Coercion

  Following

  UNDER BY TREATY

  Kayla Stonor presents the

  QUI TREATY COLLECTION

  Each episode is a stand-alone romance

  set within a wider saga.

  Under by Treaty~ (#1)

  Release by Treaty ~ (#2)

  Restrain by Treaty ~ (#3)

  Hunted by Treaty ~ (#4)

  Submit by Treaty ~ (#5)

  Obsession by Treaty ~ (#6)

  Betrayal by Treaty ~ (#7)

  Atone By Treaty ~ (#8)

  Ceasefire ~ (#9)

  (Novel in the Great Space Race series)

  Books 2-5 are available in box set:

  Coming Soon:

  Outlawed By Treaty

  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

  Also by Kayla Stonor

  Under By Treaty

  Alien Captive Box Set

  Obsession By Treaty

  Betrayal By Treaty

  Under By Duress

  Under By Vengeance

  Kayla Stonor

  Chapter One

  She ran for her life, the enemy close on her heels.

  Panic sustained her race through the Alborz mountain range, a full moon her only guide. Survival depended on keeping distance between her and the al-Doziyen fanatics on her tail. United Regions’ air patrols would deter an enemy search craft, but her ground pursuers surely had thermal imaging. She needed a mile lead on them to avoid detection.

  When her vision blurred and she nearly missed her footing, she jogged to a stop, bent over hands on knees and sucked cold night air into her aching lungs. She fought back nausea, her head and heart pounding, but not loud enough to drown out a too-close shout. Shit. Gabrielle ran long distance to keep fit, could maintain a respectable pace for miles, but not like this, charged on fear, gunshots still ringing in her ears, the taste of blood on her tongue. She spun around, trying to establish her bearings, scrubbing at her face, the moon higher than the last time she checked.

  Which way had she been facing? Light caught her attention.

  Torchlight? No, a village.

  A moan escaped her lips. Where was Cale? Colonel Cale Tennant led her protection detail. Nothing would stop him finding her... if he wasn’t dead.

  Her stomach turned over.

  Please, God, please, please let him be alive.

  Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut against a familiar heartache. Darts of colored light receded to a point.

  No. Can’t fall apart. Not again. Not now.

  She regained her breath, pushed Cale’s fate to the back of her mind, and listened hard. All quiet, she decided to head away from civilization. The al-Doziyen might not expect her to flee further into the mountains. This time, she ran with more care, the dry ground more, loose rocks waiting to break an ankle. Five minutes run, one-minute rest. The slope got steeper and she used her hands to propel herself forward. Her sturdy boots weren’t made for climbing. She needed help.

  Breathing hard, Gabrielle activated her psycom neural implant.

  Central Command? Seconds passed. Colonel Tennant?

  Nothing.

  Shouts made her jump. Her Farsi was limited, but that sounded like, “this way.” Someone had picked up her tracks. Whatever blocked her comms also interfered with their radio transmissions, forcing them to shout. She launched into a dead run.

  If they were close enough to be heard, then she was probably in thermal targeting range.

  The ground ahead disappeared so quickly she squealed as she skidded to a halt, the toe of one boot stopping on open air. She teetered on the edge of inky darkness before regaining her balance. Heart in mouth, Gabrielle stepped back, dropped to her stomach and studied the jagged cliff edge extending in both directions. The lights she’d spotted earlier twinkled farther to her right and across the ravine, or valley, or whatever lurked down there. A cloud crossing the moon reduced her sight to meters. Several steps to her left, a series of anchors and pockets offered a possible way down.

  Her pulse leapt.

  Crazy to free climb.

  No choice. The al-Doziyen closed in. The violent extremists operated a constant campaign of terror across this region of the Fringes. They wanted her alive, a trophy to parade before their followers. If they caught her, the peace negotiations with Salhi moderates would come to a grinding halt. The Salhi were the only sane form of government in opposition to al-Doziyen.

  Captured, Gabrielle would be leverage against her father, a stab at the heart of the elected leader of the United Regions, Earth’s president. Both her UR security team and Salhi forces had died protecting her, but now she was on her own.

  She checked her psycom once more. No response, her neural implant silent and useless.

  Capture was out of the question. She’d rather die... or climb down a cliff face into the darkness.

  *****

  Gabrielle awoke with a start, convinced she’d heard her name, heart skipping to realize she’d fallen asleep on a narrow ledge inches from certain death. The rising sun crested an expanse of blue stretching to the horizon. The dawn unveiled a rolling Persian landscape to the Caspian Sea and the deadly fall awaiting one false move. Carefully she pulled her hand back from a void and placed the palm against the ledge and pushed into the cliff face.

  Rock crumbled under her hand and she gasped, held still, the clatter of stones lasting several long seconds. She shivered, and only partly from fright. Her damp clothing clung to her skin and the cold bit deep.

  “Gabrielle. Don’t move.”

  Her mouth parted.

  What the hell? Was that Oltu?

  She bit back an undiplomatic curse. Oltu’s graveled voice couldn’t be mistaken, stirring lustful memories she’d prefer to forget. Gabrielle risked a quick
glance but an overhang of rock shielded her from sight. She’d scrambled onto this ledge late into the night as her fingers refused to grip the wall, no longer able to hold her body weight. She could only stay put and hope the United Regions found her first.

  The al-Doziyen had tracked her to the cliff minutes after she’d dropped over the edge, beams of torchlight piercing the darkness but not finding her. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, her heat signature apparently masked by rock. One threw a flare out into the dark void. It dropped a long way. If they’d hung around, searched longer, they might have detected warm air emanating from her position. Instead they’d moved on.

  She’d waited for long hours, expecting her psycom to reactivate any second.

  No luck.

  She must have nodded off, with death one false move away.

  That twist in her gut took hold, a hollow sensation of fear realized too late, and now Oltu had found her.

  Not only had he found her, the precocious reptilian overlord presumably came to her rescue.

  Why him, of all creatures across the galaxy? When did he return to Earth?

  Being beholden to this arrogant prince of an evil alien empire set her teeth on edge. His human mask disguised his reptilian DNA well, but couldn’t change the lizard at his core. She smelled his telltale musk and a familiar response uncoiled. Desire. Oltu deployed biological weaponry, a chemical concoction with an extensive range and a specific target.

  Her.

  She fought the sensual haze Oltu’s presence always instigated, biting through her lip. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth.

  “I know you’re there. I can scent you.” His movements dislodged a shower of small stones that tumbled one meter to her left and she spotted him, five feet away, hand stretched out towards her, handsome as ever, clinging to the cliff face like a spider. “Gabrielle, take my hand.”

  She shook her head, holding her breath against the cloud of dust drifting over her.

  “Gabrielle!” His voice sharpened with ill-disguised impatience. “Are you injured?”

  She flexed her fingers, considered getting on hands and knees first.

  “No,” Oltu snapped when she moved to turn over. “Just reach out your hand.”

  His hand reached out towards her, tantalizingly close.

  Hell. She wasn’t getting out of this on her own. Last night adrenaline had flowed through her veins. Now she was cold, exhausted, weak, and hungry. A climb solo would be fatal, stupid, and reaching out to him too much like surrendering to the enemy. Common sense dictated she should trust in Oltu’s alien strength and take his hand.

  Panic clamped her gut.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “I don’t think I can reach you.”

  She tried to speak and nothing came out, her throat dry as a sunbaked salt flat.

  “Skal! How did you reach this place?” Oltu grumbled. He tilted his head as if listening. His one hand hold gave way and he stabbed talons into another anchor so fast she only caught the blur of movement. Although he appeared human, his sharp black claws gripping the cliff face proved otherwise.

  Gabrielle mustered up saliva and swallowed. “Use your wings.”

  “She speaks. I feared you had bitten off your tongue.” Oltu’s attention shifted upward giving Gabrielle sight of a Qui psi-translator attached to his ear. “As for my wings, your father asked me to retain human form.”

  Her father sent him? Now that surprised her. Made sense her dad didn’t want a flying lizard upsetting the locals. She’d worked hard to negotiate peace talks with the Salhi. The nations beyond the United Regions collectively known as the Fringes had disintegrated into an unruly assortment of warring religious and political factions. The sight of Oltu flying around would incite hysteria even in the Salhi. They needed to do this the hard way.

  Okay, do this!

  “If I stand up...”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  His voice dropped. “Do not move. Humans approach. I will deal with them first. Then shift.”

  “Wait! It might be my protection detail.” Gabrielle’s hopes rose. Cale would have survived the al-Doziyen’s assault on her meeting with the Salhi—he always survived—and if Colonel Cale Tennant could move, he’d be out looking for her.

  “They are not UR. Stay quiet.” He disappeared out of view, every move dislodging more rock and dirt.

  Her heart plummeted. How could Oltu be sure they weren’t friendlies?

  Heck. Why was he even on Earth? Surely not to save her—like some damn knight in lizard armor—she’d only been missing a few hours. Last she knew Oltu was back on Katar.

  Gabrielle dug her nails into the sandstone rock.

  How’d he even find her? The Qui had superior tech, but she hadn’t heard his ship, no vibrations in the air. She shivered, dehydrated, the cold of last night etched permanently into her bones. Perhaps her rattling teeth gave her away. Or the horny bastard lizard had her scent stuck up his nostrils, probably tracked her like a damned bloodhound. God, she hoped not. Either way, Oltu had accomplished what UR Search & Rescue had not. She could be gracious, swoon in his arms, and let nature take its course...

  Over her dead body.

  Gabrielle looked at the green valley below and grimaced—hoped she hadn’t tempted fate—and then spotted movement in the distance; a ground vehicle rounding a corner before disappearing out of view.

  The al-Doziyen looking for her smashed and broken body?

  They’d spot her from below. Where the hell was Cale? He was supposed to be her rescue, not Oltu, except Cale would chew her out for climbing to a place where she needed rescue. Well, he’d try to chew her out. She and Cale Tennant went way back, and he’d never stopped indulging her craziness, always there for her.

  Until he wasn’t.

  “Gabrielle. We have to go.”

  She started. Falling dirt marked his approach. He got closer this time, but not close enough. He scanned the cliff face.

  “What’s happening?”

  “More from the Fringes approach. I cannot deal with them until you are safe. I am secure here. I can hold you. Give me your hand.”

  “Can you tell if they’re al-Doziyen, or the Salhi? Did you kill anyone?”

  “They are not forces of the United Regions.”

  Goddamn. She couldn’t risk Oltu slaughtering the Salhi. She needed to identify the approaching forces. Heck, she needed to get up there and gone.

  Gabrielle shifted around to better stretch out and the heel of her boot dislodged a section of the rock ledge. Hysteria threaded her veins. Last night she’d been lucky.

  Her luck just ran out.

  She hugged the cliff face and sucked in a breath, released it slowly, trying to gather the courage to move. Rock rose above her, the few feet to relative safety looking more like fifty. She heard Oltu moving, rock falling. Fingers appeared in her peripheral vision.

  “Gabrielle. Take my hand!”

  Urgency roughened his gruff alien accent, his voice breaking through the thumping whoosh in her ears. He spoke like he knew her closely, like he cared, but it was the desire to live that forced her decision. Gabrielle reached for his hand. More dirt showered her hair and she squinted to protect her eyes. Belated terror reduced her stretch. Frustration brought tears, helping to wash the grit away.

  “I can’t reach you.”

  “Skal!”

  Gabrielle blinked her eyes clear, and found Oltu hovering in front of her, wings beating the air to stay level with her position, looking pissed, colder and harder than she’d seen him.

  “You have placed your life in jeopardy.” Oltu’s bass voice thrummed with rebuke.

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  God, he looked stunning. Oltu wore the human face from his first visit to Earth, although the prominent planes of his features hinted at the harsh reptilian ridges he displayed in Qui form. His blue-gray skin sporadically shifted back to his natural reptilian scaling and he possessed swishing
almost-black wings that snapped a furious beat. Lizard-shaped eyes held a black diamond pupil on a sea of green fired with gold-blazed impatience. Desire flooded her loins and the prick smirked.

  “You need to get closer.” She’d no idea how she sounded so calm.

  “My wings are too big. You must jump.”

  He was right. The rock walls that had protected her overnight now hampered rescue. She eased into a crouch, her rock ledge crumbling at the edges, a long fall between them. Oltu’s smirk turned to a frown. He looked about to speak, but then his gaze shot up. The accelerated flap of his wings channeled a whirlwind around her and Gabrielle glanced down—a mistake. Her stomach swooped with terror.

  “I will catch you.”

  His snarl tightened the vice around her chest.

  A single gunshot forced her decision. She pushed forward, slipped as the ledge collapsed under the pressure, and yelled, a scream cut off when an arm wrapped around her waist and squeezed the living breath out of her. Oltu’s spiced scent filled her nostrils. Gabrielle wrapped her arms around his neck, an act of self-preservation, and glimpsed several bearded men racing to join a single man targeting them for a second round.

  Al-Doziyen.

  A sudden drop left her stomach somewhere behind her. She distantly heard a second gunshot. They weren’t exactly falling, but their flight was erratic and spiraling towards the ground.

  “What is it? Are you hurt?” she yelled.

  Oltu didn’t reply. Instead his skin roughened, and she felt his body thickening, bulking into his natural form—his lizard form. Gabrielle struggled in his arms, revulsion drowning out rational thought. The alliance between the United Regions and the Qui Empire was too recent to overcome her instinctive fear of his alien heritage. All pretense of Oltu’s humanity disappeared in his full shift to Qui.

  “Stop fighting me!”