Ella and the Emperor (Alien Abduction #5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Ella and the Emperor

  Alien Abduction Book 5

  Honey Phillips

  Copyright © 2019 by Honey Phillips

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

  Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons (bookcoverscre8tive.com)

  Edited by Nikki Groom @ Indie Hub Editing services (www.indiehub.co.uk)

  Chapter One

  Emperor Karthajin, Supreme Leader of the Kaisarian Empire, Defender of the Nine Gods, Chosen of Napisten, and Ruler of the Crystal Throne, was restless. He had dismissed the two courtesans assigned to pleasure him, gotten rid of the musicians playing soothing music in the courtyard outside his bedroom, and sent the rest of his personal staff scurrying off. His guards had been firmly instructed to stay outside the entrance to his suite. And then he did the one thing he was never supposed to do and went for a walk—by himself.

  The Imperial Palace was riddled with secret passages, most of them known to his guards, but a select few that were known only to the Royal family. He followed one of them now, pausing occasionally to utilize the hidden viewpoints to observe the areas he passed. It wasn’t necessary, the entire palace was under surveillance and he had access to as many of the feeds as he cared to watch, but he found that he could pick up on subtleties through real-life observation that were missed on video. It was late at night and most of the palace was quiet but there were still some signs of activity.

  He saw Lady Arkanta locked in an embrace with the much younger, and recently mated, Prince Csalo. Shaking his head, he moved on, hoping that Csalo would see through her advances before he lost both his new consort and a considerable amount of his inheritance. At the observation point overlooking the Water Gardens, he saw two of his commanders huddled together and talking intently. That was considerably more interesting since they took diametrically opposed positions in public. The fact that they had chosen a location where the noise of the water would muffle any attempts at audio surveillance indicated a desire for secrecy. He made a mental note to mention it to Fleet Admiral Gernagan, his chief military advisor.

  Nothing further drew his interest and he was rather disgruntledly considering returning to his rooms when he heard a muffled cry. He checked the viewpoint and saw that he was bypassing one of the corridors outside the slave quarters. At first, all he could see was the horned head and heavily muscled, brown-furred back of one of his guards. The guard moved back, his hands going to his uniform pants, and Karthajin could see a second guard. The other man was holding a small figure who was struggling wildly, but to no avail, against the much larger guard. One hand was over his victim’s mouth and even as Karthajin watched, he dropped his hand and swore.

  “The little bitch bit me.”

  “Hold her legs,” the first guard demanded. “I don’t care if she screams, I don't want her kicking me again.” He grabbed for her pants with one hand and hauled out his cock with the other. The sight of the swollen appendage approaching the tiny female overcame Karthajin’s shock. His vision went red with rage. He had his hand on his knife and was through the panel in a fraction of a second. He slit the first guard’s throat before the guard even knew he was there, and he had his knife at the throat of the second guard while the man was still gaping at his companion.

  “Drop her,” he ordered.

  The guard’s eyes widened as he recognized Karthajin. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” The guard dropped to one knee as he released his captive, but Karthajin kept his knife at his throat. The small female, surely little more than a child, scurried free. To his surprise, she didn’t immediately run away but huddled close to his side. At least she had the sense to choose the side not holding the knife.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded of the man kneeling before him.

  The guard’s eyes shifted and his massive horns atop his head twitched. “She’s only a slave and she’s outside the slave quarters. We were just having a little fun before we took her back.”

  “Fun?” The red haze over his vision intensified. “By raping a child half your size?”

  Before the guard could make any further attempt to defend himself, a portly man came running up. Karthajin vaguely recognized him as Gatarro, the master of the household slaves.

  “Ella, are you all right?” Gatarro was so focused on the girl that he didn’t notice Karthajin at first. The girl didn’t respond, merely curling into Karthajin’s side and clasping his robe with small trembling fingers. Gatarro gave her a puzzled look, before frowning up at Karthajin. As soon as he recognized him, he paled and dropped into a deep bow.

  “My humble apologies, Your Imperial Majesty. I was so busy searching for the girl that I didn’t see you.”

  “Why is she out here alone and unprotected?” Karthajin demanded.

  “She doesn’t mean any harm, Sire.” The man sighed and shook his head. “She just likes to go and visit the stables at night. I was making my final rounds when I noticed that her bed was empty.”

  He gave the girl a half-exasperated, half-fond look and shook his head. “I think she’s a little… simple. She doesn’t seem to understand what could happen to her.”

  The girl gave a watery little sniff and he looked down, seeing her fully for the first time. She was tiny, her head barely reaching his chest, and her small frame lost in the ill-fitting slave uniform. Beneath a short mop of curly blonde hair, she had a small, pretty face with a pointed little chin and a pink bow of a mouth. Enormous blue eyes looked up at him worshipfully, tears still sparkling on her lashes. The combination of her vulnerability and the trust in her eyes tugged at him, and he patted her hand soothingly.

  “It’s all right, child. You’re safe now. But you can’t go wandering around the palace at night. Do you understand me?”

  She made a distressed sound but didn’t protest. The guard kneeling before him shifted and he had to fight back another flare of rage at the reminder of what the bastard had intended. He used his communicator to send for his personal guard before turning his attention back to Gatarro.

  “You will ensure that this does not happen again.”

  “Yes, of course,
Sire. It’s just…” The man hesitated.

  “Well, what is it?”

  “Ella is surprisingly capable of disappearing. This is fourth time it’s happened.”

  Karthajin frowned down at the girl. “You must not do this again. I want your promise that you will not attempt to escape, or I will have you locked up.”

  She gave another distressed sound and clutched his arm. He hated to see the fear in her eyes and would have preferred to reassure her but forced himself to keep a stern expression.

  “You must promise—”

  “If Your Imperial Majesty will forgive me,” Gatarro interrupted. “She can’t promise you because she doesn’t speak.”

  “What?”

  The man’s voice dropped, and he forgot himself enough to lean forward confidentially. “No, Sire. She hasn’t spoken since she arrived. Her former owners were killed rather, um, unpleasantly.”

  The small figure at his side trembled, and driven by an impulse he didn’t entirely understand, he put his free arm around her and tucked her against him.

  “As a result, we don’t know if she was ever capable of speaking. But she’s an excellent slave,” Gatarro added hastily. “Very obedient and willing. She’s no trouble at all.”

  “When she’s not escaping,” Karthajin said dryly.

  “She’s not trying to actually run away. She always comes back.”

  Surprised that Gatarro would be so protective of a troublesome slave, he opened his mouth to question him further when the sudden clatter of hooves interrupted. His chief guard Warnax and two more of his personal guards rushed down the corridor. Like all his guards, they were Bukharan, and at the sight of their massive furred bodies approaching, Ella shrank even closer to him.

  “Your Imperial Majesty, what happened?” Warnax’s nostrils flared as he saw the body of the dead guard and the second guard, still on his knees before him.

  “Two of your guards attempted to rape this child.” The rage in his voice was clearly evident and Warnax cast an appalled look at the two guards.

  “I am deeply ashamed, Sire. I will take care of this unworthy yujucado immediately.”

  He hesitated, reluctant to give up his prey, but in the end he nodded. An emperor should not be seen exacting punishment on someone so far beneath him. “Very well.”

  Stepping back, he waited while the two guards accompanying Warnax hauled the reprobate away. Warnax cleared his throat. “Sire, may I ask how you came to be involved in this unfortunate event? Without your personal guards?”

  “No, you may not. Just thank Napisten that I was here.”

  Ella was still clinging to his arm and he gently disengaged her hand, surprisingly reluctant to remove those small, delicate fingers. She didn’t move away, only stared up at him with enormous blue eyes.

  “You must return with Gatarro, child.” He frowned at Gatarro and then Warnax. “She is not to be touched or harmed in any way, by my direct order. Make sure everyone in the palace is made aware. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sire.” They both bowed, although he could see Warnax giving the child a puzzled look. Gatarro only looked relieved.

  “Very well. Since I have no doubt you will insist on accompanying me, Warnax, let us return to my rooms.”

  As they moved away, he couldn’t help but give a quick glance over his shoulder at Ella. She was staring after him, a pleading look on her face, and he had to fight down the impulse to go back to her. But Gatarro had already stepped up beside her, and he had duties to perform. He suppressed a sigh with the ease of long practice and returned to his role.

  Chapter Two

  Despite a restless night, Karthajin was awake before dawn as usual. His sleep had been haunted by dreams of big blue eyes and a pretty, innocent face. Pushing the memory aside, he sighed and stood up. A pot of cafir was waiting for him and his training uniform was laid out, but he was alone. His personal servants had long ago learned not to disturb him in the mornings.

  With a soft knock, a door opened behind him and even before he turned, Karthajin knew that Tanaca had entered. Tanaca was the most senior of his personal advisors, and the least likely to approve of the events of the previous evening.

  “You’re early, Tanaca,” he said tiredly. “We’re not scheduled to meet for another hour.”

  “Yes, Sire. However, a problem seems to have arisen.”

  He turned to face his advisor. Tanaca looked as cool and remote as usual, his tall, lean figure austerely clad in a plain black tunic and pants. The severe color suited him, setting off his pale blue skin and striking white hair. Tanaca had been his grandfather’s advisor, and his father’s, although he doubted his father had ever bothered to meet with him during his brief reign.

  “What is this problem?”

  “You seem to have acquired an unexpected… visitor.”

  That was not the complaint he had expected. “And?”

  “No one seems quite sure what to do with her. It appears that you have given orders regarding her treatment that prevent the usual methods.” A flicker of something that could have been distaste, or amusement, crossed Tanaca’s face.

  His pulse gave an unexpected leap. “Ella?”

  “I was not informed as to the young female’s name.”

  “I don’t see who else it could be. Very well. Since I appear to have created the issue, I suppose I must resolve it.” He kept his voice light and amused but pulled on the training uniform with unusual haste before indicating to Tanaca to lead the way.

  Ella was huddled in a corner of an anteroom leading to one of the private audience rooms. He was amazed that she had gotten that far without any interference. She looked scared but determined as she stared up at the ring of guards and servants gathered around her. Seeing her there, alone and surrounded by unsympathetic faces, he had a sudden memory of the day his father eliminated the First Consort’s rooms, moving his mother out of the rooms she had lived in ever since they had been joined. She had tilted her head just as defiantly, but her lips had trembled as well.

  When Ella caught sight of him, she jumped up and ran to him. The servants were too startled to react and the guards too uncertain about touching her, so no one stopped her. As soon as she reached him, she flung herself into his arms. He found himself patting her back, enjoying the feel of her warm little body a little more than he should. He eased away a fraction. “Hush, child. Everything will be fine.”

  “Has she been here all night?” he demanded of Warnax.

  His chief guard gave him a rather helpless look. “You said she was not to be touched, Sire. How did you want us to remove her?”

  Karthajin stared down at the small figure. It would be simple enough to rescind his order, but it seemed wrong somehow. By saving her, he had taken on responsibility for her, and he found it wasn’t something he was willing to relinquish. He hadn’t been able to help his mother, but he could help Ella. The slave quarters were obviously not suitable—he would just have to keep her with him until he could make other arrangements.

  “I’ll handle it. You are dismissed. All of you,” he added when no one moved. At the tone of his voice, there was an immediate rush to the outer doors. Warnax took up position there with another guard, while Tanaca paused long enough to raise an eyebrow and confirm that he should leave. Karthajin gave him an impatient nod and he bowed and departed, as unruffled as ever. Once they were as alone as they were going to get, he gently held Ella away from him. She looked up at him trustfully, her eyes as wide and blue as he remembered. “Well, child. What am I going to do with you now?”

  Ella stared up at the Emperor. In all the time she had spent on Kaisar, she had never seen such a handsome man. Short, dark hair curled around the small black horns on his forehead, a striking contrast to his deep red skin. A precisely cropped beard accentuated his strong jaw and sensual lips. Red sparks flared within black eyes, but she was used to Kaisarian eyes and took comfort in the familiarity. She barely reached his chest, but his size only made her feel
safe and protected, so different from how she had felt surrounded by those hulking guards. She shuddered as the memories of the previous night surfaced once again and tried to dive back into his arms.

  He sighed but let her nestle against him. He felt so good—big and warm and hard—and she felt safe, just as she had last night. It was that feeling which had led to her slipping out as soon as Gatarro had drifted off to sleep while he was supposed to be watching over her. Her previous night-time excursions served her well and she made it as far as this room undetected, before finding a pair of guards and a locked door. It had taken all of her courage to enter the antechamber and take up a position as far away for them as possible while she waited for him to appear.

  She knew she was taking a chance. The alien couple who had purchased her had been historians, and once they realized that she was capable of learning, they had taught her to read and write basic Kaisarian—although she had extended her studies much further than they had ever realized. She had read enough Kaisarian history to know just how much power he wielded. He could easily have had her punished, or even killed, for her presumption, although she couldn’t believe that the man who had protected her last night would do such a thing.

  Now he held her away again, his expression stern but not frightening. She bit her lip and waited for him to scold her. She knew she deserved it. Once again, she had acted impulsively. Her owners had admonished her about her rashness often enough, but Momi always gave her a hug afterwards and Popi always had a twinkle in his eyes, no matter how severely he lectured her. The thought of them brought more tears to her eyes.

  “There’s no need to cry, Ella. But why are you here?”

  She knew the words wouldn’t come out, but she tried her best. “Sss…”

  It was the first time she’d tried to speak since those first dreadful days after her owners had died and she was appalled at how her voice sounded—low and hoarse and uncertain. Instead of growing impatient at her attempts as the others had, the emperor only nodded encouragingly. She cleared her throat and tried again but the word was still almost unintelligible. “Sssaff.”