Alien Appetite: A Krinar World Novel (A Hot Alien SciFi Romance Book 3)
Author: Josie Walker
Date: 2019-08-26T18:30:00+00:00

I do not pick her up to carry her because

I do not trust the small thread of restraint that I am exercising. Only the fact that I can not risk my men seeing her naked keeps me from ripping her clothes off and taking her right here and now.

Her body is for my eyes only. Finally, we reach our chamber. I open the door and pull her inside. The bed is too far away, so I slam the door shut with one swift motion and back her against it.

I jerk the tunic over her head and then I push the leggings down to her feet. She quickly steps out of them as I bend to my knees and nuzzle the soft curls between her legs. She gasps with pleasure when I flick my tongue against the small nub hidden in her delicate folds.

She shivers against my tongue as I nibble and lick her, worshipping her mound with my mouth. She screams as the ultimate pleasure rips through her. I don’t even wait for her release to subside before I stand.

“You are so beautiful,” I tell her.

Of course she doesn’t understand anything I say to her, but still I want to tell her of her perfection.

A Krinar World Novel

Alien

Appetite

By Josie Walker

Books by Josie Walker

The Order Of The Bear Series:

Something Shifter This Way Comes

The Secret Lies In The Shade

The Advent Of The Witch

From The Shadows A Psychic Will Rise

Shapeshifter Love Series:

Panther’s Mate

Panther’s Mark

Leopard’s Claim

Bear Allegiance Series:

Paws & Surrender

Claw & Relent

Growl & Embrace

A Hot Alien SciFi Romance Series:

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Infatuation

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Entanglement

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Appetite

A Paranormal Holiday Romance Series:

Christmas With Her Unicorn

Easter With Her Bunny

Halloween With Her Vampire

Parallel Dimensions Series:

My Savage Alien Rescuer

My Fierce Alien Warrior

Stand Alone Books:

Ghost Lover

Copyright Page

Copyright © 2019 by Josie Walker.

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law, except for brief quotations used in reviews. For permission requests, contact the publisher, at http://www.josiewalkerbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The author of this book has been granted permission by Anna Zaires and Dima Zales to use copyrighted charaters and the world of The Krinar Chronicles created by Anna Zaires and Dima Zales in this Book; all copyright protection to the characters and the worlds of Anna Zaires and Dima Zales are retained by Anna Zaires and Dima Zales.

Editing by C. J. Borntrager

ISBN-13: 978-1-948831-30-7 (Print Version)

ISBN-13: 978-1-948831-31-4 (Ebook Version)

Sophie gets more than she bargained for when she unwittingly rents a haunted house . . .

Get this ebook free when you signup for my newsletter at www.josiewalkerbooks.com

Contents

Teaser

Title Page

Copyright Page

Free Ebook Offer

Books By Josie Walker

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

Author’s Note

Sample Chapters For My Savage Alien Rescuer

CHAPTER ONE P.D.

CHAPTER TWO P.D.

Hang Out With Josie On Social Media

Other Books By Josie Walker

Book Blurb

Tessa is beginning to regret her impulsive decision to sneak aboard an alien spaceship. She’d wanted to keep her best friend safe and enjoy a nice interstellar getaway free of charge. But everything goes to hell when an unknown race aliens crashes her space vacation and kidnaps her along with a group of terrified Krinar females. They seem more like robots than aliens, with bodies covered in an impenetrable layer of thick cold metal, yet they’re shape is still humanoid.

One of the aliens in particular seems to be very interested in her. She’d tell him she was flattered but no thanks if she thought he could understand her words. However the only sounds he makes are like clicks and glass breaking, which means they have a lot more than a language barrier standing between them. So much for her useless high school Spanish class! He seems to want her, but what if he wants to use the weapons he has of hands to skewer her? Or is he motivated by hunger of an entirely different nature?

***This is not a standalone book. So if you missed books 1-2 you can catch up on the beginning of Sarah’s story here: http://josiewalkerbooks.com/index.php/alien-infatuation-a-hot-alien-scifi-romance-series-book-1/

CHAPTER ONE

Tessa

I jerk awake. It’s pitch dark and I can’t see anything. For a moment I’m totally disoriented. Where am I? My neck hurts from this lumpy pillow. Why on earth is it moving?

The word “earth” triggers something in my subconscious, and that’s when it all comes flooding back. I’m not on earth. I’m on another planet. The pillow is actually my friend Eclipsa’s foot and she probably doesn’t appreciate me sprawling all over her.

But it’s not like I can just move somewhere else more comfortable, because I’m not in bed. I’m hiding with six Krinar in the narrow space between two walls, hoping the alien attackers don’t find us. We don’t have much of a plan beyond trying not to get killed. On the plus side, at least it’s a simple strategy.

Right about now I’m totally regretting my impulsive act of stowing away on the Krinar spaceship. At the time it seemed like the thing to do. My best friend, Sarah, had told me she was going on an extended vacation with her new husband, Vorek. I’m naturally suspicious, and so I couldn’t resist some snooping. Boy did I put my nose in things!

I discovered that Vorek was actually a Krinar, one of those ultra-powerful aliens that had invaded earth years back. Their fictitious honeymoon had really been a trip through space to explore Sagren, a new planet in a previously undiscovered galaxy. I know it sounds like I’m making this crap up, but trust me, I’m not that creative.

Of course, I couldn’t resist when the opportunity came for me to sneak on board a real life spaceship! I never said I was all that bright, and the whole curiosity-killed-the-cat-thing never made me rethink my actions like it should have. In hindsight, I probably should have taken up a harmless hobby, like knitting.

At the time I told myself that my rash behavior was due to the fact that I didn’t trust Vorek. I’d wanted to protect Sarah from what could be a threat from this particular Krinar. All of that was true. But it wasn’t the whole story. You see, I couldn’t resist the grand call to adventure.

Exploring another galaxy? Are you kidding me? That’s the material that great sci-fi books are made of! Maybe if I’d liked my boring life more I’d have been a little smarter about it all. But my life sucked and Sarah was the closest thing I had to family.

So, I’d stowed away on their spaceship. I’d avoided detection as long as possible, sneaking around and hiding, living off of the equivalent of alien power bars. By the time they discovered me, we were way too far into the journey for them to return me to Earth.

That one impulsive action may very well go down in the annals of my life as the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. It may also be my last big action, because it’s not looking like I’m going to be alive much longer. And it had all been for nothing!

It turned out that Sarah was never in any real danger, at least not from the alien. Her husband, Vorek, dotes on her. He wasn’t the big bad Krinar I’d feared. He was smitten, a man hopelessly in love. Anyone with eyes could see that he would do anything to keep her safe.

And as for my epic adventure, well up until this point things had actually been pretty dull. Since I’m the weak human on board, I haven’t been allowed to go and explore Sagren like the others. All I’ve been able to do is stare at it from inside the dome, which is akin to living life vicariously through watching television. I’d wanted so much more.

But I can’t argue their logic because, compared to them, I am weak. I’ve been told the Krinar are all pretty much impervious to disease and injury. Even Sarah got some kind of sci-fi nano injections to make her more bad-ass like them. She’s Vorek’s charl now, whatever the hell that means.

I’m the only plain-Jane human on board. Feel free to queue the world’s smallest violin—I know I deserve it. Sarah and Vorek, and most of the other Krinar, went off on an extended exploration of the planet a while back. No matter how much I begged and pleaded to go, I got shut down. They refused to put me at risk.

Did they think I’d sue them or something? I wouldn’t—not even if I had the money to hire a sleazebag lawyer—which I didn’t. It’s not like anyone knew I was here with the Krinar! What were they worried about when the only consequences involved the death of one pesky little human?

All of my arguments had achieved nothing, and I’d been trapped behind in the dome with nothing to do. Each day passed with more excruciating boredom than the last. It wouldn’t have been so bad if everyone had been stuck inside with me. I’d always been one to want what I couldn’t have. I was jealous, plain and simple.

Thank goodness for my new friends in the geological research team. I share a room with them, and they’ve been welcoming from the get go. I’ve honestly never met a nicer bunch of ladies.

We’re nothing alike, but we get along perfectly in spite of our differences. They’re Krinar while I’m human. They’re science nerd types, while I barely passed chemistry 101. They didn’t even want to go with the survey team and were totally content here in the dome doing all of their experiments. Meanwhile, I’d been going stir crazy.

Maybe I’d have felt differently if I’d had something useful to occupy my time. But I had nothing to contribute, because I wasn’t prepared for life as a space explorer. So, I read, and exercised . . . which at least seemed quasi productive.

I’ve always been pretty strong, but my daily three to four hour workouts have transformed my body by impressive degrees. It also helped use up some of the pent up energy rattling about inside of me. My routine was simple. During the day I worked on strengthening my mind and my body in the hopes that they might stop seeing me as useless.

And at night I hung out with my roomies as soon as they finished working. I don’t make friends easily, a problem I attribute to a childhood spent in the foster system. I was never in one place long enough to put down roots or make lasting connections.

That all changed when Sarah and I became roommates. She was the first person I ever had a meaningful connection with. She is the closest thing I have to family, which makes me fiercely protective of her. Of course, sometimes love makes people do stupid stuff . . . like venture into outer space.

When Sarah left with Vorek and the others to explore the terrain I’d been both lonely and bored. But my new roommates had welcomed me with open arms. I jumped right into their circle with both feet. I knew perfectly well that they didn’t have to be so nice.

I was the human interloper who’d stowed away on their ship. I was the dumb one who didn’t know how to do anything useful. They never complained at all that making a spot for me in their apartment made them a bit more crowded. They never commented about how I ate their food, but did nothing to help with their research.

They acted like I was one of them, which made me feel like my little family was expanding yet again. They taught me a lot of their card games. My favorite is called Planks, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I love spending time with the girls.

It’s like a slumber party every night in the apartment we share. At least it was until we were attacked by aliens. The horrifying noises the monsters make haunt my dreams. Some of it sounds like words, but in a language I’ve never heard before. Most of it is metallic clicks, scraping, and chattering though. It’s all very unnerving.

The day the aliens invaded the dome they were searching everywhere, looking for any inhabitants. You’d think I would have been the weak link. But I’d finally stumbled across something I was better at than the K’s—survival.

My Krinar friends were frozen stiff, and no one was taking any action. That’s when I realized that even though I’m the puny human, I’m the only one here who has actually had to fight to stay alive. I grew up neglected in the foster care system, so I learned early on to take care of myself. No one else was going to look out for me.

I never wanted to be the leader, but in that moment I saw that if I didn’t take charge there was no way we were going to make it out alive. They were like scared little rabbits, but they didn’t even possess the fight or flight response. They weren’t moving.

The aliens were coming and my new friends were scared stiff. I came to the realization that these geniuses, the ones I’d envied for their brains, were actually cowards. I’d thought they were the A team, but the A team was all out exploring the jungle.

These guys were the backups, the fraidy cats that were too scared to leave the dome. Crap on a cracker! Up until that moment they’d been my babysitters, but I realized quickly that it was time for me to step up. Our lives were on the line, and immediate action was needed.

I recognized that there wasn’t a leader among them. They were Krinar alright, but not the strong, aggressive kind. These were the average ones, the docile ones, the ones that hid behind the strength of their more powerful kin.

Their pampered lives had prepared them for lab work, not war. Lund is the only male in our group, but he’s no fighter either. He’s in charge of housing and maintenance. Basically he’s a glorified housekeeper. Before I got to know them I thought all Krinar were supposed to be strong and fierce, but now I’m realizing that they come in as many shapes and sizes as humans do.

Thank God I made Lund snap out of his stupor long enough to come up with this hiding place. That’s why we’re here crammed behind this wall like a bunch of monkeys in a barrel. I have no idea how much time has passed here in the dark with barely enough room to move.

What I do know is that we’re about out of water. I’d acted on impulse when I’d had everyone load up in the cafeteria. My quick thinking has kept us all alive up until now. But we should have rationed better, because if we don’t get more water soon we’ll die of dehydration.

I hear a stifled, dry cough and pass Eclipsa my water bottle. I don’t know if it will help, because all it has left in it is a couple of drops. She’s trying hard not to cough. I’m afraid if the aliens are anywhere near, they’ll hear her.

I reach over to my other side and shake Lund, waking him up. I can’t put this off any longer.

“Lund. Open up the wall. I’m going out to get more water.”

“Tessa, no. You can’t go out there!” Xairia gasps through her parched throat.

“If we don’t get water, we’re all going to die,” I state bluntly.

Lund isn’t happy about it, but he manipulates the nanos to form a door. He knows from my time as a stowaway that I’m probably the best one for this job. I scan the room carefully. It’s night-time, and it’s empty so far as I can tell. So far so good.

I step out cautiously. I don’t trust my body to move too quickly as I make my way to the cafeteria. I feel pins and needles in my feet. I’ve been stuck in one position for far too long, and the lack of food and water has left me feeling weak. But I have people counting on me, and I’m not going to let them down.

I unzip the front of my jumpsuit. I don’t have a backpack, so my clothing will have to serve as a makeshift bag. I tug the refrigerator open and start shoving cold water bottles inside. Initially I flinch at the drastic temperature difference, but then I learn to welcome it because it actually feels good on my hot, sweaty body.

All too soon I’m out of room. I’d like to take more, but I can barely get the zipper closed. I grab some snack bars at the last second and spin to head back to our hiding place. I try to be quiet, but the glass water bottles are clanging against each other inside my clothing. Why can’t the Krinar use plastic, like the rest of us, I wonder in frustration.

I’m almost back to the supply room when I hear that sound that we’ve all come to associate with the aliens. It’s like metal rubbing on metal. Crap! What should I do? I spin around, but they’re not in sight, yet. I weigh my options. I don’t want to lead the aliens back to my friends, but they’ll die if they don’t get water.

Too bad both of my options suck. Since I don’t see the metal heads, I can only hope they’re not onto me. It’s probably just a random patrol. Or maybe they are nocturnal, and they’re going to the cafeteria for a snack. Do they even eat the same food as us?

Maybe they can smell my rank B.O. and to them it smells as yummy as a roast that’s been simmering away in a crock pot all day. God I hope that’s not the case. One thing’s for sure, I don’t have time to stand around deliberating.

My eyes dart down the hall one last time before I sprint into the supply area. If I can just get behind the wall before they come this way, we should be safe. They’ve been in this room before and didn’t detect our hiding spot.

“Lund! Hurry!” I whisper outside the secret panel.

It instantly opens and I climb in, spinning around to fit into the tight space. The first clue I have that my jumpsuit has come unzipped is when the water bottle falls out and crashes to the floor outside the wall. It’s kind of hard not to feel like the universe has it out for me lately.

“Shit!” I toss the snack bars to the floor inside the wall and reach out to grab the glass shards, which slice neatly through my palm. So maybe that was a dumb idea. Dehydration doesn’t exactly bring out my inner smarts.

I cradle my hand, resisting the urge to call out in pain. The broken water bottle is just going to have to stay where it is. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it will dry before anyone notices it.

Since I’m already frolicking around in the land of dreams I get even wilder with my unrealistic hopes. Who knows, maybe my own personal prince charming will show up on the scene and chase all the bad guys away and carry me off into the sunset. Apparently blood loss makes me even more sarcastic and pathetic than usual. My stupid hand is throbbing.

Lund closes the secret panel and I hold my breath. The walls aren’t all that thick, and I can hear the aliens enter the room. Funny, I used to think of the Krinar as aliens, but now they’re my friends. As for these metal heads . . . well something tells me there’s nothing friendly about them.

I can hear myself and the rest of the B team breathing, and I just pray that the wall is muffling the sound. I hear heavy footsteps thumping closer and closer. Then they stop right in front of me on the other side of the wall. I really, really want to believe that it’s just a coincidence, but I’m too much of a realist for that.

The water! Tessa you idiot! They’ve seen the water!

One of the girls on my left whimpers, and I grab her wrist, hoping to quiet her just as a bone jarring thud slams against the wall in front of my face. I hear more whimpering from others in our group, and honestly I’m about ready to break down myself. I flinch each time the sledge hammer sound hits the wall in front of me.

The pitch black of our hidey hole is breached by pinpricks of light that enter where the wall begins to break down. Should we start running, or rather slithering away? Maybe if I stay behind as a decoy everyone else can find a new hiding spot.

My ear-piercing screams are every bit as loud as the others when, with the next blow, a fist-sized hole breaks open in the wall in front of me. I continue to shriek and after several more blows the hole is the size of a small window. That’s when I get my first terrifying glimpse of our attackers.

Robots? What the hell! The aliens are actually metal robots? The one directly in front of me is a polished silver color and uses a trident shaped spear to peel the pieces of the shredded wall aside. He reaches a hard, metal hand in to pull me toward him. I try to resist but I’m no match for his strength.

I stumble out into the room, knowing that this is the end for me. I find a minute portion of relief in the fact that since they’re robots I won’t have to worry about them eating me. They’ll probably just kill me and be done with it.

I stand as tall as my petite, five foot five frame allows, and pretend to be brave. I’ve always been a scrapper, and I am determined to go out fighting. I see two more robots coming for me, and raise my fists. The enemy is made of metal, and I don’t know what possible harm I can inflict with my bare hands and feet, but I’m going to try.

Fighting isn’t foreign to me. I had lots of practice when I was younger. Unfortunately, I don’t even have on shoes to cushion the blow when I kick them. But I have to try. If it means I get to live, I can certainly deal with some bruised or even broken toes.

I growl in what I hope is a menacing way and raise my fists at them. The alien robots say something in their strange language. Clicks and rasping sounds, mixed with what has to be words. Of course I don’t understand any of it, but they seem to be arguing with each other and, for the moment, they’re ignoring me.

The one who pulled me out roars at the others and shouts something that sounds like DAS GAHMEN with more clicks than consonants in the mix. He pushes them away with his trident. They yell back, but with a bit less intensity than him. Tension fills the air as they all face down the trident guy, and then they back off.

Looks like Mr. Trident is the head robot. He looks at me intently with his iridescent blue eyes, and I’m about ready to pee my pants I’m so scared. He lifts my arm and I flinch and try to pull away but it’s as futile as trying to fight my way out of a pair of vice grips. He looks at my bleeding hand, then picks me up and carries me across the room.

He may be a robot, but he’s certainly been fashioned to resemble a man. He’s like a bulkier, more savage version of C-3PO from the Star Wars movies. I’m like a coiled spring, ready to jump away or start fighting at the first opportunity.

But he’s not giving me the chance. He sets me down on a table and turns to grab a towel from a stack on the counter. His metal hand holds the towel against the gash in my hand, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

What the hell? Is he actually tending my wound? I don’t know what to make of his strangely charitable behavior. Shouldn’t he be busy crushing my fragile skull?

He seems to have lost all interest in the destructive chaos around us. My friend’s shrieks pierce through the fog that has enveloped my brain and my attention is ripped from my captor back to the chaos that fills this room. I look at the other robots who have gone back to their continued destruction of the wall. Why didn’t my friends try to run while the robots were busy fighting over me? It’s like they have no sense of self-preservation!

The metal creature with a chainsaw arm has cut a line through the wall high at the top. Another alien has wicked spikes around his wrists which he uses to dig into the wall, removing a chunk at a time. A mammoth robot with a massive hammer instead of a left hand strikes at the wall with a relentless rhythm.

The pounding of my heart matches the staccato beat of his blows. Every robot except the one tending to my hand is wreaking havoc on the wall of nanos. I’m not a structural engineer, but even I can see it’s about ready to go down.

A particularly huge piece is ripped off revealing Eclipsa. Her terrified cries mingle with the others as the rest of the wall crashes down and one by one my Krinar friends are yanked from the hiding place.

“Run!” I yell at my friends. But my advice comes too late, and they’re too cowardly to act on it anyway.

I’m expecting carnage, but the metal attackers seem to be treating everyone pretty gently. I’m astonished. That all changes when they pull out Lund.

All hell breaks loose. Five of the metal monsters converge on him, screaming and yelling. Something about Lund is making them ballistic. One of them shoves him hard and his head strikes the wall with a loud crack that pierces through the rest of the noise.

He looks stunned but still conscious as they force him into a chair. One of them pulls Lund’s arms behind his back. Another one presses a button on his inner arm and silver wire shoots out. He wraps it around Lund’s wrist, then secures him to the chair with more wire.

They’re all screaming at Lund, and he tries to communicate with them, but no matter how many different languages he uses, they can’t understand him. It’s obvious that just like me, he hasn’t a clue what they’re shouting at him. My captor presses a clean towel to my palm, and I look at him. I mean really look at him. He’s a bright silver metal. I have no idea if he’s truly a robot or if he’s a flesh and blood alien in armor. There is a black mesh material where the pieces of metal plating join. This must be what allows him to move so fluidly. I see now that the trident weapon isn’t actually part of his arm because he’s set it on the table next to me.

He’s studying me, so I lift my head to look at him. He stares unblinkingly with eyes unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Iridescent blue orbs look into my hazel eyes. I unflinchingly meet his alien gaze as the tears begin to leak from the corners of my eyes. We are so screwed.

***

We’ve been prisoners for days, but none of us have been injured. Well, except for Lund that is, but they haven’t hurt him since their initial confrontation. They even released his ties after a few hours. We’re being watched, but so far we’re free to move around and help ourselves to food and water.

The aliens brought in a bunch of weird looking plants, supposedly for us to eat, but for now we’re all sticking to the packaged food that we know is safe. I don’t know how many of the metal heads there are total, but there are always a couple dozen guarding us. They rotate in and out so it’s not always the same ones.

Last night the trident man left for the first time since we’d been captured. I’d been relieved. There’s something very unnerving about the way he stares at me.

Eclipsa, Lund, and I are sitting at one of the tables in the cafeteria, quietly running through our options, or lack of them. I’m pushing for an escape, but surprise, surprise . . . they think that would be too risky. We stop discussing it when we’re joined by Nokey and Xairia. Nokey used to make me laugh with her quirky opinions, but she’s turned serious and introspective ever since the invasion.

“Have you noticed how interested they are in all of you women?” Lund asks.

“I have,” Eclipsa agrees. “Trident Man has hardly left Tessa’s side. They’re all pretty gentle with us, but you get nothing but glares and hostility.”

“Yes,” Nokey says as she begins to analyze this. “Their tones are dulcet and calm when they try to communicate with us, but not with you, Lund.”

“Yeah. And the blankets and pillows they brought in made it much more comfortable to sleep here in the cafeteria,” Xairia agrees.

“I was shocked when they threw that pile of clothes on the table yesterday,” Eclipsa says.

“Yeah, me too,” I agree, as I glance down at the jeans and shirt I’m now wearing. The material is thin and they’re soft, faded with age. There are rips at the thighs, and I’m not sure who they actually belong to, but they’re not covered in dried blood like the jumpsuit was, so I’m thankful for something clean to put on. “Too bad they didn’t include underwear.”

“Who wears underwear?” Nokey jokes, sounding a little bit like her old self.

“That hammerhand one keeps bringing me strange food to eat. It’s weird,” Eclipsa says.

“Why haven’t Vorek and the expedition team tried to rescue us?” Xairia whines.

“They will,” Lund says confidently. “I’m sure they know something’s up. I haven’t checked in with them on our communicators in days. Rest assured they’re coming up with a plan as we speak. We should just hang tight and wait for them to come. Unlike us, most in that group have fighting skills. Dorn and Preen are unbelievably fierce warriors.”

“I can’t bear the thought of Sarah or the others being injured trying to save me,” I say miserably.

“Vorek will keep her safe. She is his charl, and I’m sure—”

Eclipsa’s words are cut short when we hear what has to be gunfire coming from somewhere in the dome.

“What did I tell you?” Lund says excitedly.

“Yes,” Xairia exclaims. “It must be Vorek and the others coming to rescue us!”

All of the metal men in the room start yelling. The strident tones of their alien language are horrifying. A loud chattering fills the air, and as one they rush toward us. Before I know what’s happening they’ve used metal wire to bind our wrists and ankles. I struggle against my restraints and watch helplessly as they use the wire to tie Lund to the chair again.

They’re screaming at him, as if they expect an answer. Over and over he says he doesn’t understand, but obviously they don’t care because they don’t stop shoving and yelling at him. It quickly escalates and one of the aliens uses his hammer arm to strike a blow to the side of Lund’s head.

I scream in outrage and try to stand, but I don’t get far with my feet bound. One of the metal heads grabs me from behind. I’m not giving in easily, and when a second one reaches down and grabs my legs, I kick with both feet into the only place I think may do some damage . . . the black mesh between his legs.

I thrash my body like a maniac, kicking and screaming as I trying to get away. An authoritative roar fills all our ears, and everyone, including my attacker stops what they’re doing. I look to the doorway and see that it’s Trident Man who has gotten everyone to stop.

They are all silent as he enters the room at a run, shouting what must be orders in his abrasive alien language. I am instantly dropped to my feet, and the other two step away as Trident Man rushes toward me. The air whooshes out of my lungs as he slings me over his shoulder and my belly slams into his metal armor. He holds my legs tightly with one arm, gripping his trident in the other.

I struggle, kicking and screaming upside down as I try to escape his iron grip. I twist my torso and have a disorienting upside down view of the cafeteria as I’m carried out the door. I watch in horror as, just like me, each of my friends are plucked up and slung over a metal shoulder.

My screams blend with theirs as we are all carried out of the room. Before I know what hit me, we’re outside. I don’t even have a mask on, let alone a protective suit. I try to hold my breath but eventually I give in and take a ragged breath.

I’m finally getting what I wanted, but it’s not how I envisioned it. I’m outside the dome on Sagren, but I’m a prisoner and it’s not at all exciting. I crane my neck to look around my jailer’s body and that’s when I see it . . . a black alien spaceship!

I’m a single insect in an angry swarm of metal aliens running for this miniature sized spaceship. I begin to struggle again, even though I know it’s futile. Even if I could get loose, there’s no way I could escape. We had no idea there were so many. There must be at least a hundred of these humanoid robots. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. We’re all going to die and it’s my fault. Why didn’t I just stay on earth where I belonged?

CHAPTER TWO

Tessa

As soon as we are all inside, a heavy metal door slides into place. We are crammed into a space that was obviously never intended to hold this many. It’s like being in a crowded elevator where people keep shuffling in, even though it’s already past capacity.

All those days trapped in the wall must have raised the limit on how cramped I have to be before I start feeling claustrophobic though, because the feeling never arrives. I’m still upside down with my stomach digging into a metallic shoulder when I feel the shuttlecraft lift. Then with a sonic boom it shoots up into the air like a rocket.

I tense, fearful I’ll fall on my head. My stomach roils. It feels like I’m riding upside down and backwards on a wild roller coaster. Then the shuttlecraft jerks to an abrupt stop. I swallow down hard to avoid throwing up. Is that all? Am I on his planet now?

My captor slides me back over his shoulder, and holds me in front of him as the trident seems to magically flip itself around and attaches somewhere on his back. The metal door of the strange vehicle opens and he’s the first one out. We all file out into a large bay. This must be the main spacecraft. The other must have been like the Krinar’s mini spacecraft that they use as shuttles for short distance travel.

My own personal robot still hasn’t let go of me. Now he’s making that loud chattering sound I heard earlier. What’s more, I can actually feel his chest rumbling. Creepy.

Then he shouts what I can only assume are orders at the others, given how the other aliens jump instantly to do his bidding. So, is he in charge, I wonder? His trident does kind of remind me of the king in the Little Mermaid so I guess that makes sense. Of course, he doesn’t have a crown so maybe I’m wrong.

Alarms are going off and it’s a beehive of activity—a very, very cramped beehive. The robotic aliens are all scrambling around. I search frantically for my friends as everyone files out of the smaller shuttlecraft. I don’t see everyone, but before I can have a full blown panic attack another of the small X-shaped shuttlecrafts flies in and docks in the bay. As the occupants unload I’m relieved to see a few more of the Krinar females.

They’re all still alive. For now anyway. I’d wave, but that’s impossible since my hands and feet are still bound. Finally the alien loosens his grip around me. I consider trying to bolt from him, but where would I go? I don’t know how to fly one of those little shuttle crafts, assuming I even made it that far.

Besides, my friends are being held captive too, and even if I could escape I wouldn’t leave them. I turn to survey my surroundings. Given the size of the docking bay I can only assume we’re inside of a much bigger ship. The walls and floor are comprised of silvery glass panels and we have a clear view of Sagren’s surface just below us.

My breath catches in my throat when I see the glowing light of the dome. How can something seem so close, yet so far away? Then before I can even register what is happening I feel another jolt and almost lose my footing as the floor beneath us shifts.

There is a brilliant flash outside the windows that hurts my eyes to watch. We must have jumped to their equivalent of warp speed or something like that. I am, of course, basing everything I see on sci-fi movies. And to think I’d thought my love of Star Trek would never amount to anything useful!

Sagren has just . . . disappeared, and the constellations around us are frighteningly unfamiliar. I’ve never been a huge fan of science, but something tells me this is a whole new galaxy. As abruptly as it started, the feel of the ship changes once again, like an amped up version of what happens to your stomach when an elevator first drops.

We have slowed down to a different speed. I’m so freaked out that I’m starting to hyperventilate. I sway uncertainly on my bound feet, afraid I’m going to pass out and land on my face. Trident man reaches out and touches my arm. The metal wire turns to a cool silver liquid, and drips down my wrists.

I really hope that wasn’t mercury, because that stuff is dangerous. I’m instantly free to move my hands. I shake out my fingers and then the rest of me starts shaking too, except this is an involuntary reaction. I’m freaking the hell out.

Then he leans down and with a touch of a metal finger causes the wire on my ankles to melt down my feet. I look up at him, too stunned to move now even though I’m free. I’m completely out of my element here. There’s a scared little girl voice on a perpetual loop in my head shouting, “I wanna go home.”

My friends’ terrified voices jerk me out of my stupor. I twist around to see them being dragged across the room. They’re still bound hand and foot. All five of them are struggling and screaming at the top of their lungs except for Iceree.

The poor Krinar looks almost catatonic. She’s not fighting at all. She just lays loosely in her captor’s arms and stares listlessly in front of her.

I think the other robots are trying to undo everyone’s restraints, but my friends don’t understand what’s going on so they’re struggling. Honestly I feel like kicking and screaming myself, but since my Krinar buddies are all losing it big time I’m going to have to remain strong for them. The best part about being a leader is that I don’t have time to focus on my own panic attack. Eclipsa is the closest to me, so I try to get her attention.

“Eclipsa! Calm down! Get everyone to quit fighting!” I call out.

She has a confused look on her face, but she has stopped thrashing around and is looking in my direction. I raise my hands to show her that they are free. “Let them undo your restraints!” I shout

Eclipsa convinces the others to stop fighting, and soon their arms and legs are also free. It’s not much, but it’s a start. The Trident man says something in his harsh guttural language that sounds like VASTU, whatever the hell that is. Then he’s pointing his sharp tipped weapon toward a hallway.

I look back at my friends. They’re trembling in fear, and honestly I think I’m every bit as afraid as they are. But I try not to let it show. I learned from a young age not to let the bad guys see my fear. No matter how scared I was I would stay strong for the others.

“VASTU!” he barks out again.

I don’t understand his language, but it’s clear he wants me to go with him when he starts pulling me by the arm. My initial reaction is to dig my heels in and resist, but when I see the other robots are bringing my friends too, I follow him through the corridor. He stops in front of a metal door that looks like an elevator.

Two shiny silver panels slide open, and I see that I’m right. It is some kind of elevator. We are all herded inside and, it’s a tight squeeze, but we fit. The doors slide shut and I feel an airy sensation in the pit of my stomach as we momentarily lose gravity. I don’t see any buttons, but we’re going up all the same.

The robot releases my hand and I move to huddle in the back with my friends. We link hands to share our strength. Of course Iceree doesn’t join in the group hug. She’s no longer bound, but she’s still lying limply in her captor’s arms. Whatever is going on inside of her head can’t be good.

The doors slide open and we’re herded out into an open area. Trident man says something that of course we can’t understand. We look at him blankly, and he says it again and louder. Why do people always assume that yelling is somehow a magical translator?

“KAAY-K’AH!” he shouts, pointing. I take that to mean we are supposed to sit. There are enough metal chairs and tables to accommodate all of us, so I sit down and my Krinar friends follow my lead. All except Iceree, who needs help. Her alien lays her down gently on a chair and she doesn’t so much as blink.

There is a large viewing window that my eyes are instantly drawn to. Pinpricks of light from an infinite number of stars and the vastness of space surrounds us. Is it wrong of me to acknowledge the breathtaking beauty of it all? Probably.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“I have no idea,” Eclipsa replies with a stunned look on her face.

“But you’re Krinar! And you’re all scientists!” I argue. “You should know what all the different planets look like! Don’t you have that implant thingy in your brain that makes you equivalent to a computer?”

“Tessa, we’re in a place that the Krinar never knew existed. Our people have travelled the known galaxies, but there is no record of these formations,” Eclipsa says.

“What!” I gasp. I’m stunned. We’ve been taken somewhere so far away that the Krinar don’t know about it. “Are you sure?”

“She’s right,” Xairia agrees. “I received extensive data on astronomy before we left Earth for Sagren. I just double checked my database. The Krinar have no record of this place. We had no knowledge that these metal monsters existed,” she reiterates.

“More aliens,” I mutter disbelievingly. I’d just gotten used to the Krinar. I so wasn’t ready for more another species.

“They must be taking us to their home planet,” Eclipsa announces.

“And it’s so far away Vorek and the team will never find us,” Ronja wails, tears escaping her eyes.

“Stop it! We are not giving up hope!” I interject, before the despair can overtake us all. “They will find us. We have to believe that.”

“But ours was a scientific expedition, not a military one,” Xairia argues. “Even if they could find us, our team doesn’t have the weapons to fight them. And the ship we came to Sagren in was dismantled to make the dome. It will take hours to convert it back to a spaceship, and that’s assuming the damage from the fighting wasn’t too extensive. And I think we’re already light years away from Sagren.”

“I agree with Tessa,” Eclipsa interjects. “We need to keep positive; we will be rescued. It probably will take a while because they’ll need help from Krina, but the council will not sacrifice us to these monsters. They’ll come for us.”

“Yes! You’re Krinar for God’s sake. You conquered Earth before we even knew what was happening,” I remind them.

“Tessa is right. What are these metal monsters compared to the Krinar?” Ronja says with newfound courage.

“Tin barbarians,” I agree. “They don’t stand a chance against the Krinar. We just have to keep it together until they come rescue us.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out just exactly what they are,” Eclipsa says.

“They’re freaking metal robots. That’s what they are,” I say.

“Maybe. But if they’re robots, where are the people who control them?”

“I think they’re conscious robots, like the ones in the terminator movies. They probably took over their planet and killed all the living people. So, no one’s controlling them. They’re the ones in charge.” Why did I have to watch so many sci-fi movies?

“Thanks for that cheerful thought,” Xaira says, then we all shut up when a group of the robot beasts walks toward us.

One of our captors sets a heavy platter in the center of our table. It’s piled with their alien food, the same stuff that we had been avoiding the whole time we were held captive in the dome. There will be no more prepackaged food here, so eventually one of us is going to have to be the guinea pig.

A robot with one metal hand, and a dagger on the end of his other arm uses his hand to pick up a piece of the fruit, which looks like a purple banana. He shoves it toward Eclipsa. She shakes her head in terror, and backs away. After she refuses it, he turns and tries to give it to me and says something indiscernible.

“Not hungry,” I say and shake my head no, leaning away from him and his lethal looking dagger hand.

He gets louder and is starting to make a scene about it when the trident man notices what’s going on. “DAS GAHMEN!” he shouts at the other robot, and holds his trident up in a threatening motion. For some reason trident man seems really pissed at him. Dagger man takes a step backward, but is still hovering close to me.

The trident robot holds out his weapon and yells something else as he jabs it angrily toward the other robot who finally backs off slowly, and moves to the end of the table. He’s still staring at me with his freaky, red glowing eyes though, and it’s creeping me out. Mr. Trident picks up a purple banana and tries to hand it to me himself. Like that’s supposed to make a difference?

“KAAY-K’AH,” he says in his guttural tone. I look around the table at my friends. I notice that tears are leaking down Iceree’s face, letting me know she’s more aware of her surroundings than I thought.

The robots are really being insistent about this, and one of us is going to have to try the food eventually if there’s any hope of us being alive when our rescuers finally come. “We can only live so long without food,” I sigh, admitting defeat.

“Tessa, no! It might be drugged, or their food might be poison to us,” Xairia gasps, horrified that I’m even considering eating it.

“There’s no way to know without trying it,” I sigh as I gingerly take the purple thing from his hand before I can change my mind.

I treat it with all the caution one would grant a poisonous snake. I struggle to open it. The outside has a tough shell that I can’t break through. I whack it on the side of the table, thinking that might pop it open, but that doesn’t work. I have no tools, so I stick the end in my mouth to see if I can pry it open that way.

Mr. Trident takes it from my hand. A sharp blade slides out of the tip of his finger and slices the fruit open. Well, that’s handy . . . I guess. He hands me the inside portion, which does indeed look like a banana, only in an unnatural lavender shade.

“KAAY-K’AH,” he repeats as I take it.

“It’s been nice knowing you,” I tell the girls as I take a bite and begin to chew. It’s actually good, I realize as I take another bite.

“KAAY-K’AH,” he nods his head excitedly as I finish it.

“Well girls, that was some tasty ca ca . . . or whatever he called it. Don’t worry, it may be named after poop but it doesn’t taste like excrement. If I don’t die, I highly recommend it. It tastes like a banana, only sweeter.”

I pull another off of the platter, and hand it to the robot to open. He seems excited that I’m eating. Only time will tell if he’s excited because he’s succeeded in poisoning me, or excited because he’s trying to keep me alive for some yet unknown purpose.

He opens all of the fruit on the platter with his handy finger blade, and gestures toward it, encouraging everyone to eat. Everyone stares at me, panic shining brightly in their eyes. I don’t feel any ill effects, so eventually when I don’t pass out or die, I slide the platter toward my friends.

“Dig in. I’m officially declaring the purple bananas safe,” I say as they each take a piece. That went pretty well, so I decide to try another experiment. Iceree doesn’t eat not even when we try to help her.

“It does taste like banana,” Eclipsa agrees.

“I’m going to walk around the room and see what they do,” I tell my friends as I stand up. “If we’re going to be here awhile it will be good to get an idea of our boundaries.”

I stand and push my chair back. The robots that are hovering around our table have their eyes trained on me, but they don’t do anything to stop me. So, I stand slowly.

When they don’t make any threatening moves I maneuver around the dagger one and take a step toward the wall on the far end of the room. The entire thing is like a huge window panel. My eyes focus off into the distance at the vastness of outer space.

This whole situation is so hellishly bizarre that suddenly nothing seems real. The floor appears to tilt and I have a rush of vertigo and stumble slightly as I walk toward the window. The robot with the dagger hand, reaches out his other hand and grabs my arm. I realize that he’s probably just trying to keep me from falling, but I don’t like him touching me.

“Leave me alone!” I holler, jerking my arm back.

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“DAS GAHMEN!” the one who always seems to be near me roars. I hear a sing of metal on metal as his trident slides from the scabbard behind his back, and is held menacingly in front of him.

Shit. He’s going to kill me! I realize too late that walking around the room must not be allowed. I scream as he rushes toward me. Just when I’m sure I’m a goner, I realize it’s not me he’s attacking but the dagger hand robot by my side.

Dagger hand roars back just as loud, and the hand that was just on my arm morphs into a dagger as well. I jump back and watch in horrified fascination as he kicks the trident, pushing it away from its path toward him. He’s taller than trident man, and he raises both arms preparing to plunge his daggers into the other robot’s metal skull.

Trident man bends down in a surprisingly agile motion and uses the trident to trip the larger robot off his feet. Using the trident like a spear, he raises it high and plunges it into the belly of the other robot. It easily pierces the black mesh material between the metal plating, the tongs sinking to the hilt.

He quickly jerks it back out and lifts his arms overhead holding the weapon high, ready to stab the other robot again, but it’s clear that won’t be necessary. The dagger hand robot lies on his back, not moving. The red laser eyes become dull, as if a light bulb has been turned off behind them. That’s when I notice it. A puddle of blood forms underneath his body, and runs toward my foot.

Blood? He’s bleeding? Wait . . . how can that be? Robots don’t bleed.

CHAPTER THREE

Sarah

Vorek slips into bed, waking me up. He leans over and plants a kiss on my forehead. I smile, but don’t move. I’m not sure if it’s the pregnancy hormones making me lethargic, or if our lovemaking from earlier wore me out. Whatever the cause, I’m in a sleep coma and I don’t want to leave it.

“Sarah, wake up. We need to talk.”

I ease open one eye and glance at the time displayed on the wall to see that I’ve only been sleeping a few hours. It must be something important, or he wouldn’t have woken me. After we made love he was emphatic that I rest. Learning that he is going to be a father has certainly brought out his overprotective side.

“What’s wrong?” I ask sitting up to face him. “Is it time for us to go after Tessa and the others?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. We were able to make contact with the council on Krina. When the metal heads left, whatever jamming device they were using must have been disabled.”

“That’s great news,” I say excitedly. “Does the council have ideas on how we can track them down?”

Vorek bites his lip and it suddenly occurs to me that I’ve never seen him do that before. Is he nervous? Suddenly I’m an anxious ball of nerves. Whatever he has to say must be bad.

“Sarah, I have direct orders from the council,” Vorek begins ominously, brushing a strand of hair from my face before tucking it gently behind my ear.

I hold my breath, knowing I’m not going to like whatever it is he is about to say. Now we’re both chewing on our lips. I dig my nails into my palm and try to brace myself for his update.

“And, I want you to know that I don’t like their orders anymore than you will.”

“Vorek, what is it?” I’ve had it with all of the pussy footing around. It’s time to rip the band aid off.

“I have been forbidden to follow the alien’s mother ship.”

“What?” I explode. “Vorek! We have to go after them! Every minute we wait they get farther away! Tessa and the women from the geological team are in mortal danger. We can’t abandon them!”

“Sarah, I know that, and it kills me to let them down, but I have direct orders.”

“But . . .”

“I am so sorry, my charl. I agree with you completely, and it tears me up not to go after them. But, the council has very valid points. Our party is small, and we are not equipped for war. And equally important in their eyes is the fact that we have five pregnant females in our party. They will not risk you or the other mothers to be. Something on Sagren has made the impossible possible. We don’t know what it is on this planet that has allowed all of you to conceive. Five Krinar babies . . . it’s unbelievable. We have been ordered to depart for Krina immediately.”

“What?” I ask, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Sarah, you have to realize the importance of this discovery. You know my race is plagued with infertility. The council is informing the Elders as we speak. There is no question that they will side with the council.”

My heart sinks in my chest. I am so torn. I don’t want to put all of our babies at risk, yet I can’t imagine the terror that Tessa and the others are going through. “There’s nothing we can do?” I ask, my voice quivering.

“No. We are forbidden to follow.”

Defeat weighs heavily on me. I feel as though I’m abandoning my friends to die. Angry tears course down my cheeks, and wracking sobs choke in my throat. I want to continue arguing, but what is the point?

Who would listen to me? I am only a charl. The council is the highest level of authority on Krina, after the Elders. The council has spoken, and we must comply.

“Those monsters have my friends,” I wail. “And no one is going to even try to rescue them?”

“That’s not what I said. The council told me they will plan a rescue mission from Krina, Sarah. They will use all of their resources to find the women from the geological team and Tessa. But our team won’t be part of it.”

“Do you trust them to do this?” A spark of hope starts in my chest.

“Of course I do. They will do everything in their power to find them. And we must do our part by leaving Sagren to protect the new lives, and bring hope for future generations. It isn’t safe here. We have no idea when the metalheads will come back.”

“When do we leave?” I ask, wiping my tears against my arm.

“As we speak, Aptar and Lewsha are initiating the protocols to deconstruct the dome. Then they’ll convert it back into a ship. Zalken is heading up a team to gather food, water, and air samples that we will take with us to analyze further on Krina. We will start our journey for the home planet today.”

Silent tears continue to leak from the corners of my eyes as I try to process everything. I want to save Tessa and the others. I feel so incredibly guilty. My friend never would have been in this situation if she hadn’t been watching out for me.

I’d argue more if I thought I stood a chance of changing his mind. But Vorek would never defy the council or the Elders, not even for me. Even if I somehow succeeded in convincing Vorek to hunt down the alien kidnappers that wouldn’t change the fact that we lack both the manpower and the resources to rescue them.

I sigh and place a hand on my stomach. Fear for the safety of my unborn child is at war with my loyalty to my friend. Regardless, I have no power in this matter. I am just a human charl, and I must concede to the authority of the council.

Vorek picks me up and carries me into the shower. It doesn’t matter that we were in here only hours before, because with him I’m always ready. When he starts tugging off my clothing I don’t try to stop him. I think that deep down he feels just as wretched as I do.

There’s only one thing that could possibly take my mind off of my misery, and that’s him. He turns on the water and I throw myself at him, our mouths connect and it’s as though I’m on life support and he’s giving me oxygen. My arms slide up around his neck and my feet lift up off of the ground when he carries me into the shower.

The warm water slides down our bodies, and it’s perfectly designed to come at us from multiple directions so not a single bit of my flesh is cold. Water can’t possibly wash away all the pain, but it helps numb it for a time. I don’t see him reach out to press the button, but I know he must have when I see the little shelf sliding out from the hidden recess in the wall.

He lifts me up and sets me down on the bench, putting my breasts at the perfect height for his attentions. Pregnancy has made my nipples so sensitive that when he draws one into his mouth I can’t help but shudder. I run my fingers through his hair as he continues to suckle me, and bit by bit the pleasure travels downward, igniting a heat deep in my core.

By the time I feel him nudging his cock towards my entrance I’m more than ready for him. He glides inside and we’re both caught up in a frenzied tempo as old as time. My body clenches down hard on his shaft as I come, and I can feel him pulsing deep inside of me. And I’m so overwhelmed that I cry.

I cry because of the pleasure. I cry in despair for my friends and their scary plight. And I cry because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. And all the while, Vorek holds me close to him. Thanks to the fact that I was raised in a cult I’m generally pretty standoffish to all things religious. But that doesn’t stop me from shooting up a quick prayer just in case.

“God, please protect Tessa. Please keep my friends safe from those aliens.”

I don’t realize I’ve spoken aloud until Vorek utters a soft, “Amen.”

Tessa

We are herded out of the space shuttle. It landed in an open area that is surrounded by unusual looking trees. Purple and magenta foliage let me know we are on a strange alien planet, as if I need any more reminders. I know I’m far from home!

The area is covered with tall grassy foliage that looks exactly like the exotic plants that were outside the dome on Sagren. The long blades gently wrap around my ankles and knees, but they release their hold when I kick my foot. Well, that’s freaky.

Since there are no days and nights in outer space, we’ve lost track of how much time has elapsed since our capture. We know it’s been at least a month now, since all of us have had at least one visit from Aunt Flo. While we stand there gawking, we are gently prodded to get us moving again. We follow our captors and walk around to the other side of the shuttle.

I’m busy keeping an eye on my feet. The crazy grass seems to be trying to trip me when Eclipsa exclaims, “Look at that!”

I turn immediately to see what she is talking about. The terrain is sloped and at the top of the rise in front of us is a walled city. The structures are made out of different colors of metal and the sun, correction . . . suns, reflect off of them like mirrors. The wall itself is mammoth, and the buildings behind it tower even taller.

The six of us stop dead in our tracks. We’re already freaked out by the fact that we just landed on a strange alien planet. But as if that wasn’t bad enough, now we’re being herded into an iron fortress. It’s even worse than the scary village in the 1970’s movie of King Kong.

Our captors are saying something in their guttural language. I can make out a few of their words now, like “VASTU,” which I think is something along the lines of, come here you human slave. I don’t recognize this new word, but the motions of their hands let us know that we need to keep walking.

I see metal aliens walking along the top wall of the fortified structure. It reminds me of a wall around a medieval castle. More aliens come out of what looks like guard towers atop the wall. We hear the strange chattering sound start up from the ones on top. The massive drawbridge is lowered as we walk toward it. I hear gears turning and huge doors open in front of us.

“That sound is really freaking me out,” Nokey says.

“Yeah, me too,” I agree.

I hear more alien chattering, but the volume has been turned up from a two to a ten. I look up to see that the top wall is now completely covered with aliens. I turn and look behind me to see if there’s any way we could make a run for it, but all of the metal men who were on our ship have formed a wall, herding us forward.

My ever-present trident man reaches out, putting a hand on my shoulder to guide me. It’s as if he’s reading my mind, and letting me know thoughts of escape are futile. I really, really hate these guys. I wish we spoke the same language so I could tell them off properly.

My friends and I walk through the door and my heart stops in my chest as we’re greeted by a sea of aliens. There are more of them than I can even begin to count. Every one of them is chanting and reaching for us. We scream and try to back up, but we’re pressed in on all sides.

Claustrophobia doesn’t begin to describe how I feel. Something’s bothering me, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Then it hits me. I haven’t seen a single female metal head. That can’t be good.

The trident man puts a hand on my shoulder, and thrusts his trident up in the air. Somehow he magnifies his voice, and the wild chattering stops, allowing everyone to hear his words. I know something is happening when the sea of metal parts, clearing a path for us to walk through. The trident man keeps one hand on my shoulder as we walk forward.

“Tessa, what’s happening?” Eclipsa says. “Did you understand anything he said?”

The only thing I could make out is DAS GAHMEN. He said that on the ship when any of the others would come near me.

“I’m starting to fear that I know exactly what that one phrase means,” I admit nervously.

“What?”

“She’s mine,” I answer softly.

Eclipsa gasps, when as though to verify my theory cold steel arms grab me around the waist. I’m ripped from my friends. I scream as I see them being restrained and carried in the opposite direction. But what scares me the most is the fact that I don’t recognize the alien who’s carrying me.

I look back expectantly towards trident man, but for once he doesn’t try to stop others from touching me. He says something to me, but I haven’t a clue what it means. I guess the bastard isn’t interested in me anymore. I’d be thrilled, but I’d rather have one admirer than thousands!

One of the aliens presses a strangely scented cloth to my face, and calm consumes me as I slump in their arms. Oh God . . . I’ve been drugged. Several sets of cold metal hands lift me up, and I am stretched out lying down on my back. I’m being passed from one set of hands to another.

It’s like I’m in a mosh pit at a heavy metal concert, I think as I’m passed over their heads. Their wild chanting adds to the dizziness. Whatever they gave me makes me feel like I’m having an out of body experience. Whatever happens, I can only hope it’s over quickly.

My disoriented thoughts slip over the series of events that brought me to this point. Why am I even here? I remember spying on Vorek because I was afraid for Sarah, then stowing away on the shuttle. I’m really regretting that impulsive decision right now. I sob as I think of Sarah, my best friend. What’s happened to her? Was Vorek able to keep her safe or did the metal heads kill her? Will I ever see her again?

Thoughts of Sarah make me worried for my other friends. I crane my head hoping to get a glimpse of Eclipsa and the others, but I don’t see them anywhere. How can I keep them safe if I don’t even know where they are? I ignore the more obvious question regarding how I can keep them safe when I can’t even save myself, because such thoughts aren’t worth dwelling on.

A wave of dizziness crashes over me, so I go back to looking up into the pale white sky. Silver clouds float above me as I slip from consciousness. And then . . . all is calm.

CHAPTER FOUR

Tessa

I have no idea how much time has passed, but the next thing I know I’m standing upright on a steel platform. No one is near me, but my legs are stretched wide, and tethered to heavy chains that are connected to the floor. My arms are also secured and pulled out to the sides with chains attached to tall poles. I struggle and scream, and see that the chains allow for very little movement. I can’t even sit down.

Something is weighing my neck down and I look at my chest to see that there are heavy strands of chains looped around my neck, but these are not restraining me. They seem to be decorative in nature, ornate jewelry fashioned from different metals. I see gold, silver, copper, and others I don’t recognize. I also feel the cool sensation of metal on my forehead and I think they’ve put some kind of headband or crown on my head.

There’s a sickening dropping sensation in my stomach and I realize my platform is rising. I scream in terror, and look around frantically for my friends, but I don’t see them anywhere. The higher the platform goes, the further I can see; but they’re nowhere in sight. The platform is soon towering about twenty to thirty feet in the air.

From this vantage I have a clear view of the flat expanse below. It’s shaped like a football field, complete with stadium seating which seems to be made of metal . . . like everything else on this freaking planet. Only the metal doesn’t look smooth. It’s rough, like a natural rock formation. Is it possible that the steel bleachers have been carved out like the face of a mountain?

Wait? Is this a sporting event? Are sports universal?

Every seat is taken. Oh my God. It’s worse than we could have imagined. There must be five thousand metal heads down there. They’re pounding their feet on the bleachers and the sound is terrifying in its intensity.

They’re all worked up about something. What? Something like football? I’ve never been big on sports, but I guess that makes sense, especially if they don’t have television. I need to know what’s happening! Why am I tied up?

And then a horrific thought occurs to me. What if I’m the sporting event? Am I going to be a human sacrifice? Did they bring us all this way just to kill us? That would explain all the chains. The better to tear me to pieces with!

I look back at what I’m dubbing the football field, and try to figure it out. It has walls around it, so the bleachers don’t go all the way to the bottom. There are some things attached high on the walls. They look like shiny versions of medieval weapons.

There appears to be only one of each type of weapon. I see a sword, a spear, a spiked ball and chain, a net, a trident, and a massive hammer with a spike on one end. Maybe they aren’t planning on killing me. Maybe it’s like a giant Tupperware party, but with weapons. Yes, I know how pathetic this last idea sounds, but can you blame me for hoping?

The floor of the football area is not empty. There is a platform in the middle, but there are also random sets of stairs and scaffolding that don’t seem to go anywhere. There are poles with chains and other structures. None of them seem to have any purpose. It must be for their alien game. There’s definitely no football in sight.

A whooshing sound below me catches my attention and I jerk my eyes back to the ground directly in front of me. A geyser of molten metal surges from a circle in the ground. The force increases, and it’s now pumping the liquid lava about ten feet into the air. Unlike water, the sound is heavy when it surges and slaps back down to the base of the . . . fountain. A fountain? They have a metal fountain? And why is it right in front of me? Shit! Are they going to melt me alive or turn me into some kind of gory statue?

Then a lone figure steps into the arena, commanding everyone’s attention. A solemn silence falls over the crowd. It’s the trident man. His entrance seems to be signaling something. He walks to the base of my platform and climbs up. He places his cool hand on my cheek and peers into my eyes with his ice blue ones.

“DAS GAHMEN, TSSS,” he says quietly for my ears only.

There’s that phrase again, just slightly different this time. I think it means, You’re mine. And what’s Tiss? Is he trying to say my name?

He places his trident at my feet and turns to address the masses. Something about the way this structure is constructed allows his voice to be heard as clearly as if it were amplified. He speaks in his alien tongue and I understand almost nothing of what he says, except for that one phrase, the one he always shouts when another alien dares come near me.

“DAS GAHMEN!” he shouts again, ending his speech. This causes a flurry of activity to overtake the crowd. From every quadrant metalheads start leaving their seats in the bleachers to make their way purposefully to the playing field. There are about fifty of them on the dirt in front of me now, surrounding the metal fountain, staring up intently. Trident man looks at me one last time, as if memorizing my face, then climbs down to join the others.

I reach my toe out and it bumps against the trident he left at my feet. Wait . . . why did he leave his trident here? He always has it either in his hand, or attached to his back. With a weapon maybe I can fight my way out? Of course, that’s assuming I can find a way down from the tower I’m currently trapped on.

My biggest fan joins the others at the ground, and they all walk toward a circular platform in the center of the football field. They stand around the edges of the platform in a row staring up at me. I can see each one of them clearly. Something odd strikes me. Weapons. None of them have their weapons.

Why is that? All of these aliens usually have some sort of weapon that’s part of their body. So what happened to them? Each of their hands is just that . . . a metal hand. There’s not a dagger, spear or chainsaw among them. It’s weirding me out.

My eyes jerk to the display of weapons hung high on the side walls. That’s when the revelation hits me hard, like a blow to the chest. This isn’t a field for sports; it’s an arena. These are gladiators. They’re going to fight. And if my suspicions prove true . . . well I’m pretty sure I’m the trophy they’re all fighting for.

A fog horn sound fills the air, ripping through me with the intensity of its volume. It’s the same sound we heard back in the dome when we were dragged to the ship by our captors. The metal men vault from the platform at the signal, sprinting toward the walls, each hoping to get their weapon of choice.

I note instantly that there are way less weapons than men. My eyes are drawn to the only alien I know and I see he’s on a direct path toward the trident. My breath catches as I realize there are a half dozen others running for the same weapon. It shouldn’t matter to me who wins, after all they’re all my enemies. But he’s the only one I know, and he did pick broken glass out of my hand and bandage it up.

The shortest one gets there first. He puts on a burst of speed and scrambles straight up the wall, grasping for the trident. His fingers fall a few inches short before he slides back to the ground. He jumps up again, trying to reach it, but without the running momentum he’s nowhere close.

An alien with grooved ridges on his head reaches the wall next. He grabs the shorter one by the shoulders and bashes his head repeatedly into the wall. The shorter one’s metal skull caves in flat, blood pouring from what used to be his face as the ridged-headed man tosses his unmoving form to the ground under the trident. I feel sick.

Ridge-head steps on top of the one he killed reaching up for the trident, but he can’t quite catch it either. He jumps up trying to grab it, but misses on the first attempt. He jumps again and is pulled from behind by a creature who is simply massive.

With a roar, the giant robot lifts the ridge-headed one high in the air and slams him down over his raised knee. The smaller alien’s spine snaps as he’s bent in half backward, then tossed to the ground like a pile of rubbish. I scream as my mind tries to comprehend the horror I am witnessing.

There’s a blur from the side and I see that the trident man is making his move. He runs flat out, leaping over the bodies of the two dead ones and climbs up the violent giant like rungs on a ladder. He jerks the trident from the wall and raises it high above his head.

The giant roars and raises his fists, knocking at trident man’s legs, trying to dislodge him. Trident man holds onto the enormous head with his legs, and slams the trident toward the top of his opponent’s head. But before the trident can connect with its mark, the giant manages to use a hand to swipe the smaller man off his shoulders.

Trident man tumbles to the ground, then instantly rolls away, barely missing a massive fist that slams into the ground, mere inches from where his head was scant seconds before. The behemoth monster leans over him and roars again, raising both fists, then jumps in the air. His fists are angled down as he prepares to crush his opponent’s skull.

My breath catches in my throat. Even my rough childhood has not prepared me for barbarity of this magnitude. I’m already mentally writing trident man off when things take an unexpected turn. The giant doesn’t see the trident’s spikes until it’s too late. The momentum of his descent drives the trident completely through his skull.

Blood gushes from the tines spearing his skull as he falls forward, still impaled by the trident that is now wedged into the ground by his weight. Trident man rolls out from under him, then jumps to his feet. He kicks the giant monster onto his side, drawing his weapon out from the lifeless skull with one slick motion.

I can’t believe the much smaller alien is still alive as he steps onto the dead body of the giant monster and raises the trident into the air. Blood and gore drip to the ground beneath him. He roars at the last three who are battling for this weapon.

One of them seems to have changed his mind about fighting. He rushes away, sprinting back to the stands to rejoin the spectators. That leaves two who want the three pronged spear. I see trident man’s attention is divided as he scans the field. I also spare a second to glance around the arena and see that similar battles for the other weapons have taken place. Almost all six of the weapons have been claimed, with just a few skirmishes still ongoing.

The two metal aliens are temporarily unified in their assault against trident man. He has the high ground, standing on top of the dead giant monster. But there is strength in numbers. They rush him, one from either side. His movements are so fast they are a blur. The handle end of the trident knocks the one on his right off his feet as the spear impales the one on his left. Before that one hits the ground he has jerked out the trident and shoved it through the skull of the other.

Mr. Trident has secured his weapon of choice. I allow myself to breathe. I don’t know why exactly, but I’m rooting for him to win. At least I know him, as much as anyone can know an alien!

He may have kidnapped me, but he has never been rough with me. I’m not going to delude myself by thinking he’s a peaceful little bunny rabbit given the fact that I just saw him kill those other aliens. But he’s had ample opportunity to hurt me and he never has so that has to count for something.

I have no idea about these other aliens. This is the first I’ve seen any of them. The battle has continued to inch on while I’ve been busy ruminating. The winners of the initial battle for weapons are making their way slowly toward the center of the field with their prizes.

A copper monster with tinges of green on his plating has the spear. A gold one, his front area molded to display the shape of pectoral and abdominal muscles swings the net lazily around as he walks. I don’t know why he seems so confident, compared to the others. His weapon sucks.

A steel blue alien holds the sword, slicing it in front of him, as though testing the feel of it. The massive hammer is held by an alien whose metal is such a dark grey that it almost looks black. A rusty iron-colored one holds the handle of his mace up, and swings it around his head in a circle, the chain pulled tight by the spiked ball on the end.

They seem to be pairing off to fight each other in a somewhat civilized fashion, if anything about this could be called civilized. It looks like there will be three simultaneous battles. The phrase from Highlander keeps going through my mind: “There can be only one.” That means five more aliens are about to bite the dust.

Not for the first time I wish there was some way off of my high tower. I’ve never wanted to go back home more in my miserable life than I did in that moment. But I’m trapped, and there’s nothing I can do but watch as the battle continues to rage beneath me. Trident man points at the gold one with the net and they stalk menacingly toward each other.

CHAPTER FIVE

Bocc-d’ar

The easy part is done. I have my weapon now. I feel no remorse over having slain the weaker opponents in order to claim it. They knew the risk when they entered the arena. The female is worth dying for, and we all know it.

I want nothing more than to glance back up at her and soak in her beauty, but I can’t risk even a second’s distraction out here on the field. I must stay sharp. I will win, and then I can gaze at her as long and as often as I want.

This next part will be harder, much harder. The stakes are high and each man wants the prize. But I’m the one who will be earning it. I must keep my wits about me as I face these mighty warriors.

It’s no coincidence that each of us remaining holds each particular weapon. Just like me they headed straight for their tool of choice. I know from experience that even a net can be deadly in the right hands. I don’t know any of these individuals personally, but I’ve heard of them all because of their reputations.

They’re mercenaries and assassins, and the female deserves better than that. I’m determined to save her. I will prevail over all obstacles, for I must. Failure is not an option.

It’s not that I am not afraid to die, far from it. But I can not bear the thought of one of these monsters touching my sweet TSSS, let alone claiming her. Her name plays through my mind like a beautiful song, TSSS. I heard the other females say her name on board the ship, and I have practiced saying it over, and over.

After all these years of being alone, I never dared to hope that I would have a mate of my own. Women are scarce amongst our people. The few that remain must be fought for in the arena. It’s a grisly battle ending in death for all save one. After all, only the strongest males deserve a mate, which is why the Ja-Karr was created. The Ja-Karr is the sacred battle for mating rights to a female.

Against all odds I have found TSSS, my mate. She is soft and weak, but she is beautiful. I sense such a fiery spirit in her, and I smell her fertility each time I am near her. My body throbs to claim her, but I have waited with patience the entire journey to my home planet, Meturgia.

I’ve waited until this day when I could make her mine for good. I follow the rules of Ja-Karr to the letter. That way no one will ever be able to claim I took her unjustly. Had I done something so foolish any man would have had grounds to try to steal her from me later. Only by winning this combat to the death will I be allowed to claim her. Then will she be mine . . . forever.

I look again at my opponents. I choose who I will battle first because of the weapon he possesses. I roar and point my trident at the gold contender with the net.

His name is Kay’nar, and he is sly, or so I have heard. He wins with cunning and guile. He’s also an assassin, so I will expect no honor from him. Perhaps he’s hiding a weapon somewhere under his ostentatious yellow plating. By the rules of the Ja-Karr only the weapons on the wall are allowed, and all personal body implants are to be removed. But I will proceed with caution, for to trust in the arena is to die in the arena.

“I will enjoy fucking your woman after I kill you,” Kay’nar taunts as we step in close to each other. “How was she? I’m sure you’ve sampled her a number of times.”

I ignore Kay’nar, refusing to rise to his barbs. I tune out the other opponents who are beginning their duels. I don’t need to be distracted by watching who will emerge the victor of each individual battle. I need only focus on defeating Kay’nar to start. I do not let his words get to me . . . not much anyway.

I raise my trident and roar in his face. This weapon is inferior to my own trident which I placed at my beloved’s feet. I did that so she would be certain I would return for her. But at least I have secured my weapon of choice. It will be sufficient. It is strong, forged from Roktar ore.

The horn sounds, signaling the start of this round. Kay’nar turns slightly and the light from the twin suns hits my opponent’s gold plating, temporarily blinding me. This was a calculated move, of course. He snaps his net high, and almost snags the end of my trident which I barely manage to jerk away. I jump back to reposition myself, narrowly avoiding the reach of his net.

“I will think of you when I place my baby in her soft belly,” he taunts.

His words make me want to rush forward, but I keep my wits about me. I refuse to let him goad me into doing anything so foolish. Something behind him catches my eye, and I see it is one of the small platforms that are scattered around the arena. This one has a tall pole stationed in the center. A sturdy hoop and chain at the top are attached to a heavy braided rope with a metal ring at the end. The stairs to the platform are on the other side.

I feign a movement to the right and he turns, reflexively sweeping his net to that direction, but I change rapidly and run around him on the left and up the stairs. He follows me, but I reach the top before him. I have the high ground, and I sprint for the pole in the middle, with him not far behind me.

I stick one arm through the metal ring, then grab tightly to the heavy rope with that hand. The iron grip of my other hand holds the trident. I sprint away from him, and propel my body up in an arc, circling around the pole, then back toward him.

Kay’nar lashes out with the net, trying to capture my feet. But his timing is off. Instead, I’m able to snag his net with my trident, pulling it from his grasp and tossing it to the floor of the platform. The momentum of my trajectory around the pole spins me around again. My grip on the trident does not waver as I plunge it into his chest, my body jerking to a stop with the impact.

He falls to his knees, and I hold fast to the trident, which is impaled in his heart. I let go of the rope as I drop to my feet, then push him onto his back and pull out my trident. His blood spurts high toward me from the wound, letting me know his heart is still beating, for now. The crimson river from his chest lessens, then stops as the amber light behind his eyes fades to a dull brown.

“The only children she carries will be mine,” I hiss over his dead corpse.

I drop to the ground, where I pick up the net. It’s mine now. I raise both weapons proudly over my head, roaring to the crowd. I now have the perfect complement of weapons, which is why I chose Kay’nar as my opponent.

I purposely do not look toward my TSSS, because I know she will distract me. I gaze over the field to see who my final two opponents will be.

R’ Kish, the swordsman, who is the same steel blue as his weapon stands tall. In his other hand he holds the long spear, which means the copper warrior is dead. Walking from the other end of the field I see H’K-em, with his heavy iron build. At his side is an enormous spiked mace on a chain. In the other hand is the mighty hammer, which means the dark one has fallen.

R’ Kish and H’K-em are worthy opponents, but I remain confident I will prevail. There can be no other outcome. I will not allow it. My TSSS needs me to protect her. I have sworn to do so, and I never go back on my word.

We study each other and the crowd is on their feet, stomping wildly. The air sings with the sound. This encouragement lets us know that they admire our bravery, and envy the winner his prize. It will be an honorable death, for my enemies.

They both rush me at the same time, which is definitely an underhanded move. They have probably planned this from the beginning. They think to take me out, then to fight only each other for the prize. H’K-em lifts his mace, swinging the ball and chain overhead. It just barely misses my head as I duck down and dodge to the side.

Of course, this puts me directly in the path of R’ Kish’s long spear which he jabs into my side. It is a grazing hit, not as forceful as it might have been, probably because he was holding the spear in one hand only. I’m injured and bleeding, but this will not slow me down. I won’t let it.

I must be more careful. My TSSS is depending on me. I back up to reassess the situation. I must use different tactics if I am to fight them both at the same time. I need to take one of them out quickly to even the odds. I decide to go for the swordsman first. His newly acquired spear does not perfectly compliment the sword, which is his primary weapon. He could throw it at me, but I don’t believe he will because then he would be short a weapon.

The spear is heavy, and better used by holding it with both hands in close combat. Also, he is used to the sword being implanted to his arm, but under the rules of Ja-Karr welding is not allowed. Having to hold the blade with his hand is awkward, and he’s not used to it. I will use this weakness to my advantage.

I myself have never grown lazy by melding my trident to my hands, so my grip is strong and sure on my weapon. I have fought often with a net in my other hand, so I am confident I will prevail. There is no other outcome I can accept in this matter.

With lightning speed, I leap toward R’ Kish. I swing my net overhead, and when he jabs the spear toward me it is skill, not luck which causes it to tangle in his spear. I tug fiercely as he stubbornly holds on. His sword slices into my shoulder and I hiss angrily.

R’ Kish’s eyes dart over my head. I hear a whir, and see a shadow on the ground, almost too late realizing that H’K-em’s iron mace behind me is arcing towards my head.

Acting reflexively, I heave harder on the net which causes the swordsman to stumble toward me. I duck and roll out of the way, which puts his head right where mine was a split second earlier. My enemy has met the fate intended for me, and it’s a gruesome sight.

Blood gushes from the hole at the top of his head where H’K-em’s spiked mace has obliterated the protective sheathing as well as the top of the R’ Kish’s skull. The swordsman is as good as dead, but his brain hasn’t caught up with his body and he continues to fight. He lets go of the spear which is tangled in my net, cupping a hand to his head to staunch the flow of blood. Then he stabs his sword into his former ally’s thigh. H’K-em doesn’t hesitate to retaliate, and drives the spike end of his newly acquired hammer into the top of the swordsman’s skull. His cranium splits like a ripe Hur fruit on a feast day.

That was the killing blow, and R’ Kish moves no more. There was no honor in that one, and I for one am glad he is dead. He was never worthy of my TSSS. Neither is H’K-em who dishonored their truce. H’K-em turns to me, and the blood from the wound on his thigh is camouflaged by his iron red form.

The iron warrior keeps his familiar weapon with the wickedly spiked ball, but sets down the newly acquired hammer to pick up the sword. He has assessed correctly that it is a better choice against my net. I kick the spear out of my way. I don’t want it either. I keep the net which is the perfect companion to my trident.

The blood flowing from the wound in my side is beginning to sap my strength, and the shoulder wound will cause the thrusts with my trident to be weaker. I switch the weapon to my other hand. My injured arm will have to suffice with the net. I must finish this quickly, while I am still able.

I roar again, which causes the crowd to go wild. H’K-em makes rapid criss-crossing movements with the sword, testing the weight of it which lets me know he is also skilled with this weapon. I sense immediately that he, like me, has never grown lazy by melding his weapons to his arms. I’d respect the hunk of iron if I didn’t already despise him.

Before H’K-em can prepare himself I launch myself toward him. He takes a step back, and stumbles, catching his weight awkwardly on his injured leg. It buckles and I swoop in with my trident, thrusting down for a killing blow. Too late I realize he was only faking as his sword slides into the bendable mesh at my elbow, the blade piercing upward into my biceps.

“DAS GAHMEN,” he taunts, obviously pleased that both of my arms are now running red with my blood. I step back and rotate my arm, testing my injuries. I hope the wounds are not too severe. I must not lose.

“DAS GAHMEN!” I roar back at him.

We pace around each other, jabbing . . . he with his sword, and me with my trident. All the while we circle our arms overhead . . . he with his mace, and me with my net. As we choreograph the moves of this dance I notice that he has a predictable habit. Every time his right arm thrusts with the sword, his left foot steps out to the side a second before.

I’ve found my opening, I realize. Or perhaps it’s another trick. I have no way to know for sure. I’ve lost a lot of blood, and I need to end this soon, before I pass out. I decide to test my theory. I watch for the tell-tale step to the left and immediately swing my net to capture the sword which thrusts exactly when I expect it to. I jerk hard and pull the sword from his grasp.

He swings the mace in a whirl around his head and slams it down toward my skull. Unfortunately the sword is still tangled in my net, so, I drop it while I duck to the side, out of the way of the deadly spiked ball which thuds into the ground instead of my head. Before he can recover I thrust my trident upward. It slides easily into the mesh area above his legs, and into his belly.

I’m sure it is a mortal wound, but I thrust the trident deeper and twist it ruthlessly. I’m not taking any chances. When I pull the trident out, he’s eviscerated. His guts spill onto the ground as the hot metallic stench of death fills the air. The ground is stained red with our blood when he topples over at my feet.

The stomping from the stands is deafening as I throw down my weapon. I beat my chest with my fists. The blood lust fills me and my shouts of victory blend with the crowd’s who are in a frenzy. “DAS GAHMEN!” I roar at the top of my lungs as I look up to my woman, my TSSS.

Her countenance does not appear delighted as I expected. Something is wrong with her. What is the look on her sweet face? Is she not pleased that I have prevailed? She doesn’t look happy. She looks . . . scared. And what is that smell that is coming from her? I want to smell her arousal, not her fear.

She’s fighting at the restraints and screaming. “MAHN STR! YEE RAWL MAHN STRS!” she shrieks.

The meaning totally escapes me. If only I could understand her strange language.

Tessa

He stares up at me with his unnatural blue eyes as the tower is lowered. He terrifies me. If he can kill his own kind so savagely what chance do I stand against him? In my heart, I know that I am right. He killed those men . . . all of them . . . for me. I am the prize. And now he owns me. I hate the way that makes me feel. Like I’m his possession, a pet dog or something.

Only, he’s not looking at me like a pet. The look he gives me is carnal. It makes me feel desirable. And my stupid body doesn’t even understand that this is a very bad thing. A rush of heat shoots straight to my core. I slam my legs shut, as though that might somehow stop the feeling.

This is insane. Was there some kind of aphrodisiac in whatever they drugged me with? I can’t be attracted to him. I will not fall for a metal barbarian. He’s not even human! And he’s filthy. I’m not talking sweaty from mowing the lawn filthy. I’m talking about the fact that he’s covered with blood and gore from all the men he just butchered. I refuse to be attracted to such a monster.

“Monster! You’re all monsters!” I scream as the tower starts to descend.

The platform reaches the ground, and a group of the metal men step onto it. Their chanting is driving me insane. They touch my restraints which melt away, freeing my hands and feet. I kick and scream as I’m picked up and carried forcibly from the arena.

“Let me go!” I shout, frantically trying to break free. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What’s happening? Where are Eclipsa and the others? Somehow I must escape and help my friends! But how?

I’m taken inside one of the tall buildings and carried up several flights of stairs. A door is flung open and I’m fighting them tooth and nail as they toss me on the bed. A bed? Seriously? I sink into the soft material and am astonished when they leave, closing the door behind them.

They didn’t chain me up again, which is one ray of sunshine in a very dark day. I scramble to the edge of the elevated bed, swing my legs over backward and climb down to the floor. No way am I going to sit docilely and wait for that alien bastard to come in and rape me. This particular human is not going down without a fight.

I run to the door and try the handle, but it’s locked. I look around the room, and notice there’s a window. I run over and lean out. My heart sinks when I realize how far below the ground is. I’m at least three stories up. I have a clear view of the arena from here, as if I need a reminder of what just happened. I slide my hands along the surface under the window and see that it’s smooth metal with not a single thing to hang onto.

The only escape out this window would be by suicide. I’m a fighter, so I don’t even consider it, no matter how desperate my situation is. I survived my childhood and I will survive this.

Think Tessa! I pace around the room searching for a weapon, anything that could help protect me from this barbarian. Everything in this freaking place seems to be made of metal. There is a table with food and drink. There are some of those purple bananas and some other things I don’t recognize.

There’s absolutely nothing to use as a weapon—especially not against a metal enemy. There’s not even any glass I could break to use a shard for a knife. The pitcher and goblets are made out of what looks to be silver. I slump against the massive bed in defeat. They’ve obviously done this on purpose.

A soft current of air ruffles my hair, and I look up curiously. A flicker of hope springs in my heart. Ductwork? There is a breeze coming from what looks like a vent in the ceiling above the bed. Is that the alien version of air conditioning?

These metal heads are such a mystery. In some ways they’re medieval barbarians with brutal hand-to-hand combat weapons, but on the flip side they must be technologically advanced. They have space travel after all . . . and apparently air conditioning.

The vent is huge, which leads me to hope that the ductwork would be large enough for me to hide in. But how do I get up there? The ceiling is at least fifteen feet tall. I see a metal clasp, so I think I could open it if I could get up there. I dart to the bed, and hoist myself back up onto it. Standing tall, I reach as far toward the ceiling vent as my five foot five frame will allow.

“Not even close,” I mutter as I step toward the massive headboard and begin to climb. The thing is ornate, and fortunately there are places I can grip to climb. I haven’t had shoes this whole time, and right now that’s a bonus. I grip the various knobby designs and indentations with my toes, scaling the thing. It’s almost like the climbing wall back at the dome that I used as part of my exercise regimen.

At the time I was just bored and looking for something to do, now I’m glad for the extra muscles I built, because it looks like I’m going to need them. I reach the top and take a moment to catch my breath as I analyze the vent from this closer vantage. It is indeed attached with a flat latch which slides to open it. I turn around with my feet on top of two knobby areas, one hand holding onto the top of the headboard with the other hand reaching toward the vent.

“Crap. Not even close,” I mumble, glancing toward the door. I’m afraid it will open at any moment and that bat-shit crazy barbarian will bust in to rape me. Not if I have any say in this. I’ve always been pretty flexible, so I’m going to try something. If I fall, at least it’ll be onto a mattress. I hook a leg over the top of the headboard and thrust my body out backward like a trapeze artist, preparing to catch a partner. I just manage to snag my fingers in the grate. Thankfully the holes are large enough to get my fingers through. My grip holds as the momentum of my trajectory jerks to an abrupt stop.

I bring my other hand up and begin to fumble with the latch. It’s tight, and this is so awkward spread out on my back in midair. My abs are screaming, and I don’t think I can hang on for long. The latch lets loose without warning and the grate swings open unexpectedly but is still attached by hinges on the other side. I almost fall but instinctively my hand flings out to catch the edge of the opening. I disengage the sore fingers of my other hand from the grate.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I pull myself up and slide into the opening. I feel my old ragged jeans snag on the metal of the opening and the rip on one thigh deepens. The exertion has sapped the last of my strength.

Quickly, I roll inside and reach back down to pull the grate closed and poke my fingers through to slide the latch back in place right as I hear him enter the room. I hear his bellow and I know instantly that it’s him. And the fact that I’m not waiting docilely for him to pork me has him in a rage.

I peer out through the grate and see him tearing through the room, looking for me. He rips the blankets off the bed, then tips the massive mattress up looking underneath. He shoves it to the side when he doesn’t see me hiding underneath.

He spins around, searching. I’m afraid he’ll look up, so I back away from the opening and crouch just out of sight. I’m so horrified I literally fear I’ll pee myself. But I keep a tight rein on my bladder as I tremble in terror. If urine started raining from the ceiling this game of cat and mouse will be over. As I hear him ripping the room apart to find me gruesome visions of how he just murdered all those men fuel my fear.

Today is the day I’m going to die. Well, that sucks.

CHAPTER SIX

Tessa

I crouch in the duct work, afraid to move. I know I need to crawl away since he’s directly below me ripping the room apart as he searches for me. That’s the logical course of action.

Also, I have to move because my quivering muscles can not hold this position a moment longer. I reach my hand out and place it on the cool metal, inching onto all fours. I move slowly, but that doesn’t matter because somehow my shifting movement causes the metal to make a slight popping sound. He instantly goes silent below me.

Damn it! I guess he has supersonic hearing too.

I start to crawl away. I’m not trying to be slow or quiet now. There’s no point in worrying about noise now that he knows I’m up here. I’m hoping to reach some kind of laundry shoot slide to the basement like in the movies.

But I never make it that far. I scream shrilly as a metal fist punches the aluminum surface in front of me. I scramble backward toward the trap door in the vent as his fist lands again, causing vibrations in the metal to shake through my body.

I’m beginning to doubt my ingenious plan. It only takes a few blows to break through, then his strong hands peel the metal apart like a tin can. I’m quivering like a leaf on a windy day. Has angering him earned me an even worse fate?

He sticks his head through the opening and his blue laser eyes stare unblinkingly at me. I swallow nervously, but my mouth is so dry it doesn’t really work. I’m all out of ideas, and I don’t have a weapon.

What should I do? I can’t go forward because he’s there. If I go backward there is just the trap door which leads back into the room below.

Unlike me, the alien isn’t at all indecisive. I keep my eyes trained on him as he effortlessly pulls himself up inside the ventwork and begins to inch toward me, army crawl style. Honestly, I’m amazed his bulk even fits up here! The sound of his metallic body sliding on the metal ductwork pierces through my nerves, making me even more hysterical. It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard.

Acting on pure instinct, I kick open the grate and lower my legs through the opening. Dangling from my fingertips I glance around to see if there’s anything to break my fall. The room is a disaster zone.

The bed has been torn apart. What if he plans to demolish me next? I swing my body, and aim for the mattress which has been tossed to the ground. I don’t know why I’m still running. I guess it just isn’t in my DNA to surrender without a fight.

I make it, just barely and land on my feet. I let my knees buckle as I roll to make the impact less jarring on my joints. I don’t even have time to stand before he grabs me. I scream in terror as he picks me up and holds me to his chest. I tense, waiting for the agonizing pain when he crushes me, or worse, rips me apart like he did the furniture.

I beat my puny human fists against his face, not even making a dent in his armor. My hands are bruised and I’m crying myself hoarse. This is it then. I’m going to die . . . right here and now.

Then I realize something, something downright impossible. He’s not hurting me. Our battle has all been one-sided with me wailing away at him. But the metal monster . . . he’s just holding me.

He’s not fighting back at all, he’s just staring at me with those freaky blue light bulb eyes as my fists beat on his face. He’s not even yelling at me. What the hell? I don’t understand this alien, not even a bit.

My adrenaline surge fizzles out, leaving me exhausted. So, I stop fighting. Minutes go buy and we just stare at each other. I don’t know if it’s surreal or just weird, but it’s definitely something.

And that’s when the most amazing thing happens. I feel the arms around me grow warm. It’s like his metal exterior is melting away. I lean back and look down at his torso and it morphs right before my eyes.

Firm pectoral muscles are pressed against my chest. I shift my gaze up to his face and gasp. The robotic laser beams have melted away, leaving behind piercing blue eyes framed by the most gorgeous face I’ve ever seen.

I’m having a hard time grasping what just happened. Holy crap! He’s not a robot. He’s a man. A flesh and blood, muscle bound hunk. Honestly he looks like one of those men that spends all day in the gym.

My traitorous body doesn’t seem to remember that this is the guy I thought would kill me scant seconds before. It’s so confused that it’s responding to him the way it would any attractive male. I feel softer and warmer. This is not a good sign.

I have no idea how all that alien armor has just disappeared, but all that manflesh lurking underneath . . . well it’s straight up yummy. I tentatively pull away and he lets me slide down his body and take a step backward so that I can get a better look. His dark blond hair is shaved on the sides then long strands are pulled up into a knot at the top of his head. Intricate braids come out of the topknot to fall along his chiseled square jaw.

He is without a doubt the sexiest man, bar none, that I have ever seen. And I’m not just counting personal experiences here, I’m also lumping in all of those glorious movie stars. He’s beautiful, and I mean every inch of him when I say that, because he’s completely nude.

His massive pectoral muscles taper into his rock hard abs. He has a few cloth bandages wrapped around the worst of his injuries, but they certainly don’t detract from the show. He earned those wounds in the arena, which somehow makes him more attractive to me. I can see the dips and bulges of every one of his muscles. If I were artistically inclined this would be the point where I’d grab a hunk of clay and start sculpting. But who needs clay when you can run your fingers over the real thing?

My eyes dip lower and a flood of moisture seeps from my core at the sight of his junk. Honestly, I have to admit that while I enjoy the feel of a nice dick inside of me, looking at them has never been my thing. But this guy is different.

It is enormous, standing proudly at attention, as though awaiting my approval. I lick my lips in appreciation, and my eyes dart back to his face in time to see his nostrils flare as he watches my tongue. Maybe I shouldn’t be openly checking him out. What if he gets the wrong idea? My eyes drop back down for another glance.

What the hell is wrong with me? Yes, it’s been three years since I last had sex, but am I so desperate for it that I can’t resist a naked hottie? I try to remind myself that he’s a barbarian, and that I just saw him hack several other warriors to pieces. But my arguments aren’t working.

He cocks his head and his gaze goes straight to my breasts which are pebbled and straining at the thin cotton material of the shirt tied around my waist. Maybe I am that desperate. Why am I fighting it? What’s the worst that could happen?

He takes a step closer and I feel his thumb . . .yes indeed a flesh and blood thumb . . . brush sensuously over one of my nipples. My breath hitches as I try to work up the resolve to resist him. But my treacherous body isn’t concerned with logic and it’s not listening to my commands.

With one last ditch effort I try to tell myself to kick and fight, to put a stop to this madness. I need to try to get the hell out of here. But it’s like my body is following a different imperative, the one where a species tries to reproduce before it goes extinct. If I’m going to die anyway, why not enjoy some sex before I go?

“TSSS,” he says softly in his alien tongue.

I’m sure now that it’s my name he’s trying to say. It’s actually kind of sweet. I’m impressed that he’s managed to pick it out of my conversations with the other females.

I point to my face and repeat my name, “Tessa.”

Then I point at his face and pause, giving him a probing look. If I knew alien for “what’s your name” I would happily have used it. But I don’t, so I’m working a mean game of charades instead.

“BOCC-D’AR,” he answers my question, pointing at his own head.

And there I’d been thinking that my highschool Spanish class had been useless. Take that Mrs. Scravinski. I just introduced myself and learned his name. I’ve always been interested in foreign languages.

I smile, and repeat his name, “Bocc-d’ar,” trying to emulate his guttural inflections. There’s almost a growl sound on the D’ar part. I’m probably making a mess of it, but it’s a start at least. I tap his chest excitedly because this is huge. We’ve started a dialogue.

“TSSS,” he repeats, and then he taps me on the chest too. Except he doesn’t stop there. His huge hands slips inside my shirt cupping my breasts, and some kind of sound leaks out of me that I’m pretty sure might get mistaken as a moan.

I know I should stop him, but I can’t seem to work up much conviction to do so. My nipple is rock hard where he’s rubbing it between his thumb and fingers. Then like lightening he’s ripped my shirt open, buttons popping off, and pushes it over my shoulders. It slides forgotten to the floor.

I’d call him an asshole for ruining my shirt, but he’s basically just fulfilled one of my private romance novel fantasies and I don’t want to be a hypocrite. However, I’m not on Earth and I don’t have any more clothes, so there’s only so far I’m willing to let this fantasy go. I’m fearful for my jeans because they’re pretty much covered with holes already, and I don’t want to be trapped naked on a strange planet.

So I shimmy them down my hips before he can tear those off of me too. I try to tell myself that me getting naked is only to protect my wardrobe, but I know it’s a bald-faced lie. I am so unbelievably horny. Does he have to be so freaking hot?

What’s that thing where captives fall for their prisoner? I think it’s called Stockholm Syndrome. Is that what’s happening here?

No, this is lust: pure and simple. I’m pretty sure he was never trying to kill me, but then again death by sex might not be such a bad way to go. He steps toward me again and slides one of his big fingers straight into my core. Holy crap! Is this the alien version of foreplay?

It feels so insanely good that my muscles clamp down around his finger, and he smiles at my response. When I start to have second thoughts, I try to back up and put some distance between us so that I can think. But then he reaches out his other hand to grab my ass, pinning me in place.

His finger glides in and out of me, and that seductive smile goes a long way towards convincing me not to fight this. His finger pops back out of me, and just when I start to feel disappointed he does something even more naughty. He inserts said finger into his mouth. OMG, he’s tasting me.

This is one dirty alien. But it’s the good kind of dirty, and instead of wanting to stop things, now I just want to see what he tries next. That’s when he lowers his hand again and rubs the tips of his fingers across my clit. I make a sound that’s an awful lot like a whimper.

He circles around, and around, and my knees go weak with the sensation. I have never felt more desired in my entire life. I am a massive bundle of nerves, slick with need.

It’s time to talk some sense into myself . . . while I still remember how to speak. Yep, a one-sided conversation is definitely in order. I figure it’s okay to talk to myself in front of him, because it’s obvious he doesn’t understand a single thing I say. This is fine, because I can handle both sides of this particular argument.

“He’s an alien, and a barbarian, you fool,” I tell myself.

“A hot alien,” my neglected vagina argues.

“He just killed all those men,” my sane half shouts.

“But he did it to win me fair and square,” I argue back. “That’s way more thoughtful than stopping to pick up flowers. And aren’t you glad it was him who won, and not one of those other monsters?”

That seems to be the winning point because the sane half of me shuts up and the horny, sex-starved, goddess part of me takes over. I stop resisting altogether and reach out blindly for something warm and muscular to hold onto. His fingers move faster against my nub and a bone shattering orgasm erupts from my core.

He continues to stroke me, and it’s almost more than I can bear. I feel like I’m ripe to explode again, but this time I don’t want to go it alone. I reach my arms toward his shoulders, and he bends down to pick me up.

My hands thread around his thick neck as he begins lowering my slick center onto his massive shaft. I cry out in surprise at its girth and he stops. Suddenly I’m questioning whether or not the two of us are physically compatible. I know big is supposed to be better, but this is ridiculous.

He’s only in halfway, and I can’t fathom the unbelievable control he exercises to not force his way in. He holds me there, his cock firm and unrelenting inside of me. He looks at me questioningly. I stare into his incredible blue eyes. Oh God, he is sexy. Oh the hell with it. I wanted an adventure and I’m not about to back away now.

“I am going to take all of that giant penis inside of me if it’s the last thing I do,” I inform him as I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in deep.

Woah. It’s like there’s no space between where he ends and I begin. The whole two become one concept has never really hit home like this before. I’m stretched to the max, and I mean that in a good way. Then he begins to piston in and out, bucking against my soft core. All the while he’s looking into my eyes with a huge cocky grin on his face.

“Yeah, I know big guy. You have good reason to be cocky.”

Why have I been fighting this? The answer can’t seem to make it into my endorphin clouded brain. Every fiber of my body is alight with a sensuous fire that is building . . . burning . . . surging out of control.

And that’s when things get weird. That’s when I feel it.

“What the fuck? Is that a metal tip on the end of your penis?”

He smiles at me again, as if he can understand my words.

“Your penis! It’s vibrating?” I gasp, knowing full well he doesn’t really understand a single word I say.

Somehow I’d forgotten that the guy was an alien, and that he looked like a robot most of the time. Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed he’d have bonus features . . . well at least not down there. It’s like the best of two worlds—partner’s sex with built in adult toys. Except I don’t even have to remember to buy batteries.

And then there are no more words. I hold on tight as he thrusts in and out. He’s so big, so strong. The sensations build to the point where neither of us can bear to continue.

He roars and I swear it’s like he changed the setting on his crazy enhanced cock, because he’s vibrating even harder now. I shatter in ecstasy as yet another orgasm detonates inside of me. I feel a rush of heat as he comes deep within me. The sensation is so amazing I almost pass out from the sheer pleasure of it.

“DAS GAHMEN,” he says solemnly and continues to hold my core tightly against him.

What’s this he’s saying? I’m his? He thinks I’m property? What have I done? Talk about killing the moment. There’s no basking in the afterglow. I go from erotic bliss to freaking the hell out in two seconds flat.

Bocc-d’ar

It is time to go, so I loosen my grip, and allow my woman to slide down my body. It’s done. I have mated her, so no one will ever try to take her from me. Part of me still can’t believe that fortune has smiled so upon me. I am beyond blessed.

I never expected that I would get to take a mate. And to have one so exquisite exceeds my wildest dreams. She’s perfect. From her fierce fighting spirit, to her sublime curves. And she’s so soft that I can’t get enough of touching her.

Passion’s fires begin to course through my veins once more. I consider taking her again, but I have been gone too long from my home and I feel the urgency to return. The trip to our new planet took longer than expected.

I led the original exploration there when it was nothing but barren, empty land. It had been a blank surface for us to sow the seeds from our home planet. When we returned we found our seeds had taken to life with unparalleled vigor.

They had grown into a beautiful pristine version of our home planet, Meturgia. Our efforts proved more fruitful than any of us could have imagined. But even more important than our success of seeding a new planet came in the discovery of the women. Six young fertile women.

And to think one male had thought to keep them all to himself! We had quickly discovered that he was not a great warrior, but a weakling. We’d tried questioning them, to figure out where they’d come from but neither of us could understand the other.

When others of their kind had begun attacking we’d had no choice but to flee. We’d taken the females with us. The man didn’t deserve them. He was a coward, and had failed to keep them safe. They deserved warriors for mates, not weaklings.

There had been much excitement when the men of my planet had seen the prizes we’d brought home. Females are so scarce for our race, and we’d collected six women, all prime ages for mating. The arena would run with rivers of blood by the time the last of the women were claimed. But I didn’t care about the others, I’d known from the first that TSSS was mine. And now I have won her by the rites of Ja-Karr.

I hate to cover her perfect form, but I do not want any of the other men to see her, so I bend down and hand her her clothes.

“THAY NKOOH,” she says shyly as she takes them from my hands.

Her words are so strange and I have yet to understand anything she says. But I know her name, and it’s beautiful just like her. TSSS. More words will come in time, or so I hope. If not, well the pleasures of our mated bodies are conversation enough for any man.

Not all of my men will not be returning with me. Some have chosen to stay and fight in the next Ja-Karr for one of the remaining women. They stay with my blessing. I would do the same were I them.

These battles will be spread out over a span of weeks. This will allow word to spread so that men from other regions will have time to come. Many will travel great leagues for the honor of battling for a mate of their own. Any man not willing to fight for the honor, isn’t worthy of the prize.

After my mate is dressed I reassume my warrior form. I wonder what she must think of my sleek metal armor. I’m certain she must think me magnificent, for I have felled many enemies and am a great fighter.

TSSS is talking to herself again. I suspect that she is not altogether pleased with me for ripping her coverings. She’s tied a series of knots in the damaged fabric, and it’s straining against her ample breasts.

I feel bad for destroying her only possessions. I will fix this, for my mate’s happiness is my own. I will see to it that she has access to beautiful fabrics once we reach our home. Like all women, I’m sure she will be proficient with a needle.

I reach for my trident, and then position my weapon firmly on my back where I have fashioned a special series of tethers to hold it. Once my hands are free I take her hand and pull her with me out the door. She follows willingly down the stairs, her dainty hand soft against my larger metal one. But when I step outside and walk toward the city gate she begins to struggle vigorously.

“WHEEER MIY FRNNDS!”

I look at her blankly. This lack of a common tongue grows tiresome.

“WHEEER MIY FRNNDS!” she whines in a most unpleasant manner.

“Hurry,” I tell her, urging her to come with me. “We need to start our journey if we are to make it to my keep before nightfall.”

“NAHT LEEVEEN THOUT FRNNDS,” she sobs again.

I am at a loss as to what it is she wants, but it matters not. Everything she needs will be provided when I get her back to my castle. I can not wait to dress her in fine clothing, and provide her with choice foods. She is my mate and she will be treated as befits my queen.

But I must admit I grow weary of her whining. And I must not look weak in front of my men. Acting decisively, I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. Then I carry her out to the open field where my men wait. Her puny fists pound my back. I know from experience that this is her version of a lover’s caress, which makes me smile with the memory of the previous night.

I slide her off my shoulder and pull her toward the red Dar-fnar I always ride. She is my friend, and her name is Sca ’hlet. Sca ’hlet has carried me through many battles, and this day has consented to being equipped with a double saddle so that my mate can ride behind me.

My TSSS cries out in terror at the sight of Sca ‘hlet and backs away. Do they not have Dar-fnar where she comes from? What a strange thought.

“NAHT A FUKKIN DRAGGN!” she screams.

“Dar-fnar,” I explain patiently.

I lift her kicking and screaming, and my men chuckle at her playfulness. She is a feisty one, my sweet TSSS. That’s part of how I knew she was superior to all of the other female’s, that she was the best.

TSSS refuses to settle down. I’m befuddled, for she seems genuinely terrified. So I release my battle form, and stand before her in nothing but a loin cloth. I hope to calm her thusly because she seems to prefer my natural form.

My men make the community chattering deep in their throats, transmitting their feelings of happiness for me and pride that I have triumphed and secured a mate, thereby ensuring my line will continue. I pick her up and scale the back of the Dar-Fnar while my mate continues kicking and screaming in my arms.

I thank them, feeling so full of pride that I could burst with it. I step into the saddle and place her in front of me so that I can keep a firm grip on her in case she decides to do anything foolish. Sca ’hlet’s ears are tucked back tightly against her head in an attempt to block out the shrill sounds of my mate. I do not blame her.

TSSS seems to settle a bit and has stopped screaming, but I hear her heart pounding as she stares over the saddle at the huge crimson head of the Dar-fnar. I slide into the saddle behind her, settle my thighs outside of hers and pull her sweet body in tight to mine. I wonder if she would be opposed to mating while we travel? No, I wouldn’t want my men watching.

“CNNN FEEEL DAHM PEENUSSS NNN MIYYY ASSS!” she shouts as she wiggles her sweet behind against my cock.

PENUSSS? This must be a love term. See? I am learning her language after all. Ah, Life is good.

I pull on the reigns, and the deep red Dar-fnar rises up on her legs. She shifts into a lumbering run, headed straight for the edge of the cliff. Dar-fnar look a bit awkward on foot, but then she spreads her wings and leaps into the air. There is nothing as graceful as a Dar-fnar soaring in the sky.

TSSS’s screams fill the air causing all my men to chuckle as we soar over the terrain. I turn to make eye contact with my men who are riding their own Dar-fnar. The amusement in their eyes tells me that they think TSSS is every bit as entertaining as I do.

We float over the landscape, dipping and swaying with the current. Eventually TSSS stops screaming and I feel her body relax, so I bring various points of interest to her attention. I point to a grove of dark purple Brast trees which have the sweet fruit that she seems to like.

I pull the reins hard to the right and swoop lower and point so that she can see. TSSS squeals, and clutches her hands to my thighs when I use my mind-talk to tell Sca ’hlet what I want her to do. She flies sideways so her wings do not hit the trees.

I deftly reach my hand out to snag a piece of fruit for TSSS. But she’s clutching my legs too tightly to accept my gift. Then the Dar-fnar returns to a level position.

We fly a bit longer at this low altitude, low to the ground and parallel to the grove. My TSSS seems to appreciate this up close view of the terrain. When we reach the end of the trees I pull hard on the reins to the left, then dig my heels into the Dar-fnar’s sides signaling for her to ascend.

When we have once again joined the rest of the flock I tear the fruit open as I know she does not have the strength to do this. She makes an appreciative sound in her throat and actually turns to smile at me as she takes it from my hand. It is the first smile she has given me. I will treasure this moment forever.

My manhood is swelling with need, threatening to burst past the paltry restraints of my loincloth. My need for her is insatiable. I feel her sweet backside, pressed up tightly against me. The metal tip forms on my cock, where it begins to vibrate for her approval. Perhaps no one would notice if we drop back down again and I am quick?

I have longed to have my own younglings my entire adult life. The need to fill her with my seed right here, mid-flight is almost unbearable. But I would never take her in plain view of my men, so I must restrain myself. My manhood continues to vibrate, hoping to sway me, but I will remain strong.

“CNNN FEEEL DAHM PEENUSSS NNN MIYYY ASSS!” she shouts again.

“PENUSSS?” I repeat the love word softly for her ears only.

Her sweet laughter at my attempt to say her words rings over the canyons as we fly. The wind blows her hair over my face and I am content. With my mate beside me, my life is complete.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tessa

His damn penis has been vibrating its happy dance against my ass ever since we left the city. It’s like a giant dildo with faulty mechanics. I wonder if it’s too much to hope for that he’ll just up and run out of batteries. Either way, he needs to get over it, because I am so not in the mood.

“I can still feel your damn penis, you know!” I tell him again, hoping he’ll catch my drift if nothing else.

Then he whispers PENIS in my ear like it’s some sort of an endearment. This is so freaking funny that I almost stop being annoyed about his perpetual hard-on. I didn’t think it was possible short of a Viagra malfunction to maintain an erection for hours, but he’s perfected the skill. Maybe it’s an alien thing?

Does he seriously think I’m going to have at it with him here on top of a dragon of all places? Even if I could temporarily stop daydreaming about plummeting to my death, I could never get past the fact that there are several other metal men flying on their own dragons right next to us. Mr. Trident man, you’re dreaming if you think you’re getting any right now!

Eventually things settle down in the saddle and I am even able to get over some of my fear of the massive dragon. After I find a way to ignore its razor sharp teeth, I almost enjoy the flight. It is so quiet up here. It’s like we’re flying in an airplane, but there’s absolutely nothing to impede the view. I’ll have to admit it is pretty awesome to feel the wind whip through my hair and to fly like a bird.

I feel the thighs gripping my own cool as they morph back to metal. Apparently my alien has gone back to his robot form. I still can’t believe there’s a flesh and blood man under all of that metal.

He’s trying to get my attention. “GAHM HABE,” he says, pointing in front of us.

“Game hen hobbies,” I repeat. Nothing he says ever makes any sense to me. I follow the angle of his head and notice that he’s pointing to the side. “You want me to look at that mountain?” I ask.

At first I think GAHM HABE means mountain. But that doesn’t make sense because we’ve seen a number of mountains as we’ve flown over the terrain. So I use my hand to shade my eyes and protect them from the glare. I look again to see if he’s pointing at something else. There’s the majestic mountain in front of us, covered with yet more varieties of strange trees; foreign yet so beautiful.

A good size river cascades down the side of the mountain, and I wonder if he wanted me to see that. Then something at the top of the peak catches my attention. I see the alien planet’s suns reflecting off of something large. As we get closer I start to make out what it is. It’s a cluster of buildings. The closer we get, the more details I can discern.

There is a castle dominating the center of the area, but there are many smaller structures dotting the perimeter. There are what appear to be domesticated animals in pens feeding on the strange, swirling grass that grows here. They are so odd looking. Something about them reminds me of sheep, but they are closer in size to cows.

In other spots there are colorful rows of crops terraced on the sides of the gently swelling hills at the top of the summit. The area at the top is flatter, which makes for great farming. I know intuitively the castle was built here for its defensive position.

But who would these metal men fear? Do they wage war with each other? Or is it possible that there are even more alien races roaming the galaxies? I’m definitely getting the vibes of a feudal system in the works here. I’m trying to remember what I learned in elementary school, but it’s been a while.

I think that castles would have overlords of some type. Do these aliens also have something like kings or an equivalent? I continue with my medieval comparison, cringing when I remember how everyone was always at war with each other in the middle ages. Of course. That’s why they need the giant walls and fortresses. What have I gotten myself into?

Getting to the top of the mountain on foot would be no easy feat. Fortunately, we are not on foot. Our dragons float to a large clearing and land with rather ungraceful thumps, one at a time.

Bocc-d’ar stands, then helps me out of the saddle. I’m stiff from the hours of inactivity, so I accept the help. I watch with interest as the leather saddles are removed from the beasts. Bocc-d’ar goes to the head of the crimson dragon we were riding and places his hands on the massive head, looking into its eyes.

The fantasy creature is beautiful, albeit in a “don’t cross me or I might just gobble you up in one bite kind of way.” The sun reflects off if its red scaled armor and makes it look like it’s covered with rubies. Its eyes are black onyx rimmed in shimmering gold which makes them look like elaborate jewelry.

Bocc-d’ar continues to lock eyes with the beast then says something in his strange tongue. He is in his metal form with the trident on his back. He and the beast seem to be communicating in some way. Fascinated, I watch as the dragon snorts then lumbers off with the others into a cavernous opening at the side of the mountain. Are the dragons free to come and go as they please?

A wave of hopelessness threatens to consume me. How am I ever going to escape this world with its barbaric aliens and fantastical beasts? As quickly as the negativity rushes in, I push it back. I will find a way to get back to Eclipsa and the others.

I see men on the top of the wall. I don’t know if they’re on patrol or if they’re there to greet us. I hear that strange chattering sound that I’ve concluded is how they communicate. A drawbridge lowers and we walk across the moat.

Aliens swarm in from all sides. Most are in their metal armor, but I spy a few showing their flesh and blood selves. The flesh and blood ones do have on clothing, thankfully, although just their bottom halves are covered with either leather pants or loin cloths.

Bare chests must be the norm in this society. And why not, given the fact that every one of them is built like a bodybuilder? Personally I’ve never been to a male strip club, but I’m starting to understand the appeal. It’s too bad I didn’t have any cash to stuff in exciting places.

Of course, none of them are as handsome as my Bocc-d’ar. I flinch when I realize what I just thought. No, he’s not mine. What is wrong with me? This is ridiculous. One thing’s for sure—I will not be staying here any longer than it takes to plan my escape.

Where are the women? All I see is one bare chested hunk after another. It’s creeping me out, in a “Paint Your Wagons” kind of way. Did something happen to the lady aliens, or were there never any of them to begin with?

The males are all chattering up a storm. Something has them all excited. I really hope it’s not me. I have a flash back to what happened when we first got off of the spaceship. All the aliens had been making that exact same sound. That time it ended with a gladiator battle for my hand . . . or rather my body.

But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here though because Bocc-d’ar doesn’t seem tense. If anything he seems happy. The chattering in his chest blends with theirs as he leads me through the village.

It looks like we’re heading for the castle itself. Maybe the women are inside? The thought comforts me a little. We walk through the giant door at the front of the castle.

“GAHM HABE,” he says again.

Okay, so it definitely doesn’t’ mean mountain. Maybe it’s alien for “home” or the name of the castle itself? It soon becomes obvious that Mr. Trident is giving me a tour. Sadly, given our language barrier, his words are nothing but a bunch of strange guttural words and clicking sounds.

But the tour is still useful. I keep my eyes open, memorizing the hallways and every turn we take. I’m having a hard time finding memorable landmarks because everything is comprised of metal, metal, and more metal. Upon closer inspection, I realize a variety of materials has been used. The floors are a dark charcoal gray, the walls a lighter silver.

There are some wooden pieces of furniture, although most of the furnishings seem to be made of gold, silver, and brass. That seems like it would be cold and uncomfortable, but there are cushions and furs on the chairs and benches which makes it look way more inviting. Some of the rooms have woven mats on the floors. It looks like they’re made of something similar to bamboo.

I’m sure we’ve barely scratched the surface of what there is to explore when he leads me into a massive bedchamber. It’s obviously his. I’m beginning to realize that my trident man is the Lord of the Keep.

“Game hen hobbies?” I ask, trying my best to repeat his phrase from earlier.

He nods his head excitedly. That definitely means “home”. Well, this place is certainly nicer than the room we shared after the gladiator battle. The room is dominated by a massive bed covered with wooly furs. It’s so tall that I’d have to take a running leap to climb up on it.

That’s assuming I actually wanted to put myself in his bed of course. And I definitely don’t want to repeat my insanity from the previous evening. Having sex again with him would be beyond stupid. He hadn’t used a condom. I wonder if they have anything like those on this planet?

I don’t want to get pregnant. I refuse to consider the fact that I might already be so. Who’s to say our species are even compatible? Either way, I’m not risking fate a second time.

While I stand there warring with myself, all of his metal armor melts away. There he is again . . . my gloriously naked barbarian. His body is bronzed to perfection, and there isn’t an ounce of fat to be had on him.

Every one of his muscles is bulging and beautiful. And they’re wreaking havoc on my hormones. With the force of a magnet, my eyes are drawn down to where his erection stands proudly. It’s exactly as I remember it from earlier. If I wasn’t such a slut I’m sure I’d be blushing. Apparently, I’m beyond shame.

He is so hot it is just not fair. I try to remember all of my reasons for not having sex with him. I know I had some very valid points, I just can’t seem to recall what they were right this moment. Maybe I don’t want to remember them.

He gives me a scorching look, and reaches his arms wide. I don’t even hesitate. I hurry to undo the makeshift ties on my top, and slip out of my jeans. I take a running start and leap into his arms. He catches me by my ass and I scream with pleasure. I’m more than ready.

As if I weigh nothing, he lifts me high, then impales me on his rigid shaft. I’ve been in a state of semi-arousal all day, so I’m ready for him. I moan, wondering if I’ll ever get used to the sheer size of him. I wrap my legs around his waist, which drives his cock in even deeper. I can feel that metal tip touching my cervix.

It feels so good I’m at risk of passing out. And that’s when it starts vibrating. No wonder I can’t think straight. He’s addictive. I place my hands loosely on his shoulders, then lean my chest away from him so I can see his expression. He’s beaming at me like he just won the lottery.

“DAS GAHMEN,” he says throatily.

“You know, I never said I’m yours. I just conceded because I can’t resist your delicious body. And I think I’d like a kiss.”

I thread my fingers through the long hair at the base of his skull and angle his mouth toward mine.

“Kiss,” I tell him.

He has the funniest confused look on his face, but he complies, allowing me to bring his mouth to mine. He smiles, but his mouth remains closed. So, I glide my tongue over his lips, coaxing them to do my bidding.

“Kiss,” I repeat huskily.

He grunts, obviously enjoying the sensation of being licked. But it’s clear he’s never done this before. He doesn’t understand the need to open his mouth for the fun to start. I take one of my hands from behind his head, and touch his lips with my finger. Light as a feather I drag it over those perfectly shaped lips. His breath catches and his mouth falls open.

Seizing the opportunity, I slip my finger inside, and slide it across his tongue. Before he can close it again I bring my mouth to his and slide my tongue across his just like I did with my finger. He’s a fast learner. I’ll give him that. Instantly his tongue thrusts out to meet mine.

“KSSS, TSSS,” he murmurs.

Then he begins to thrust his tongue with the same rhythm he’s using with his pelvis. He moves his tongue and at the same time grinds his hips against me. He teases and taunts, pulling his hardness in and out of me. That little metal tip is vibrating up a storm and it feels so good, but I wonder if it would be even better on the bed.

I jerk my mouth back. “Bed,” I say, pointing toward it.

He grunts something indiscernible, and begins walking toward it without slowing the pace of his pelvic thrusting. There’s definitely something to be said for all of those muscles. He reaches the bed but instead of getting in it, he sets my ass on it and pushes my inner thighs open as he continues to drive deep inside of me. I’m a little bit higher than him now, and I open my legs willingly since I don’t have to flex my muscles so tightly to keep from falling.

“That feels so good!” I tell him.

“GOOHT,” he agrees.

“Goooooood,” I scream as my orgasm rips through me.

I feel him erupt inside me like hot lava as he screams his new word, “GOOHT!”

My shoulders slump to the bed as I melt like a noodle onto the furs. But not all of me falls back. My crotch is still suspended in midair, because his strong hands are holding me firmly to him.

His expression seems so purposeful as he holds me in place. I can literally feel his hot semen pouring inside me. Something brushes the edges of my brain, some semblance of sanity returning.

He’s holding me like I’m a receptacle . . . for his . . . . seed? What? Is he’s trying to get me pregnant? Then it hits me. That’s what I was trying to remember. I can’t have sex with him again because I could get pregnant!

Damn it! How could I have forgotten something so very, very important? I feel stupid. I just had unprotected sex with an alien twice in less than a 24 hour span! What the hell was I thinking?

Obviously I wasn’t thinking. Instead of panicking I decide to focus on the fact that I’ll be gone soon. I’m going to escape and find my way back to the captive Krinar females.

What are the odds that our species are even compatible? I’d say it’s pretty unlikely that he could even get me pregnant. So I guess there was no harm in one more time for the road. After all, don’t I deserve to have a little fun on my adventure?

***

I must have dozed off. I wake up tucked under the furs with my big alien beside me . . . the hot body builder version of him, not the tin can one. He opens his eyes when I move to get up. I need to put on my clothes before I repeat my insanity for a third time.

Clutching the furs against my breasts, I slide over to the side of the bed. But my feet are dangling about a foot off the floor. I’m getting ready to drop when he grabs both of my hands and lowers me down. This furniture was obviously not made for puny humans like me.

“Thanks,” I murmur gratefully when my feet touch the ground.

He watches intently as I walk over and pick up my clothing which was tossed to the floor in the heat of the moment. The ripped jeans are in pretty sad shape, and retying my makeshift knots to keep the shirt up is starting to get tedious. It was a lot easier before he destroyed all the buttons.

He grabs my hand and pulls me toward another door. I step through it with him. A bathroom? This place has a bathroom? Things look different than on Earth, but not so different I can’t figure them out. I see what must be a toilet, and I can’t explain how relieved I am. But he’s ruining the moment by standing there and looking at me.

“No way am I peeing while you watch!”

I make shooing motions for him to leave. Thankfully he does. I catch my reflection in a huge mirror. Actually I think it’s polished silver, but regardless the reflection is quite clear.

To say I look like a wild woman is putting it mildly. I’ve lost weight since our capture. My waist dips in sharply and my stomach is totally flat. My hair is naturally a bit wavy but now the wild tawny streaks looks like a golden lion’s mane. It hasn’t been brushed in so long I can’t even fathom how I’m going to get all of those tangles out. Maybe I won’t bother.

I’d kill for a bath, but I don’t know how to operate it. I explore it eagerly. There don’t seem to be any handles. I’m still pondering the situation when he returns, barely having given me time to finish peeing.

“Okay, trident man. We need to set some boundaries,” I complain.

I hurry to step into the jeans. Too bad I didn’t see a sink, or I would have washed my hands first. I’m not exactly impressed by my reflection in the mirror, and apparently neither is he.

“NIK,” he barks out, shaking his head.

I’m thinking “nickel” means no.

He walks over to a table and points at the things that are laying on it. It’s clothing, and jewelry, I think. He slips into the gold, leather pants. They have royal blue strips sewn in at various spots which highlight his physique. Apparently, like the rest of his people, he’s not big on shirts. Fine by me. What a view.

Then he hands me a . . . I guess a large piece of silvery white fabric. I can’t decide on a color, because it keeps changing in the light as I move it across my hands. It’s soft, like silk. Is he expecting me to sew this into a dress or something.

I inwardly debate over whether or not I should try to wear this. I don’t want to lose my own clothing, but this fabric is clean and my shirt and pants are seriously disgusting. My desire to feel clean wins out in the end and I strip off my clothes. I know nothing about sewing, but I manage to wrap, tuck and tie my way into a halfway presentable dress. It’s sleeveless because the thought of trying to make sleeves thoroughly intimidates me.

I wrap it tightly around my chest, and tie it off around my waist. There’s so much fabric that it flares out around me like I’m getting ready to walk the red carpet or something. When I glance back up at the mirror I’m surprised to see that I actually look somewhat fashionable.

“You’re right. This is much better,” I say aloud. I neatly fold up my clothing and set it on the corner of the table, because I don’t want anyone messing with my stuff.

He smiles in appreciation, and I’m glad I decided to try it on.

He picks up a heavy piece of jewelry from the table and looks in the mirror as he places it around his neck. It’s intricately formed of tiny beads of bronze, teal and blue that have been fashioned into a circle. It’s almost like a massive collar that spans from the sides of his neck down to his bare shoulders. He fastens a royal blue piece of material onto decorative hooks just above each shoulder, and it falls across his back like a cape.

Oh my. He looks like an Egyptian pharaoh. His blond hair is shaved on the bottom, but the rest of it falls gently around his face. All he needs is a pyramid and then he could sell tickets back on earth. I know I’d buy one.

He reaches over to the table and picks up a smaller version of the neck circlet thing and fastens it at the back of my neck. It’s quite beautiful, like a decorative collar for the simple white dress. Then he hooks a length of the silvery white material at each of my shoulders.

“I get a cape too? Oh goody,” I say.

He nods his approval at me.

I look at both of us together in the mirror. I guess my wild hair isn’t so bad. Actually we look pretty hot together, like an Egyptian King and Queen.

“VASTU,” he says as he opens the massive door and holds out his hand toward me.

I feel a little self-conscious, with the no underwear and all. What if he’s taking me to something degrading like a wet t-shirt contest? I don’t like that I have no idea where he wants me to go.

“Maybe I don’t want to come. Did you ever think of that?” I mutter, defensively.

He looks at me curiously and says, “VASTU,” again, but it’s softer this time. It sounds more like a question than a command now.

There’s no point arguing, because our shared language is too limited to reason with him. I take his hand, following him from the room. Once again I pay attention to the various hallways and stairs, doing my best to memorize every turn we take. I’m making a map in my head for when I escape.

I’m seeing different areas than I did when we came in. This place is so huge that I’m sure we haven’t even scratched the surface yet. I haven’t seen another exit, but I’ve got my eyes open for an escape route, just in case. I’m hoping to find an animal that’s more like a horse and less like a dragon before I leave. Then again, maybe a goat would be better because going down the mountain is going to be hell.

We traverse yet another hallway and suddenly I’m glad I followed him out of the room. I smell the food before we reach our destination, and my mouth starts watering. Something smells like ribs, but I don’t want to get my hopes up in case I’m wrong. The hallway opens into a circular balcony with a huge open room below.

I have a bird’s eye view of the dining hall as we circle around to one of the four sets of stairs descending to the massive space. Off to the sides I see two huge fireplaces with impressively large spits. Long metal rods hold entire carcasses which spin over the fire to golden perfection.

I don’t know exactly what type of meat this is cooking for dinner, but I’m in. Ever since the Krinar took over Earth it’s been nothing but fruit and vegetables. I’m ready to sink my teeth into something primal.

There are tables spread throughout the room, and each one is full of muscle bound men. There’s not a shirt to be had, although there are lots of decorative chains, arm bands and metal wrist cuffs. All wear either loin cloths or leather pants like Bocc-d’ar. It’s like I’m at Comic Con surrounded by a bunch of wannabe Thors. It’s so fun, that briefly I forget that I’m supposed to be planning my escape, because the other women need my help.

We’re headed toward a raised table at the head of the room. It has two ornate chairs, which are conspicuously empty. They look like thrones.

He leads me straight to those chairs and gestures for me to sit on one of them. So, I was right. He is the lord of the manor, because these definitely look like the royal chairs. Does that mean I’m his queen or something? I’d be flattered if the idea wasn’t making me feel like the room was closing in on me.

I study my chair, although I might as well quit prevaricating and just call it a throne already. It’s padded with a thick wooly fur. Like everything else in the castle, it’s too tall for me. I’m starting to relate more and more to the Goldilocks and the three bears story, and not just because I’m blonde. When he notices my struggle, he picks me up and sets me down gently on the seat.

“Thanks,” I reply automatically. Just because I know he doesn’t understand doesn’t mean I can’t still be polite.

No sooner am I settled than a huge platter of the steaming hot, roasted meat is placed directly in front of us. OMG. I haven’t had real meat in so long. I was still a kid when the Krinar invaded earth and turned everyone into uber healthy, earth friendly vegetarians.

My diet for years has been nothing but tofu and vegetables. It’s enough to drive anyone insane. Especially when all this girl wants is some bacon, and not the veggie kind. I still have no intention of staying, but I’m starting to understand some of the appeal of this alien planet.

Bocc-d’ar reaches out and grabs a nice medium rare piece of meat and holds it out to me. I open my mouth like a baby bird and gobble it up. I chew slowly, letting the sweet juices marinate on my taste buds. These people have taken roast to a whole new level.

He picks up another piece and offers it to me, but I brush his hand away. I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself, and besides that I’m starving. No dainty nibbles for this girl.

I can’t even remember the last time I ate, except for that one purple banana on our flight here. There is a stack of those in front of us along with some other brightly colored fruits, but I’m not even remotely interested. After I rescue the other women we’ll go back to Earth and I may never get to eat meat again.

I tear off a tender piece of roast and bite into it. It pretty much falls apart in my mouth. I wonder what kind of animal it is? I really don’t care what it’s called though, not when it tastes this good. Given the size of those carcasses roasting on the spits, I suspect that it is the large sheep-like cow creatures I saw grazing on the hillside. But it could easily be some kind of wild caught game. I really don’t care. It’s not like I’m planning on butchering one myself.

It is so good I groan in pleasure. The next piece I snag is still attached to a long bone, like a spare rib. But unlike the scrawny ribs I remember from years ago, this one is covered with plump juicy meat. I gnaw along the sides of the bone and groan again in pleasure.

Then somehow the utter silence of the room cuts through my meat orgy fog. I look up to see every eye on me. I realize too late that the sounds I’m making are virtually identical to the noises I make when I’m enjoying sex.

I wipe my mouth on the cloth that has been set in front of me and place my half gnawed bone on the silver plate which I assume is mine because someone set it right in front of me. Bocc-d’ar uses a serving fork and knife to cut me off a large portion of the meat from the platter and sets it on my plate. Then he puts another stack on his plate.

“VRA-LAKIN,” he says conversationally.

“Very lake in,” I mumble, guessing that is the name of the animal I’m eating.

“VRA-LAKIN SAISN,” he says again with a smile.

“Very lake in season,” I parrot his string of gibberish.

Then I forgo all attempts to carry on a conversation. I continue eating with my fingers because that’s apparently how we do it here. It isn’t easy, but I manage to avoid staining my new dress, which is impressive, especially given how the roast keeps dripping. Thank goodness they gave me a napkin!

I continue to eat, but eventually my stomach lets me know it’s not hungry anymore. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to stop eating yet, but I do slow down the pace. I gaze around me and study the other diners.

The men are still looking at me, with their unwavering stares and that’s when it hits me. Men. They really are all men. I crane my neck all the way around the room, and sure enough there isn’t another woman present. Just me. So much for my theory that all of the women were hiding out inside the castle.

Well, that is certainly odd. A server, male of course, comes up to our table and places two silver goblets in front of us, and a pitcher of something. He pours us each a glass, and I take a tentative sip.

“Mmmm,” I murmur appreciatively.

It’s some type of wine, and I approve. My stomach has shrunk since our capture, so I stop eating well before I want to simply because I’m out of room. I push my plate away and lean back in my chair so I can better observe my surroundings.

After a while, Bocc-d’ar pushes back his plate as well, saying something that I don’t understand. He stands and motions for me to come, so I get out of my chair. He takes my hand, and we leave the hall together.

I recognize the route he’s taking thanks to my mental map. I anticipate the turns as he takes me back to his bedchamber. Once again, we’re alone. I need to stay strong because my body is currently overrun with hormones.

He removes his Egyptian looking neck circlet and cape, placing them back on the table. I turn my back to him, and he takes off my necklace and places them next to his. They look good next to each other, and it’s obvious that they were designed as a set.

He carries me over to the bed, and sets me on top of the furs. I think he’s going to climb in with me, and I’m trying to work up the strength to resist his hot sexiness when he says something. I understand nothing in the string of unintelligible syllables he’s pieced together.

I stare at him blankly. He walks over to the door, then says something else, equally mystifying. It doesn’t even phase me when he morphs into his armor form with the trident on his back. Then, rather abruptly he leaves.

Well that’s weird. I sit upright in the bed, wondering where he went. When he doesn’t return after a few minutes I lay back and stare at the ceiling. I’m not really sleepy because I napped earlier.

Several minutes pass and he doesn’t return so I decide to explore the room. I flip onto my belly, spin my feet toward the floor and slide off the side of the bed. “That bed was too big,” I say quoting Goldilocks.

First I hit the bathroom because . . . well, just because. I use the toilet again and marvel at how it flushes itself. This whole bathroom thing is a luxury I wasn’t expecting.

These aliens are such a crazy mixture of primitive and advanced tech. Who would have guessed. Of course, thinking logically I knew they had technology because they have space travel, so I guess luxurious bathroom fixtures isn’t such a stretch after all. I look again at that walk-in tub, but can’t for the life of me figure out how to operate it because it doesn’t have any faucets.

I notice there is a basin on a table under one of the mirrors and wonder if that’s a sink. I lean in to get a closer look and water pours into the sink from a silver tube. Yay! I can wash my hands after all.

I put my hands in the water and splash some on my face. There is a bowl of colorful marble shaped balls. I pick one up wondering if its soap. Sure enough it lathers when I rub it.

Like lightning I strip off my dress and wash up as best I can in the sink. It feels like heaven. Then I dry off with a scrap of material that I assume is a towel. I put the makeshift dress back on, and decide to explore the bedroom some more.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I think it’s been at least an hour since he left. I look at the door, and I’m really tempted to see if it’s locked. I walk over, deciding to risk it. I softly grab the knob, and I’m surprised when it turns. I slowly open the door and peek my head out.

The hallway is empty. Seriously? No guard? It’s almost like they want me to escape!

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tessa

I make a lightning quick decision. This may be the only chance I get, and I’m certainly not going to waste it. I dart back into the room and grab a fur from the bed, draping it across my shoulders like a shawl. I figure that won’t look too suspicious if I get caught walking through the castle. It just looks like I’m cold, right?

I remember the route, and carefully make my way back to the dining hall. Fortunately there’s no one here now. I take off my fur shawl and lay it on a table, piling food inside. I take a platter of meat, complete with serving tray, knife and fork. I grab a full water skin, and some fruit. I tie the bundle shut and sling it over one shoulder.

I feel a little bit conflicted about stealing these things because Bocc-d’ar has been pretty nice, all things considered. But I wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t kidnapped me, so I’m not going to feel too guilty about pilfering some supplies.

I try to remind myself that he’s not my friend. He’s my enemy, a very intimate enemy that I just happened to sleep with twice. Friends don’t kidnap friends. They don’t abduct people and fly them far away to alien planets.

Eclipsa, Xairia, and the others are my real friends, and they need me. They’ve got to be freaking out. I have to get back to the city. I’m also worried about my best friend, Sarah. Sadly, I have no choice but to trust that Vorek is taking good care of her. She’s not even on the same planet so I can’t help her. If anything, I’m hoping that she and Vorek are preparing a rescue party to come get us.

I’m not sure what we’ll do when I get back to the others. We’ll just take things one step at a time. Maybe we could steal the metal head’s spaceship. My Krinar friends are way smarter than me. I bet Xairia knows how to navigate it back to Earth, or Sagren for that matter.

Actually I have no idea if they can do that or not, so maybe that’s not much of a plan. But regardless, step one is to escape this castle without getting caught. Then I have to make my way back to my friends. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

With my makeshift pack slung over my shoulder I exit the immense dining hall through a different doorway than the one I entered. I know there’s not an exterior door along that route because I searched for one when I came down from the bedroom. The halls are pretty dark and deserted, probably because it’s evening.

There is just enough light being cast from the wall sconces for me to see. I’m not sure how they work. I pull one from its holder. They don’t seem to be actual fire, although there is no glass bulb so they don’t look electric either. Strangely enough, I find it’s cool to the touch.

Footsteps coming down the hall jerk me from my investigation. I turn frantically and see that I’m next to a door. Holding my breath, I open it. Thankfully it’s an empty storage room, so I hide inside until the footsteps pass. When I’m sure the alien is gone I decide it’s okay to continue.

But first, I open my bag and tuck the sconce inside it. It’s a greasy mess in there, but they didn’t have a big pile of Tupperware on display, so I’m making do. A light will be most helpful navigating the treacherous descent down the mountain in the dark, even if it is covered in roast fat. Still, I can’t afford to let anyone see the light now. I must get out of here and find a way back to my friends.

Cautiously, I emerge from my hiding place and continue down the passageway. The next thing I know, I’ve stumbled upon the main entrance. I almost don’t trust my eyes, but quite miraculously I have found the exit to this maze. It’s deserted. Where is everyone? Is this all some kind of elaborate trap?

There’s no turning back for me now, so I open the heavy door, and step out into the night. The air is much cooler and the street is pretty empty. I see a few aliens in the distance, but am able to duck around the sides of buildings until they pass.

I make my way to the front gate and my heart drops. I forgot about that. There’s no way I can figure out how to lower that massive thing, even if I could manage to do it quietly enough that it wouldn’t alert the metal heads to my escape.

I see alien guards patrolling along the top wall. They are obviously guarding the place from attackers. They don’t stand in one place though, so I think I would be able to avoid them if I could only get outside this mammoth gate. That’s when I see it . . . a small door, about thirty feet away from the big one. It blends in well with the wall, and I only notice it because of the handle.

With my heart pounding I wait until the guard has passed above me, then step toward the door. The handle turns and opens. I can’t believe it’s not locked. Their security measures so far leave a lot to be desired.

I sneak a peek on the other side and see there is no handle on that side of the door. It only opens from the inside, which explains why they aren’t guarding it I guess. I step through and it’s instantly much darker. The pale light from two purple moons is the only illumination, but I can’t take my sconce from my pack yet. The guards on the wall would see it.

I glance up and see one of the guards atop the wall heading toward me from the left. I jerk back, hugging my body close to the wall so that he can’t see me. I wish I was wearing darker clothing, my light colored dress isn’t exactly night gear.

When the footsteps fade away, I inch out of my hiding spot and scurry toward the treeline. I run between the rows of tall vegetation in their cultivated fields, glancing over my shoulder to spot the next rotation of guards marching on this side of the wall.

I bend down and lay my body flat between the rows to hide just before one of the metal heads passes again, high on the wall. I’m close to the edge and make my way into the cover of the forest before the next one passes. I am immediately blinded when the pale light from both moons is blocked by trees overhead.

Thrust into the stygian gloom, I halt abruptly. I stand stock still, willing my eyes to adjust to the inky darkness. They don’t.

I start to hyperventilate when I realize I can’t see anything ahead of me. There is a faint light behind me, but nothing in the direction that will take me away from the metalhead’s castle. The tree cover is just too dense. I pull the pack off of my shoulder, and stick my hand inside to retrieve the sconce.

It’s covered in slick grease, but it’s soft blue light is a relief to my eyes. I wipe my hand off on a nearby plant, but it doesn’t really help. I hold the light out and the rocky uneven ground directly in front of me is revealed. I cautiously place one foot in front of the other, holding onto branches as I begin my descent.

I am reminded again how ill prepared I am for the task before me. Back on Sagren I wasn’t even allowed outside the dome since I’m human, so frail compared to the Krinar. They have nanos or whatever they call them, to heal their bodies of injuries. Even Sarah was injected with the things when she became Vorek’s charl.

I have nothing to heal me if I tumble off the side of this mountain and break my stupid neck. I know I’m a complete idiot for even attempting this escape. But I must make it back to my friends. They need me.

I know they’re freaking out and I have to let them know I’m still alive. Plus we need to be together when Vorek and the others come to rescue us. Everything is going to be okay, or at least that’s the lie I’m currently telling myself.

The descent is steep, but fortunately there are enough trees and shrubs to hold onto. That is, until I come to a spot that has nothing but loose rock. I shine my weak light around to see the best direction to take. I spy a lone bush down below, off to the right.

It’s my best option, but sadly it’s about twenty feet down. If I could get to that bush, there’d be plenty of things to hold onto after that. Would a nice paved path down the side of the mountain be too much to ask for? Or better yet, why not wish up an elevator?

I hold my light in my left hand and side step carefully. My bare feet search out solid footholds amidst the loose rock. I haven’t had shoes this whole time we’ve been captured, so my feet have gotten pretty tough, but they are already bruised from the terrain.

I’m trying not to think about creepy crawly insects, and whether or not there’s an alien equivalent of scorpions out here. The rock shifts underfoot, and I feel myself losing control. I scramble, arms flailing, and lose my footing.

I’m plummeting downward, but somehow I manage to keep hold of my light. And amazingly enough, I’m still on a direct trajectory for the bush I was aiming for. I catch a limb and manage to latch tight with my right hand as I careen by.

I feel as though my arm is being ripped from its socket, but I hold fast. My body jerks to a stop, heart pounding as I assess my situation. I’m still gripping the sconce, and I haven’t lost my pack, so things could be a lot worse.

Taking a closer look at the huge bush that saved me, I see that it’s covered with gigantic bell shaped flowers that have a sickly sweet smell. I tightly grip a branch and pull myself up onto shaky feet. I’m afraid to let go as I lift the light to see which direction I should go next.

I scream in alarm as something clamps down over my right arm, encasing it like a manacle. I whip the light around to see what has me in this death grip. One of the massive flowers on the bush has my hand squeezed tightly inside it.

I feel a strange sensation as something on the inside of the flower starts to suck and pull against my fingers. I scream in terror as sharp teeth pierce the skin on my wrist. I’m going to die because of a vampiric, bloodsucking plant!

What a terrible way to go! In total freakout mode, I pull my arm as hard as I can. The monster plant just won’t let it go. I jerk frantically, which increases the biting sensation in my arm. Horrifying visions of pulling back a stump instead of a hand fill my mind.

“No way are you getting my hand, you overgrown weed!” I shout.

I toss my light to the ground, and pin it with my foot so it doesn’t roll away. With my free hand I reach behind my back and slip my fingers into the pack. I feel around the inside and locate my knife.

Pulling it out it’s all I can do to hold back a bark of insane laughter. I think the plant is drugging me or something, because I feel weird. It has speared a piece of the meat that was also in the pack. This monster plant has a big appetite.

Something tells me it won’t be content with just my hand. It’s going to want all of me. I can’t let that happen. I fling the rest of the meat toward the bush. I struggle to get it off the knife so I can upgrade it from kitchen implement to weapon. A dozen of the maniac bell flowers strain against their branches, snapping and lunging for the meat.

“You are some scary freak of nature,” I tell the plant as I start sawing.

My knife is sharp, but the material of the bell flower is tough, like cartilage. I can hardly see because the light is on the ground and not facing up. But this doesn’t stop me. I continue to drag the knife back and forth at the base of the long flower.

I’m terrified of it grabbing my other hand. I grip the handle of the knife as far away from the plant as possible. A gooey liquid, which makes me think of blood, runs down my arm as I cut. I start to hyperventilate, but I don’t think it’s my blood because my hand doesn’t hurt that bad.

Then again, I feel a bit tipsy and I don’t know if that’s from being drugged or blood loss. With the next sawing motion I cut through the bottom of the plant where it attaches to the branch. It still doesn’t release my hand, as if even in death it’s unwilling to let go of its victim.

I use the tip of the knife to pry open the teeth of the strange plant, and at last I manage to free myself from its manacle grip. I stumble backwards and fall to my knees, panting. I scoot back on my rear end to put more distance between myself and the plant from hell.

Then I carefully inspect my hand. There are some cuts from what looks like teeth marks, but I can move all of my fingers, so I think it will be okay. I wish I had antiseptic, or even some alcohol to disinfect my hand. But I’m not that lucky.

I shine the light on the plant and see a dozen of the flower monsters straining on the branches snapping and pulling toward me, but I’m too far away for it to catch me again. I study it for a few moments while I catch my breath, then decide I’m ready to get moving again. I briefly consider going back to the relative safety of Bocc-d’ar’s castle. But I know that’s not really an option. I will not give up on my friends.

I must be losing my mind because part of me actually believes that I’d be safer as the alien’s prisoner than out here on my own. At least out here I can think clearly, an action which seems impossible whenever Bocc-d’ar is naked. Let’s be honest here, the guy is naked most of the time, unless he’s in his metal form. And even that is starting to look good to me, because I know what’s underneath it all.

“No!” I berate myself when I sense that I’m starting to cave. “I will not go back.”

Stubbornness is all I have working for me as I force myself to stand up and continue down the mountain. I have got to keep moving before I change my mind. It doesn’t matter if I am relatively safe at the castle. I will not abandon my friends.

The terrain has changed again, it’s not quite as steep, and there is a soft grassy groundcover which is much more comfortable on my feet than the rock. I shine the light down and see that it is the swirly grass blades that wrap themselves around my ankles. I start walking faster, afraid that the blades will capture my ankles and pin me in place like the plant plant did.

I hear something off to my right and shine the light in that direction to see what it is. My heart stops beating when I see a dozen red eyes glowing in the darkness. I continue to move downward, but keep my gaze trained on the pack of animals trailing after me.

They are about twenty feet off to my side. As far as I’m concerned that’s not near enough distance. All I have is a knife and, unless it’s a single creature with way too many eyes, there are a lot of them.

There isn’t enough light for me to see clearly. All I can make out is the vague outline of their shape. They are somewhere between the size of a huge dog or a small horse. I suppose it’s too much to hope for that they might be gentle herbivores. When I hear them begin to snarl deep in their throats I give up all hopes of them being plant eaters. Their menacing growls sound predatory, like wolves.

“Go away!” I scream at them, waving my knife.

I do my best not to show fear, but my bravado is naught but a thin veneer over the terror that threatens to consume me. I continue my downward path, keeping my eyes on the pack of beasts. More monsters join their ranks, and I spin around to confirm that I am now surrounded on three sides. I’m up shit creek without a paddle here.

The only place void of snarling beasts is right in front of me. It’s almost like they’re herding me in this direction. Too bad I have no choice but to keep moving exactly where they want me to. I’m not going to rush into their arms, and I don’t like my odds of winning in a fight.

That’s when I hear it . . . the thunderous crash of water. The cacophony fills my ears, becoming progressively louder with each step I take. I halt in my tracks. It’s the waterfall I saw when we were flying.

I feel the spray from its powerful force reaching me, even here on the edge of the precipice. Memories of Niagara Falls crowd my brain, filling in the gaps of what this looks like, even though the dark night doesn’t allow me to see it clearly. The way I see it, I have two options, and both of them wind up with me dead at the end. So do I want to drown, or be torn apart by wild animals?

I hear the beasts’ throaty growls, and spin around to see that the pack has closed the gap. I count at least twenty shapes now, running in unison, closer and closer. They are within the light of my sconce, and I scream in terror at the sight of them. The reality is worse than any nightmare my brain could have conjured.

Their hairless skin is a mottled gray and beige. Silver spikes run the entire length of their backs, starting between their huge almond shaped crimson eyes and running down all the way to the tips of their long hairless tails. Their mouths are formed by a full circle of sharp-pointed teeth.

Most of them move on all fours like wolves. But one of them is standing on its hind legs, almost like a man. It’s creepy, like he’s studying me. He leans his head back and lifts his head high, howling into the night sky. Then he turns his devilish red eyes back on me.

That was a signal. My screams fill the air as the first one strikes. It snarls and I stab at it with my short knife. My blade hits its mark, an eye glowing like an ember. The sharp blade pierces the soft flesh of the eyeball, and saliva sprays from the monster’s feral snout as it howls in pain.

I stumble as I wrench my arm back. I just barely manage to keep my grip on the knife, but my sconce slips from my other hand, and falls over the ledge. In a daze I watch as it tumbles end over end into the abyss. The drop is so steep that it appears to happen in slow motion.

Finally, it sinks in to the river and I see it no more. My arm is on fire where the beast’s spittle came in contact with it. It burns like fire, like acid.

Once again, I’m plunged into darkness. The only light comes from the gleaming red eyes that surround me like a wall. They press in closer, moving as one. I can no longer see it, but I hear the force of the water as it crashes behind me.

The same question from earlier repeats in my brain: Do I want to drown, or be torn apart by wild animals? My breath escapes in a hiss as I make my decision. I’m such a fool. I should never have left the castle. I can’t help the other women if I’m dead. But it’s too late to do anything about that now.

CHAPTER NINE

Sarah

Time passes slowly as our ship travels toward Krina. I can’t help but resent that each day of our journey takes us further from Tessa and the other women who were abducted by the metal aliens. I understand the council’s decision, which forced us to leave without trying to rescue them. I agree that it was the right choice, which makes me feel even worse for leaving Tessa and the others to their fate.

What kind of friend am I? Oh yeah, I’m the worst kind. The kind that’s potentially leaving her BFF to die. I’m having a hard time living with myself. My guilt, combined with my morning sickness, is making it hard for me to want to eat.

I’m a bad friend and a worse mother. What little food I do manage to put in for the sake of the baby, typically comes back up again. When I share my concerns with Quella she assures me that the baby’s nutritional needs are very minimal to begin with. She tells me to drink lots of fluids, and I take comfort in the fact that all of us women are taking the Krinar equivalent of prenatal vitamins.

Vorek recognizes my depression, and assures me at every opportunity that the council is working on a rescue plan. I try to keep myself occupied, but it’s going to be a long voyage. What has caught my interest the most is learning more about pregnancy in general. And Krinar pregnancy specifically. The more I read, the more I realize what a miracle all these pregnancies are. Especially mine.

The fact that I, as a human, was able to conceive without the help of a fertility specialist is unprecedented. Often I find my hand hovering over my abdomen. What’s inside of me is so special. I vow to be a better mother, even if it makes me feel disloyal to Tessa and the others.

Each day I try to keep myself busy when Vorek’s duties keep him elsewhere on the ship. Recently I’ve taken up yoga. I read that it’s a great healthy exercise for pregnant mothers, so I decided to give it a try. I’ve kept this to myself so far, but the pose demonstration pictures I ran across earlier today featured partner yoga. I know Vorek is busy, but there’s something about the idea of practicing these poses with Vorek that really appeals to me.

I’m a little bored and decide that I need some attention from my cheren. So, like a good little charl I send a message to his communicator. The ship is way too big for me to walk around searching for him. Especially when I feel the constant need to pee thanks to the little miracle pressing down on my bladder.

“I need you to come up to our apartment.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I have something to show you.”

“Can it wait? Zalken is showing me the results of the plant experiments he’s been conducting.”

I don’t want to wait to see my man, so I decide to play hard ball. Of course I don’t tell him I want him to come up to do yoga. I do have a brain after all. “No. Can’t wait. You need to come now.”

That should do the trick, I think closing my computer screen. I should feel guilty for manipulating him like that, but pregnancy hormones have been turning me into someone I don’t even recognize. My assertiveness pays off, and sure enough Vorek comes crashing through the door in under two minutes.

“Sarah, what is it?” he asks. The concern lacing his voice turns to confusion as he looks at me in my cute yoga outfit. I used Vorek’s fabricator to make it and it turned out perfectly. The pants are gray with a pattern of pink vines and roses. There is even a pink stretchy band for my expanding belly. I folded the waistband down to showcase my cute baby bump.

The yoga pants fit like a second skin, and I’ve opted to go sans underwear to prevent unsightly panty lines. I can tell by the mirrors on the side walls that my ass looks awesome when I do down dog, if I do say so myself. The top is a snug gray jog bra with decorative pink and gray straps that crisscross my back.

I spent way too much time designing my clothes, and honestly I can’t decide if I enjoy exercising more or getting dolled up. I’m planning something in yellow with butterflies for tomorrow. I can tell I have his full attention when he comes in and locks the door behind him.

“I want to do partner yoga,” I announce. “I’ve been practicing by myself, but I just learned that it’s an awesome bonding experience for the mother and father to do yoga together. I have an instructional lesson all cued up.”

I eagerly point to the large screen on the wall. Sadly, my plan seems to be backfiring. Vorek has a pained expression on his face, and I’m afraid he’s going to bolt, cute yoga outfit or no. So, I decide to play dirty.

I have two yoga mats positioned next to each other. I lay down on my back on one of them. I slip the fingers of each hand around both of my big toes, then spread my legs out wide to the sides, basically doing the upside down splits. My crotch is now on vivid display for his perusal, with no unsightly panty lines to mar the view.

I lift my head and stare at him through my open legs. I can tell that he is not unaffected by my prowess because there’s a telltale bulge in his pants. Maybe I should have made him some tights. I get hot just thinking about it. He’d be like a sexy ballet dancer.

Did I mention yet that pregnancy has made me super horny? Yup, my emotions are basically all over the place. It’s no doubt exhausting my mate trying to keep up with the roller coaster of ups and downs.

“I need you to tell me if my legs are even,” I practically purr.

“Uh, they look great to me,” he says taking a step closer, just to be sure.

“Oh good.” I rock up to a seated position. “Why don’t you take some of those clothes off and join me?

“Uh, sure,” he murmurs, as he speedily jerks the shirt over his head, then steps out of his pants. “Underwear okay?” he asks.

“Perfect.” I turn my head so he doesn’t see my smile of triumph as I press play to start the yoga session. Honestly I’m surprised he was even wearing underwear. Half the time he doesn’t.

The movement starts with both of us in ‘Warrior II’. We face the screen in order to see what we’re supposed to do. Then, I put out my right foot, and he places his left foot with his toes pointing toward mine. Our arms lift outward, and we clasp hands around each other’s arms as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you double,” he counters.

“I love you triple,” I shoot back, enjoying our playful banter.

As the session progresses, we find ways to make the poses more and more inappropriate at every opportunity. We go into ‘double down dog’. I press my hands and feet hip distance apart and press my rear end up into the air.

“You’re killing me,” he says, as he climbs over me and also goes into ‘downward facing dog’. He is so much taller; he easily does the posture over me. I decide to be a bit naughty, and I wiggle my bottom and it comes in contact with a definite bulge straining through his underwear. I wiggle my hips as bait.

“Just wagging my tail,” I explain naughtily.

He thrusts his pelvis forward. “This has some definite possibilities,” he says.

The instructor in the video cues ‘upward facing dog’ and I lower my hips to the mat and press up with my arms straight. He lowers his hips down and I feel his hard-on pressing against my ass.

“Yoga is a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” he announces, his breath hot against my ear.

“It sure is,” I agree. We both come out of the pose and sit down on our mats. “Don’t you think it’s hot in here though?” I ask as I strip off my jog bra. He licks his lips, and I shimmy out of my yoga pants.

“It is kind of hot,” he agrees as he takes off his underwear, his cock standing at full attention.

The instructor is demonstrating partners straddle stretch, so we sit facing each other with our legs stretched as wide as possible, and our feet touching. He’s taller, but I’m more flexible, so it works. We join hands and he pulls me forward, which gives me an even deeper inner thigh stretch. My head comes toward him, and I have an up close and personal view of his magnificent manhood.

“I can’t quite reach it, but I’m trying,” I complain.

Of course, this naked foreplay is not demonstrated on the video. But I like our version of partner yoga much better. I’m glad we’re not in a live class, that wouldn’t be half as much fun. I flick my long dark hair and it brushes against his manly wares.

“Sarah, you’re killing me,” he groans.

It’s his turn to stretch his inner thigh muscles, so I pull him toward me. He’s taller, so I wonder if his face will reach the target, but he grunts in disappointment when he realizes he’s falling short. Then he cheats, bending his knees and totally coming out of the posture. He kneels right in front of me, and his mouth is headed straight for my sweet spot.

The angle isn’t quite right, so I decide to be more accommodating. I lay on my back and grab my big toes with the fingers of both hands, pulling my bent knees along my sides. My feminine mound is on full display. Neither of us are paying attention to the video anymore.

“This position is called ‘happy baby’,” I tell him as his mouth presses to my core, which is begging for him to taste it. His tongue swirls around my clit and then he sucks me into his mouth. I’m so turned on by our yoga foreplay that I almost come the instant I feel that sweet pull on my pearl. I wriggle my slick center against his face, panting for more.

The instructor in the video has moved onto the next pose, but I decide to stay here a bit longer. It’s just that I really want to make sure we’ve got this move down right.

“I think you’re a little tight here,” Vorek says as he pulls his face away, but he hovers so close I can feel his breath on my clit.

He pushes his hands down on the back of my thighs, which stretches my muscles more, and opens my core even wider. His tongue slides down one inner thigh toward my nub, but completely misses it. I whimper as his mouth continues its exploration up the other thigh.

I remove my fingers that are pulling down on my feet and place them on his head instead, letting my feet fall to the floor. I press my hips up into the air against this mouth and pant, “Bridge pose!”

“I don’t think you’re doing the posture correctly,” he teases.

“Oh whatever. I don’t care. Just put your mouth back on me. Now!” I beg.

“I wouldn’t want to sacrifice your yoga pract—” the rest of his words are drowned out as I pull his face into my feminine folds.

His tongue slides down my slit. I dig my feet deeper into the yoga mat and raise my hips, angling for more. Who knew I was so wanton?

“You taste so damn good,” he tells me.

I would like to inform him about just how good his lips feels on my clit, but suddenly I’m spiraling out of control and words are beyond my comprehension. Who needs conversation? I am nothing but sensation.

I scream as I come against his tongue. The spasms wrack my body in waves until they finally lessen enough that I feel like I can breathe. I open my eyes to see that the video is still playing, and Vorek has turned to look at it

“I want to try that,” he says.

The instructor is demonstrating ‘wide legged forward bend’. I feel as wobbly as a newborn foal, but from somewhere I summon the strength to stand. Stumbling a bit, I turn my back to him and step wide on my mat.

I feel his eyes on me as I stretch my arms high overhead, then forward fold bringing my hands outside my ankles. This pose certainly says, I have nothing to hide, as my ass is spread eagle toward him and my slick folds are wide open for penetration. I really hope no one comes looking for him right now.

He steps onto my mat, standing behind me and places his hands on my hips. He bends his knees a bit since he’s so much taller than me and with one slick motion he penetrates me from behind, his hands pulling me in for a fit that is tighter than any glove.

“You’re huge in this position,” I squeal as he tentatively thrusts in and out.

“Too big?” he asks, obviously disappointed that he thinks I’m going to veto his game.

“Not too big. Just . . . awesome,” I pant as he begins to pull in and out of me. I look up between my legs and I can see his balls slapping against me, which turns me on even more. He begins to quicken the pace.

“Hold on to me,” I gasp, afraid I’m going to pass out because all of the blood is rushing to my head. But it feels so fantastic that I don’t care. I’m sure he’ll catch me if I do!

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

“No!” I say emphatically. “Never!”

“I’m glad because I’ve never felt this deep inside you before. It’s mind-boggling.

He pounds into me relentlessly, his fingers tight on my hips as he brings me toward him with each thrust. A crescendo builds inside both of us and he pulls me off of my feet and holds my core tight to him as he shudders deep inside of me. I feel slick and full, which means things are about to get messy.

After a few moments he comes to his senses, and releases me back down to the floor. Gravity is unkind, and I can instantly feel him leaking out of me. I choose to ignore it because that’s what showers are for.

He keeps his hands on me as I stand unsteadily. When I turn to admire him I discover that he has a dopey smile on his face. It makes me feel good knowing that I’m the one who put it there, even if I did have to trick him into coming back to our rooms.

“We should definitely do yoga more often,” he states with a cocky grin.

“Next time I’m making you an outfit too.”

“What’s the point when we’ll just wind up naked?”

“You ask some very valid questions. But I’m having fun with the fabricator anyway.”

And for a few moments I forget to be sad about Tessa. But sadly, the endorphins can only do so much, and all too soon my worry for my friend and the other Krinar women is front and center again. What if the council doesn’t send help in time?

CHAPTER TEN

Eclipsa

We are being held in a large room, deep into the bowels of the monster fortress. I’m not sure what the purpose of the area is; perhaps it’s a gathering room of sorts. It has long tables with benches and chairs. The tables are laden with bowls of alien fruit, and metal pitchers of water and glasses.

The food is familiar to what we’ve already eaten aboard the ship, so it appears to be safe. We seem to be free to move about the room so when we first arrived I checked behind a decorative screen and found what appeared to be a chamberpot. We were all pretty disgusted with the process, but each of us took our turn.

I guess this is the best we’ll get for now because we’re prisoners. They’re obviously not letting us roam freely around this place on our own to find a bathroom. I wonder if it’s chamber pots everywhere, or if they actually have running water and flushing toilets elsewhere. You’d think that a civilization advanced enough for space travel would have mastered indoor plumbing.

The room has one door. I know it’s locked because I tested it when things were quiet earlier. For the most part we’ve been left alone, but sometimes a few of the metalhead guards have stationed themselves inside.

They stare at us with unblinking laser eyes. It’s unnerving, to say the least. Some of my friends have drifted to sleep on the benches, but even though I’m bone tired, sleep eludes me. I’m barely holding it together since Tessa was ripped from our group.

Was that just yesterday? I’m not sure. I actually don’t even know if it’s day or night right now. Time has ceased to matter since our capture back in the dome. I can’t believe my life has been reduced to that of a prisoner.

The memory of Tessa being passed over their heads from one metal barbarian to the next is burned so deeply into my brain that I don’t think I will ever be able to erase it. Over and over I relive the moment where I struggled to reach her, but was held back by cold steel fingers. What happened to her?

My last glimpse of her, she was chained to a tall platform like a pagan sacrifice. I’m having a hard time pretending that she’s still alive, but I can’t let my fear show to the others. We were carried, kicking and screaming, away from Tessa and the arena.

We’ve been locked away in this room ever since. We’re all trying to cope in our own ways. We’re afraid to say it out loud, but I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing. Tessa is never coming back.

She deserved better than to die at the hands of these savage aliens. She was a good friend, and she fought hard to keep us all safe. A tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away angrily with the back of my hand.

I don’t want the others to see me crying. With Tessa gone, I know I need to step up and take her place as leader of our pathetic group. None of us are poster children Krinar. For whatever reason, the fierce Krinar warrior genetics seem to have passed over us all.

I have certainly never been strong or bold, or daring in any way. This never bothered me before. I’ve always embraced scholarly pursuits. Once I felt a secret pride that I had evolved so completely from our brutal and fierce ancestors, unlike many modern Krinar who hold their civility as a thin veneer over violent tendencies.

But with Tessa gone, the dynamic of our group is majorly off. All scared followers, with no leader. I will try to be more like Tessa for the sake of the others. I ponder again the irony that Tessa was human, yet the bravest amongst us.

“I think she’s dead,” Xairia whispers, breaking me from my reverie.

“I thought you were asleep,” I say, changing the subject.

“I’m awake too,” Ronja announces, slipping out of the chair she was sitting in and coming closer to talk to us.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” Nokey says, joining us. “I keep thinking of Tessa. Do you think they raped her?”

“That’s possible,” I shudder.

“The thought of them being cannibals has popped in my mind, but I really don’t think they would eat us. They didn’t hurt us at all on the ship,” Xairia reasons, trying to talk herself out of that horrific possibility.

I wish I could pretend that the same thoughts haven’t popped up in my head.

“No, but they were sure acting all batshit crazy when we came in that gate,” Nokey says. “That was the freaky from the barbaric metalheads on the ship multiplied by about a thousand.”

“Do you think she’s ever coming back?” Xairia asks.

I consider what to say. I could try to gloss things over and give them false hope, but I think of Tessa. What would she do? As our unofficial leader she was always decisive and blunt. So if I’m to follow in her footsteps, I guess now is the time to start.

“No, I don’t think she’s ever coming back.” The others gasp at my words, but I continue anyway. “I think we need to accept the truth. We saw her manacled to that platform. I think they’ve sacrificed her in some kind of ceremony.”

Their sobs and tears fill the room, and I allow myself to join in their grief. We mourn our dear friend, Tessa, who looked out for each and every one of us. She was the one who helped us to hide when the metal aliens first came.

She risked her life to go get water when our supplies ran out, while we hid like cowards behind the wall. She was the weakest amongst us, yet she taught us what it meant to be brave. And now she is gone.

I glance over to the long bench across from us. One of the metalheads laid Iceree there when we were brought to this room, and she hasn’t moved since then. I thought she was sleeping but even though her eyes are closed, silent tears leak from the outer corners. She is grieving with us.

She has not spoken in weeks, and has shrunken more and more into an almost catatonic state. I stand and go to her, lifting her head gently and placing it on my lap. Her eyes open reflexively, but they are glazed over with pain and confusion. She’s like an empty shell, and I fear that she will never recover.

“Ronja, would you get me a glass of water, please?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says. She pours a glass of water and hands it to me.

Lifting Iceree’s head carefully I dribble some water in her mouth. Thankfully she swallows. “That’s good,” I tell her encouragingly as she takes several drinks.

“I’m so glad she’s still drinking,” Ronja says.

“Me too,” I agree. “Hand me a piece of that purple banana and I’ll try to get her to eat a bit.” I pinch off a small piece and place it in her mouth. I’m relieved when she swallows it too.

I help her sit up, and she slumps against the back of the bench, but doesn’t lay back down.

“Everyone, let’s make sure and help Iceree move to different positions. The guards seem to be very curious of every move we make. We don’t want them to notice she’s not well.”

My friends nod in agreement. I don’t think the metal heads have noticed just how out of it Iceree is yet. I’m afraid that if they realize her vulnerable state it might make her more of a target for their cruelty. She couldn’t even fight them if they took her next. A flashback of Tessa, trying to fight when they took her comes to me, and I shudder involuntarily.

“Hang in there Iceree. We’re going to make it through this,” I lie to her and the others. “We just have to hold on until Vorek comes with the team to rescue us.”

I make eye contact with each of my friends, and I think they believe my lies. In truth I find it almost impossible to keep any hope alive. Vorek and the others are probably long since dead, because, if they were alive, why didn’t they come back to rescue us when we were in the dome?

And now we are light years away, in a galaxy none of us even knew existed. Even if they are alive, how would they track us here? I know of no way, but then again that is not my field of expertise.

Acting in my newly acquired role as leader, I will pretend for the others. Hope may be the only thing to keep us alive. I only wish Tessa were still here so I had someone to comfort me.

The door slams open, and I jerk involuntarily. I look up to see the two guards who have been outside our door are in some sort of altercation with two metalheads I haven’t seen before.

One of the new ones has a wicked looking sabre melded to one arm, and the other has one of those creepy chainsaw arms. It’s obvious they’re trying to get into our room, but our guards are not letting them pass.

Their voices rise in their abrasive tonal language. Then all four of them begin to vibrate with that horrifying chattering sound they all make. Right before our eyes metal weapons emerge from the arms of our guards.

The shiny silver one has a massive hammer on one arm and a battle axe on the other. The dull gray one’s arms mutate into daggers. I don’t even know who to root for, because they’re all bad guys as far as I’m concerned.

The shorter one lifts his chainsaw arm overhead and it instantly begins to spin and whirl. He seems to be able to rev it up at will and the horrifying sound reminds us of what that cruel weapon would do to our soft bodies. Even though we Krinar are self-healing thanks to our nanos, there would be no hope for a dismembered limb here in this remote location . . . not without medical intervention.

I’m chilled to the bones. My screams blend in with my friends as we huddle closer to each other. We aren’t prepared for such savage violence.

The silver guard raises his hammer menacingly and shouts authoritatively, but the chainsaw alien isn’t backing down. There’s no warning before they launch themselves at one another. The alien with the chainsaw swings his deadly arm downward, but the guard swiftly intercepts, striking a mighty blow with his hammer.

This sideways trajectory causes the chainsaw to arc out of control, and my eyes widen in shock when the weapon eats through the leg of the man welding it. His scream fills the air as blood spurts from his wound. What’s wrong with these people? Why are they so determined to get their hands on us?

Even with his leg butchered, the intruder doesn’t back down. He tests the strength of his wounded leg by placing his weight on it, and lifts the chainsaw again. His companion’s sabre slices with savage intensity to the side of the dagger-armed guard’s throat.

The guard feints to the side. The sabre nicks him in the neck, but it doesn’t cut deep enough to kill him. I make a mental note of the vulnerable mesh at the guard’s throat. We must learn our enemy’s weaknesses if we are to stand a chance.

The guard steps forward and with one smooth movement he ducks down and thrusts both of his daggers toward the mesh between his opponent’s legs. The sabre wielding alien roars with rage, but the stab at this unprotected area has only produced a small amount of blood. The chainsaw alien kicks the hammer guard in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward into the room.

We scream louder. The battle just moved into the room with us. With the door now unprotected the sabre arm attacker manages to slip by the other guard and into the room as well. He heads straight for our group and grabs Ronja, who is the closest to the door.

I search desperately for a weapon, but there’s not even a butter knife to eat with. He spins her around and raises his sabre, just daring the guards to come closer. Ronja struggles against him, kicking and screaming. She may be stronger than the average human, but she is no match for his barbarous strength.

He holds her tight in his iron grip, dragging her toward the door. I try to run towards her, but I feel hands holding me back. I want to scream at my friends to let me go, but deep down I am relieved that they spared me from a similar fate.

The ear splitting boom of a foghorn fills the room. We clap our hands to our ears in unison. Even the attackers stop in their tracks at the invasive sound. All eyes turn to the doorway as more metalheads pour in to secure the room. Honestly, I don’t know if we should be relieved or worried.

The harsh chattering increases in volume to an almost unbearable level as our two attackers stare at the force that has been directed at them. All is now silent as they contemplate their choices. After long moments of indecision, Ronja is released by the chainsaw and sabre aliens.

They step back and hold their empty hands in front of them, admitting their defeat. The room is soon cleared and our door is shut and locked with us inside. It would appear that we’ve been saved . . . but for what purpose? I’m more afraid than ever, but I must be brave for my sisters. I must stay strong.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tessa

Weighing my options quickly, I decide to take my chances and jump off the cliff into the raging river. I take a huge breath because you never know. I might not drown if I’m lucky! I turn my back on the pack of monsters. I’m braced to leap, but that’s when I hear him.

“TSSS!”

“Bocc-d’ar? I’m here!” I scream.

Somehow he has found me! My legs shake as I scurry away from the edge of the cliff. I have options now, and the waterfall has lost its allure.

One of the beasts turns away from me to face Bocc-d’ar. I’m relieved to see that he’s brought his big trident. I’ve seen what he can do with that thing in battle.

“VASTU!” he commands harshly.

This is one of the few words I know of his language. He wants me to come to him. His eyes are trained on the snarling beasts, not me.

The beasts seem to have forgotten me as they rally to tackle the larger threat. As the monsters step toward him, I notice an opening on one side. Feeling a renewed sense of hope, I rush through it. I’m almost to Bocc-d’ar when I feel a sharp pain in my ass. Something is biting me!

I wail and drop to the ground like a stone. My barbaric hero lashes out with his trident and the pressure on my butt releases as Bocc-d’ar cleaves the beast’s head from its body in a single blow. The rest of the pack takes a collective step back, as though they are no longer sure if I’m worth the effort.

I use this opportunity to limp over to where my hero is crouching. I drop down wearily behind him. He’s my ticket to survival, and well I know it.

The leader of the pack stands again on its hind legs facing Bocc-d’ar. I watch it all go down through my alien’s legs. My hair stands on edge. What if Bocc-d’ar isn’t strong enough to best them all? Why didn’t he bring any of his men?

No one’s moving. It’s a staredown. The beast howls at the moons which seems to be the signal for the monsters to attack. There is a light emanating from my trident man’s armor, so I can see the hairless wolf monsters in more detail than when I had my sconce earlier.

Acidic drool slips from their tongues, which are lolling over razor sharp teeth. I see a branch nearby on the ground. I reach over to pick it up. It’s a rather puny weapon against these monsters, but better than nothing.

Their leader must be a coward because he stands his ground, allowing the rest of his pack to advance in front of him. They form a tight semicircle around us. I decide that standing is a better position and get back on my feet.

I wave my branch wildly in their direction, and one of the monsters lets out a series of snorts. I swear the thing is laughing at me. Maybe these things are more like alien hyenas than wolves.

Bocc-d’ar stabs another beast, impaling the back of its neck. Then he retrieves his trident out with a jerk as the beast slumps to the ground. He turns slightly, positioning our backs toward the left side of the sheer drop.

With each step we seem to be retreating slowly toward the top of waterfall. I hear a zing of metal on metal and realize with a start that a long sabre has emerged from his other arm. I wonder how many weapons he has in that armor of his? For the first time I hope it’s an arsenal. I really don’t want to die.

Another of the beasts is decapitated as it lunges toward me. I raise my puny branch and shake it wildly at the next one advancing to my side. I keep up with Bocc-d’ar step by step as he moves.

But he seems to be leading us back towards the waterfall. I’m not sure what good that will do us, but it seems to be his plan. Maybe he’s a really good swimmer. It would seem I’m back where I started.

Before we can get there they all rush at once. His sabre and trident slash and stab with a frenzy. I’m able to bash at least one of the beasts in the eye with my branch. Who says I’m not a team player?

Right when I’m busy congratulating myself, spittle from another of the beasts splashes my arm. I scream when I feel the acid burn my skin. We have reached the edge of the falls now, and the sound is so loud it’s deafening.

I’m poised on the precipice, gripped with uncertainty. What should I do? Moving in unison, the pack swarms us. Bocc-d’ar shoves me into the fall and I scream as I tumble inside.

Instead of falling to my death, I land on a rock ledge running along the falls’ center. I scramble away from the sheer drop and hug the side of the mountain, watching as the beasts swarm him. I scream in horror as Bocc-d’ar is overtaken by their superior numbers. They are going to kill him, and it’s all my fault. I feel a deep stab of guilt laced with regret.

They growl and snarl, their razor sharp teeth ripping into the soft spots between his armor plating. Dead bodies are strewn all around him, but more beasts always replace the fallen ones. What can I possibly do to help him?

His skill as a fighter is out of this world. I’m reminded of the battle in the arena. But this is different. The sheer number of opponents is staggering.

A large creature jumps Bocc-d’ar from behind and sinks its teeth into his shoulder as he fights three more in front of him. I hear and smell the sizzle of their acidic saliva burning through the mesh between metal plating. I’m horrified as I imagine what it is doing to the soft exposed flesh underneath. As those wicked teeth sink in deep, depositing venom directly into his bloodstream.

If it feels anything like my ass, it has to be agony. And the beast only had its teeth in me seconds before Bocc-d’ar killed it. The force behind Bocc-d’ar’s powerful thrusts lessens. That’s when I realize he’s succumbing to the poison deposited in his system.

Bocc-d’ar falls hard, flat on his back, and the beasts pause their attack to watch what he will do next. The arm holding the trident falls to the side, coming to rest on the ground closest to where I am standing inside the falls. Without considering the consequences I lean over and reach my hands out from behind the curtain of the water.

I grab onto his arm, just below the trident head. I pull with all of my might. He is huge and dead weight to boot. I dig my heels in again, and am relieved when he starts to inch towards me.

I keep on tugging. The beasts don’t seem to notice at first that his practically unresponsive body is moving. He must be conscious enough to realize what I’m doing because he digs his heels into the ground and pushes his weight in my direction. His help is enough.

The monsters snarl and lunge and I can only assume that they’ve caught on to my stealth activities. One latches onto Bocc-d’ar’s ankle and tries to jerk him back. But it would seem that my alien has more fight left in him.

He sits up and thrusts his sword through its skull, then let’s go as I drag his body the rest of the way inside the waterfall. I look at them through the curtain of water as they slowly back up. They howl and their leader steps forward, but doesn’t follow us inside the water’s protection.

“They’re afraid of the waterfall,” I say aloud. “That’s why you pushed me in here,” I tell my wounded rescuer

“TSSS,” he whispers, then starts trying to crawl across the rock ledge to the other side of the waterfall. He only goes a couple of feet before he stops, rolling onto his back. I crawl over his still form and pick up his metal head, placing it on my lap.

I stare into the blue lights which shine behind his eyes when he’s in his metal form. His armor is reflecting light from somewhere and I can see huge chunks of the metal has been eaten away by the wolves’ acidic saliva. As his eyes lock with mine, the light dulls, then goes out behind his eyes.

“Bocc-d’ar! No!” I shout at him, willing him to return to me.

As if in answer to my plea, his body changes, the metal armor dissolving to reveal a beautiful flesh and blood warrior beneath. He is naked, except for a leather loincloth. I hear the wolves howling just a few feet away, outside the curtain of falling water that separates us. I’m afraid that at any second they will muster up the courage to push through the veil of water.

I thread my fingers through my rescuer’s long hair and say his name again. “Bocc-d’ar! Wake up! Please? Bocc-d’ar! I don’t know what to do!”

His eyes open at the sound of my voice, and he shudders. The acid melts deeply into his flesh, burning him from the outside in. Blood and pus pour from his wounds. He struggles to stand, and I help him to his feet.

He stumbles as he takes a couple of steps, but now I understand that he wants to take us deeper into the fall. I sling his arm over my shoulder as I try to help support his massive weight. The rock beneath our feet is slippery from the water, and the roar of the falls increases the further in we walk.

It is such an eerie sensation to traverse this narrow ledge with the wet rock of the mountain to our left, and the curtain of raging water falling to our right. One misstep would plunge us into the dangerous pool, and to certain death below. We move slowly and I feel with my toes first before each step because the width of the ledge is uneven.

Eventually the sound of the alien wolves’ howling is swallowed up by the roar of the falls. But that doesn’t mean I let down my guard. I continue to push forward, almost dragging him at points, but eventually we stumble out through the other side.

The topography is very different here. There are no trees, and we are on a wide barren rock ledge. We both fall to our knees, gasping to catch our breath. From out here I can hear the howling again, but it sounds muffled and distant so I don’t think they’re close . . . yet.

The beasts call to each other as they run. My mind might be playing tricks on me, but I think that they’re getting louder. Suddenly I fear they have another way around the falls and are running to this side.

Bocc-d’ar lifts his head and looks to the sky. He opens his mouth and the sound that comes out is unlike any I have heard him make so far. It is vaguely like the roar of a lion, but much louder and with a lower pitch.

I wonder what it could mean. Is it a signal to the other aliens? A warning to the hairless wolf beasts to stay back?

I don’t have to wait long to find out. I hear a sound overhead and look up to see a huge form flapping its wings above us. It’s the dragon. With no cover from trees on this side of the falls, the light from the twin moons reflects off ruby red scaled armor plates. It flaps its wings twice. Then it flops clumsily to the rock, somehow managing to not knock us off the edge.

It makes a mournful cry as it turns its head in our direction. Bocc-d’ar stands unsteadily on his feet and takes my arm, pulling me toward the dragon. I hear the wild cry of the pack as their howls reverberate across the rocky ledge.

I can tell that they are on this side of the falls with us now, and they are getting closer by the second. We have to get out of here! The dragon lies down on its belly and touches its head to the rock, making itself as short as possible.

There will be no comfortable saddle for this trip. Bocc-d’ar reaches his hand across its neck, leaning into the beast. He groans with immense effort as he pulls his injured body onto the dragon’s back. I push upward on his hips, hoping to help in some way. Just then something darts past in my peripheral.

And that’s when I see them. They’re here, and I swear they’ve called in reinforcements because their numbers have swollen.The pack howls in fury, closing in again for the kill.

Bocc-d’ar reaches his hand down to me. Teeth from one of the wolves grazes my calf as Bocc-d’ar lifts me onto the dragon’s back, swinging me up behind him. I dig my toes into the scales of the dragon’s sides like stirrups.

There is no saddle, so I squeeze my thighs around its spine. My leg burns, and throbs in unison with my ass, but I can tell it’s minor. Just a drop of the monster’s acid saliva touched me. But my rescuer didn’t get off so easily. He must be in agony.

I hold onto Bocc-d’ar, not entirely sure if he’s providing the stability I need, or if I’m the one anchoring him to the back of the dragon. The ruby dragon stands and turns toward the beasts. It lifts its massive head and fire erupts from its mouth like water from a fireman’s hose.

“Why didn’t you call the dragon sooner?” I can’t help but lecture him.

It’s probably a good thing he can’t understand my ungrateful criticism. A half dozen of the beasts erupt into flames as the dragon flaps its wings and leaps from the cliffside. I feel Bocc-d’ar sway in front of me as the dragon banks to the right.

“Don’t you dare pass out! If you do I swear I’ll never let you put your penis in me again!” I shout into his ear.

When I hear him mumble “PENUSSS” softly I know that he’s still with me. And it’s as though my mention of his favorite bit of anatomy has revived him. He sits a bit taller and talks in his strange language. I will happily put out again if that’s what keeps him alive and on the dragon with me.

I’m no longer naive about my ability to traipse around his savage world alone. I need a protector and he’s the only one I want. It’s a shame I didn’t realize this sooner.

He’s communicating with the dragon somehow, and in a span of mere minutes we’re landing just outside the castle walls. I see the men on the parapet and start shouting to get their attention.

“Over here!” I yell at them. “It’s your master! He needs you!” I shout.

I know they can’t understand my words, but that doesn’t seem to matter because they must have recognized the dragon. The drawbridge is instantly lowered and guards begin pouring out of the castle. They’re on us in seconds.

They reach out and lift me off. Sensing that he’s safe at last, my hero gives up the fight to stay conscious and falls from the dragon’s back into their waiting arms. With nothing but the tiny loincloth, most of his body is on display.

From what I can discern, via the twin moon’s silver light, his wounds are serious. They look like something you would see on a burn victim. Waves of remorse wash over me. It’s my fault he’s injured. If I hadn’t tried to escape he wouldn’t have been out there in the first place.

But wait. This is crazy. Why should I feel guilty that I got him hurt when he’s the one that kidnapped me in the first place? And why should I feel so grateful that he saved me? I never asked for any of this!

I’m so confused I don’t even know what to think anymore. My mind is absolutely twisted though because, logical or not, I definitely feel like I owe him . . . big time. This terrifies me. I’m afraid for my captor? I’ve officially lost all my marbles.

I’m shaking like a leaf as I allow them to lead me inside with him. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m cold and wet, or if it’s because I’m in shock. It hits me as we step inside the warmth of the castle. I almost died tonight.

I’m still young. I haven’t even really lived yet! I’m not ready to die. I haven’t done any of the things I wanted to do with my life. Everything is so wildly out of control that I wonder if I will ever get to make any choices for what I want to do ever again.

I allow myself to be swept along with the group of metalheads as they carry Bocc-d’ar inside the castle. Running away again doesn’t appeal in any way. I’d have to be suicidal to return to those woods alone. And what good would I be to my friends if I’m dead?

Who am I kidding? I’m in no position to save the other prisoners. I wanted to be their hero, but I can’t even save myself. If it weren’t for Bocc-d’ar I’d be toast. Reality hits my like a firm blow to the gut.

I’m stuck here, I realize as we rush down the street toward the castle. I don’t know for how long, but it could easily be forever. I’d like to think that Sarah and Vorek are still out there working on a plan to rescue us, but the realist in me says that’s just wishful thinking.

They’re probably all dead, I admit to myself. Tears leak down my face as I move numbly toward the castle. I shed tears for Sarah, my best friend, who was probably a casualty of the battle at the dome. Tears for all of my Krinar friends who I will never see again. Tears for myself as I admit defeat. And strangely enough, I weep for Bocc-d’ar most of all. I’m afraid that he’s not going to survive. What will I do without him?

CHAPTER TWELVE

One Month Later . . .

Bocc-d’ar

I lie abed, watching my mate sleep. The covers rise and fall with each sweet breath. I lift the soft furs slightly so that I can peek under and admire her more closely.

Her perfect nipples strain against the soft gray fabric of her shift. I wish that she would sleep in the nude so that I could see her beautiful body more intimately, but she does not seem to understand my wishes. I myself sleep in my flesh form with no clothing, but as of yet she has failed to catch on.

We are newly mated, and we will have the rest of our lives to learn each other’s likes and dislikes. So for now, I do my best to remember exactly what she looks like under her clothing. At least she no longer needs the bandages from her encounter with the Sprek beasts. The constant reminder of how close she came to dying was more than I could bear.

I am still afraid to leave her side, even though there has been a complete cycle of the moons since that horrific night in the woods when I almost lost her. If only I could comprehend her strange tongue. It’s imperative that she understand the myriad dangers lurking outside the castle walls. I’m still confused and flabbergasted about why she fled the safety of my keep in the first place.

How has she even reached adulthood with no knowledge of how to defend herself? She seems to be ignorant of how to navigate dangerous terrain, and of which plants are venomous. Did her parents teach her nothing?

I shudder as I recall how terrified she looked when I finally found her, surrounded by the Sprek beasts. They had her cornered against the great falls. It sickens me to know that had I arrived scant seconds later, I’d have been too late. Either the raging waters or the hairless demons would have claimed her life.

To lose my mate after I have finally found her is unthinkable. I could never be happy with my lonely existence again. My sweet TSSS has brought new meaning to my life, and unfathomable joy. But she has also taught me to fear, a feeling I never really understood. Before TSSS I had nothing to lose.

I slide back her sleeve and examine her skin. She had a few small burns from the Sprek’s saliva. As I look at her arm I am pleased to see that I can no longer even tell where the blemishes on her fair skin were. She’s so fragile.

I hold my own arm up to examine it. My injuries from the Sprek beasts were more substantial, but are nearly healed. Fortunately I have a skilled healer with extensive knowledge of herbal poultices to counteract the poison in the beasts’ burning saliva.

As I regard my other arm, I see that nothing remains of their acidic burns but a slight puckering of the flesh. The new skin that has formed to replace that which was burned is a lighter color, but I’m sure my arms will look completely normal soon. But I would gladly bear any number of scars in order to save my mate.

I wouldn’t hesitate to surrender my life for hers. I still can’t believe she left the security of the waterfall in order to drag me to safety. For all her lack of skills and knowledge, she is a fierce one, my TSSS.

With fondness I recall the concern on her sweet face as she sat by my bedside while I healed. If I’m being completely honest, I may be prolonging getting back to my duties. But I have so enjoyed the delights of her company in my bed while I recovered. I have not been able to force myself to leave her.

And, if only to myself, I must admit that I am fearful of letting her out of my sight. What if she tries to run away a second time? She has no survival skills. What if she attempts this foolishness again and I don’t arrive soon enough to save her?

For the thousandth time since traveling to the planet where we scattered our native seeds, I wonder where she came from. She is certainly not from that planet because it was barren when we discovered it. There wasn’t a trace of vegetation or living things to be found originally.

But when we returned to check on the progress of our plantings, we were shocked to discover the strange bubble with these frail strangers inside it. They had looked so much like us, that at first we’d assumed they would shift into their metallic battle forms. But they never did.

When we were attacked by the hostile warriors of her race, I made the decision to bring the women with us when we fled. Women are so scarce in our world, and these were obviously not being kept safe where they were. What careless race of people would leave their unprotected women alone in a frail glass dome?

A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts. I get out of bed and pull a blanket around my hips as I answer it. It is my second in command, who has been running the estate while I recover.

“What is it, Sa-br’wren?”

“There’s been another Hock-ver raid. A dozen of the Vra’lakin have been taken.”

We’d had the Vra’lakin grazing on the hill outside the wall so that they could fatten up in time for winter. My people need these animals for food, and losing this many of them is no small thing. Much hunting will need to be done to replace the meat in our winter stores.

My gut clenches. I’m angered that our enemy, the Hock-ver, has been so bold as to come yet again onto my land. How dare they take that which is mine?

“Was anyone injured?” I ask grimly.

“No, the Hock-ver were spotted from the wall, but by the time a group of guards reached the paddock, the thieves had herded the Vra’lakin deep into the forest. The guards know your standing orders not to pursue our enemy into the woods, and they obeyed.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” I ask, sensing that there is more bad news.

“Yes, there is a problem with the crop of Wev in the lower field. It has developed leaf wilt, and there is concern among the growers that it may spread to the other fields.”

I sigh, realizing my blissful time of recovery in my room with TSS has come to an end. My duties as owner of this large keep call to me. I have neglected them long enough.

Now that I’m healed it is time to get back to work. So many lives depend on me, and this is a responsibility that I do not take lightly. Ensuring that we have enough food stockpiled for winter takes top priority. I have much to do.

“I’ll be right down,” I tell Sa-br’wren, as I close the door.

Turning to my mate I see that she is awake, sitting up in bed with the furs clutched to her chest for modesty. Why she thinks to cover herself from my gaze when I have seen and tasted every inch of her over this last fortnight only serves to amuse me. My manhood stirs at the sight of her.

I want nothing more than to claim her again, over and over. I know I will never tire of placing my seed inside of her. But my duties call, so I must leave.

I brief her on what has happened, and of how I must go tend to these issues. But of course she doesn’t understand my language any more than I understand hers. We have a few shared words now, such as our names, and of course her love words KSSS and PENUSSS. But these are not nearly enough words to truly communicate.

I allow my body to shift into its ever ready battle form. Liquid metal enfolds me from head to toe, forming a solid protective encasement around my body. From behind my protective visor I continue to admire her tempting form.

Relief fills me as I note that she no longer flinches when I transform. For the thousandth time I wonder what she is thinking. She probably hates me for bringing her to my world. Yet there have been times since I was injured when her feelings toward me seem to have softened. I walk over to her and gaze down into her eyes.

“KSSS?” I ask softly.

She opens her arms in an invitation and I allow the metal to retreat from my head as I lean down to place my mouth on hers. I find this custom of hers to be quite enjoyable, and I am honored that she likes to do this with me. My tongue mates with hers, a shallow imitation of what I really want to do. My manhood stirs, but duty calls, so I regretfully step back.

“BYYYYY,” she calls out, waving her dainty hand at me.

I lift my hand and emulate her words and mannerisms. “B-I-I-I-I,” I repeat, even though I’m not sure what this means exactly. It seems to be some sort of symbolic departure gesture. There are so many things about her that I don’t understand, but her presence fills me with a sense of joy I have never known before. Who knew having a mate could be so incredible, yet at the same time emotionally exhausting and stressful.

I leave her and walk down the stairs and out of the castle with a renewed sense of purpose. Everyone I see as I traverse the street seems to have been quite concerned for my health. It takes me longer than expected to make my way outside the great wall because I am stopped so many times by my men who wish to share their joy at seeing me fully recovered.

Once outside the gate I walk toward the lower field where I see my chief grower, Addare. He is inspecting the plants in question.

“Is there any way to salvage the Wev crop in this field?” I ask, getting right to the point.

“Glad to see you’re up and about, Bocc-d’ar. And no. The wilt disease has spread too rapidly,” Addare says.

He hands me a stalk to inspect. The crop is still in the green stage and I see a powdery white mold covering both the leaves and the heads of grain.

Addare continues, “We need to cut it down to the ground and take the infected plants far from here to burn them. Also this field needs to be burned to purify the soil. As an additional precaution, no Wev can be planted here for at least four cycles.”

“Has it spread to the other crops?”

“No, and only Wev is susceptible to this particular fungus. This is why I never plant two adjoining fields in Wev. I am hopeful that as long as we remove the infected grain immediately the other fields will be safe. I’m having all other Wev fields inspected by my most knowledgeable men as we speak.”

“Get started with cutting it down then. And Addare, thank you. Without your diligence we might have been without bread this winter.”

“Exactly why I’ve been experimenting with growing some other grains. With the increase in this leaf wilt disease, I don’t want us to be entirely reliant on the Wev crop.”

“Are these alternate crops doing well?”

“They are. I’m ready to harvest some, and will get the grain to the kitchen for them to experiment with preparing it.”

“That’s excellent news!” I say, as I slap Addare on the back of his shoulder. He is a good man and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.

I hurry back to the castle. Kay, my war chief greets me as soon as I step back over the drawbridge. He has likely been waiting for me.

“Bocc-d’ar,” he says and nods his head in greeting. “I’m relieved that you have survived your battle with the Sprek beasts.”

“Yes, I am most fortunate to be alive.”

“Yes, you are. I hope you have learned a lesson from your foolishness.”

Kay is white haired, but still as strong as a Loxxen creature. He was my father’s war chief before he died. I was a young man of ten summers when I lost my parents. From that point Kay took over the role of a father figure in my life, and has never been one to mince words with me.

“I could not leave my mate to the dangers of the forest,” I argue. “I had to leave immediately. Surely you know this.”

“I know no such thing. At bare minimum you should have sent one of the guards to inform me of the situation. We did not even know either of you were missing until your Dar-Fnar flew back with you, barely alive. This should never have happened. If you had informed me I would have gone with you with a band of men. You are our leader. We could not withstand your loss especially not when combined with our new mistress,” Kay chastises.

“Understood,” I agree tersely. “In the future I won’t go off alone . . . unless there is no other option. Obviously my mate’s safety is our top priority, though.”

“Of course,” Kay agrees. “She is the future of our clan. Is she well?” he asks with concern.

“Yes, she is fully recovered. I am learning her ways, and the extra time with her as I recovered was well spent.”

“That is most excellent,” Kay smiles.

I know I’m not the only one imagining the pitter patter of little feet filling the castle once more. Women are such a rarity for my people, and all my men were so astonished when I returned with a mate. My TSSS is a symbol of hope for the entire village.

I am optimistic that at least one of my men who stayed behind at the great city may also win a mate from the others we brought home with us. I’m sure my TSSS would be thrilled to have one of her kind here with her. Part of me wonders if that’s why she was trying to run away.

Was she attempting to return to her friends? Surely she understands that I cannot simply take all of the women for my tribe. There would be war were I to try something so despicable. Each clan deserves the chance to rebuild their numbers.

“Perhaps the men who stayed behind will win more women at the Ja-Karr,” I say aloud.

“Sai,” he agrees.

“Yes, very good,” I nod. “Two women for our village would be an incredible blessing.”

We walk toward the castle together, and I see that he is in no hurry.

“Why are you not making preparations to pursue the Hock-ver who raided our Vra’lakin? I am recovered, and anxious to lead my men into battle against them.”

“When will you learn to consider the costs, my hot-headed son?”

“But we need the Vra’lakin. It will be a long cold winter, and we need our larders to be full.”

“No,” he says firmly. “Going after them would be a mistake. That’s exactly what they are expecting. They’re trying to lure you out of the safety of the castle. We might lose you in the battle, or others in the war party. It is not worth that risk for a few Vra’lakin. Your bravery is never in doubt, but save it for when it is needed.

“But the Vra’lakin . . .” I protest.

“I have already arranged a schedule of hunting parties to go into the forest and hunt game to supplement our meat stores for what we have lost. We will have plenty of food for winter. Your babe will not go hungry.”

His mention of the babe my mate might already carry cools my brash temper instantly. I will not risk that which I value most. Kay is the wisest of men, and I am lucky to have him.

“We will do this your way,” I tell him. Placing my fist to my chest I give him a respectful bow.

“May our enemy choke on their stolen cattle,” he says, and then we both begin to chuckle.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tessa

I grow bored as soon as he leaves. Without Bocc-d’ar here the walls of his sleeping quarters seem to close in on me. I’ve been cooped up in this room ever since the night he almost died saving me. To begin with, I was afraid he wouldn’t make it.

Even after it became clear to me that he would pull through I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. The close proximity to his deliciously naked body proved too hard to resist. I discovered that this alien race wasn’t like normal men, and that it was possible for Bocc-d’ar to maintain a near constant erection. Who knew almost dying could be such an aphrodisiac.

His injuries hadn’t diminished his libido in the slightest. At first I hadn’t given in to him because I feared it would worsen his injuries. But he soon made his desires clear, even with our language barrier. I caved the moment it became obvious that his body was healing and he was going to pull through.

I’ve suspected for a few days that his recovery was complete. Now I’m sure of it because he just put on his trident man persona and left the room on some mission. I don’t understand how, but all of the sections of his armor that had been eaten away by acid have been repaired and now his metal suit looks as good as new. With him gone now, part of my brain wakes up and I find I must do something. I can’t stand stewing in this room another minute.

I decide to explore the castle. I want to walk a bit to get some exercise, but I’m definitely not going outside the wall by myself again. I don’t have a death wish. I’m still having nightmares about those evil beasts that almost killed us.

Throwing off the gray dress that I’ve been using as a nightgown, I pull on my old jeans. I slip my arms into the shirt and tie it shut. Then I open the door. Shockingly enough there isn’t a guard stationed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d start to believe that I wasn’t really a prisoner.

But I’m not that naive. They must credit me with being smart enough to stay put now that I’ve experienced the dangers of their world first hand. In a way they are right. My near death experience has made me see the folly of trying to escape again. Fleeing into the woods would be suicidal.

I feel a pang of guilt that I can’t help my friends. I wish I could tell them that I’m sorry. If I could call them, I’d remind them to be strong. I’d do my best to encourage them. But with no way to communicate, all I can do is hope they feel my love from a distance.

It feels like I’m abandoning them, but I now know that going off on my own is impossible. I’m not good to anyone dead. Perhaps Bocc-d’ar will take me back there someday on his dragon. A girl can hope.

I know that the dining hall is to the right and down some stairs, so I decide to go the opposite direction. It’s a big castle, and I’m determined to explore every inch of it. I make a left, following a hallway I’ve never taken before. After a few turns I find a circular staircase. I climb up.

Stairs are great exercise and after all that time lying around with Bocc-d’ar while he was recovering I feel as though I’m at risk of losing my hard earned muscles. The staircase seems to extend forever. Again I marvel at the many similarities of this place to a medieval castle, but there’s way more metal than stone.

I must be in one of the towers. Every dozen steps or so there’s a new window cut into the curved walls. I enjoy glimpses of the landscape as I continue to press upward.

The walls of this staircase are a shiny silver, swirled with copper. The effect is striking. It looks like the two metals were blended together as liquids and swirled around but not mixed completely. How on earth could builders possibly handle molten metal for such a huge surface?

And I thought you couldn’t blend different metals because they would corrode. But that’s obviously not happening here. The steps are comprised of yet more alloys, this time they are ivory and ebony colored. I feel like I’m walking on the keys of an enormous piano.

Bocc-d’ar’s people are such a strange mixture of barbarity and civility. I’ll never forget the gruesome battle in the arena. Yet, for all his strength, Bocc-d’ar almost died saving my life. Given their mastery of space travel I know this race of aliens must be extremely intelligent. But their way of life is crude and rustic, as though they never left the Dark Ages.

I’m out of breath by the time I reach the top. I definitely need to get back to my workouts. I step through the open doorway and onto a narrow balcony that encircles the top of the turret.

Wow. The panoramic view from up here rivals what I saw when I was riding on the dragon. I take my time exploring the space. The view is breathtaking.

I peer down at the village below and the people walking around look so small. I spy the guards patrolling along the castle walls. I can see for miles in every direction. The wild forest spreads over one side. The other section seems almost empty in comparison, thanks to the harsh barrenness of the rocky mountain.

This castle was clearly built here for defense. Enemies would be spotted easily if they tried to scale the mountain. And bringing up siege equipment would be virtually impossible. The lush terrain on the other side would be easier to navigate, but the dangers of the forest serve as a deadly deterrent.

I marvel anew at the stupidity of my bungled escape attempt. A fresh wave of guilt rises over my inability to help my friends. I can’t seem to get them out of my mind. I never would have guessed when I left earth that I would grow so close to these Krinar women. But I did.

It doesn’t matter one bit to me that they’re aliens, and that they conquered my home planet. Our relationship transcends race and politics. They took me in when I needed friends. I know their fears and insecurities. They need me just as much as I once needed them.

I must try to get over the hollow ache in my stomach, over my failure to help them. I remind myself once more that I’m no good to them if I’m dead. I hate admitting defeat, but I must find a way to move on and build some sort of life here for myself.

None of this is my choice. It’s not my fault I was ripped away from them. I certainly never wanted to be tossed onto the back of a dragon and flown far away from my friends. Part of me feels like if I settle into this new place that I’m betraying my Krinar friends.

I know that isn’t true. Heck, it’s not even logical. But as the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, it’s time to make lemonade.

One of the biggest lemons in my new bag of life is Bocc-d’ar. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but the alien is growing on me. I like him. Possibly more than I should. As amazing as he is there has to be something more in my life, something to fill the long hours of the day.

I certainly can’t spend every minute having sex! I need something worthwhile to occupy my time. I’m stuck here, so how do I make the best of it? No answers come, so I decide it’s time to get back to my self-guided tour. I’d love to make a nice pros and cons list, but so far I haven’t seen any sign of paper on this planet. I’m starting to wonder if these aliens even have a written language.

I make my way back down the stairs, moving much faster than when I came up. It’s a big castle, and I’ve only just scratched the surface of all that it has to offer. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that interests me.

There has to be some way I can feel productive because sitting in that room day after day will drive me out of my ever loving mind. Back on Earth I was working and going to school full time. I didn’t have a minute of downtime. In the dome on Sagren I wanted to go out and explore with the others, but they wouldn’t let me because I didn’t have the nanos to make me strong.

So I’d taken up exercise as a hobby. I spent each day working out, trying to build muscles. Obviously I will never be as strong as the Krinar or this strange new race of aliens I’m living with, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to continue to work at staying in shape.

Fitness can’t be my whole life, though. There has to be something else for me to do here. Something that is interesting, yet useful. It’s important to me that I contribute and give back, but it has to be something that I enjoy.

I start down the stairs with a renewed sense of purpose. Once I reach the bottom of the tower, I step out into the hallway and turn left again. It quickly ends in a T and I make a right. It doesn’t take me long to discover that I’m hopelessly lost.

The hallway leads to a fully furnished room. There is a padded window seat. I sit down to take a break and look out the window. This actually helps me catch my bearings, because I can see that the room is facing the front side of the castle.

The room has a cozy almost feminine feel to it. The furniture is arranged in nice conversational areas with little tables strewn throughout. There are some unfamiliar things that I think might be musical instruments because they have strings. Most of them are bigger than a guitar, but smaller than a full-sized harp.

I stand and brush my fingers against one experimentally. Yes, it’s definitely some kind of instrument. Too bad I don’t have a musical bone in my body. I’ll have to keep looking for my sense of purpose.

Something on the other side of the room catches my eye. It looks like a quilting frame. One of my foster moms was way into all sorts of crafting. I think the only reason she took in foster kids was to support her quilting habit. Seriously, I wish I was kidding. Strangely enough, she was actually one of my better placements.

I cross the room to get a better look. Yep, it’s the alien version of a quilting frame. Unlike the ones I’ve seen on Earth which were comprised of wood, this frame is all metal. But it’s the project itself that holds my attention. The handwork is very intricate.

The squares are fine linen in shades of icy blues. The pieces sewn together are tiny. It looks like whoever is working on this is about halfway done. I see spools of silver thread, and pick one up to inspect it. It looks like metal, but is as fine as a human hair.

A layer of dust comes away on my hand. I bend down and blow my breath on the quit and the dust rises, then settles again. That’s strange, it’s as though this project has been abandoned for a long time. I can’t imagine putting in that much work and then just walking away from it.

I’ve never done any sewing, and it’s never been something I was particularly interested in. But it would be better than sitting in that room all day. Who is working on this? Maybe they could teach me. I haven’t seen a single woman in the castle, and I can’t imagine any of those burly men doing fine needle work.

I look around the room again. It’s a parlor. Like something you’d see in an old painting with ladies sitting around on this furniture and sipping tea, while others play musical instruments or work on their needlepoint. The same question I’ve had since arriving keeps repeating in my head: Where are the women on this planet?

The room’s obvious abandonment is eerie. A vague sense of unease settles over me so I decide to continue my tour elsewhere. I know from looking out the large leaded windows in this room that I’m on the front side of the castle because I see the main street below. I exit the room from the other side and go to the right which I think will bring me to someplace I recognize.

I know I’ve guessed correctly when I come to the main staircase. We entered through this door on the first day Bocc-d’ar brought me here, but I was in no frame of mind to appreciate the beauty then. I linger briefly on the upper balcony, soaking in the view of the grand entryway below. My breath catches at the artistry of the outer wall. Decorative panes of stained glass cover the entire surface in a complex design.

Standing out dramatically from a black background, massive rectangular-shaped windows rise from the ground floor to second story ceiling on either side of the colossal front door. The windows are comprised of thousands of metal panes framing glass in purples, reds, and blues.

On top of the door are round-shaped panes which create a circular geometric pattern. This section of the massive art is directly across from where I’m standing on the second floor balcony. At this level the shapes of the panes are concentric circles of yellows, green, and orange in kaleidoscopic patterns. The mammoth stained glass is artistry on a massive scale, grander than any pictures I’ve seen of the stained glass in European medieval cathedrals.

I walk down the staircase, placing my hand on the banister. The spindles supporting it are yet another example of craftsmanship. I know from my previous exploration that the dining hall is to the right. So I head in that direction, hoping to find the kitchen.

Soon I smell baking bread, so all I have to do is follow my nose the rest of the way. The kitchen is a beehive of activity. A half dozen men are working on preparing food. I’ve worked in a restaurant, but it was nothing like this.

One of the aliens is plucking the feathers from a large bird-like creature. Another is taking loaves of bread from the brick oven. They look up when I enter. I briefly consider that this is probably a place I could be of some help.

But pulling feathers from birds just seems gross. I’d rather handle my food later this evening after it’s been roasted to perfection. Back on earth I did my stint as waiter and cook, and didn’t particularly enjoy either job. I step over to the loaves of bread and point to it.

“Can I have some?” I ask, as I pantomime eating. He hands me one of the small loaves, and I smile. “Thank you,” I say as I take the loaf with me to snack on later.

I decide to head back to Bocc-d’ar’s room in case my alien has returned. Am I actually missing him? And wait, did I just refer to him as mine? I try to tell myself that it’s probably just the undeniably hot sex I’m missing. But if I’m being honest with myself, I have to admit that my feelings for him started changing the moment he almost died saving my life.

I’ve begun to consider him in a different light. If only we could talk . . . maybe then I could unravel the mystery of his thoughts.

It’s hard to judge whether he’s a monster, or a kind alien who just wants to love me. Stop it Tessa, this is idiotic, and you know better than to trust people—or aliens for that matter. I trudge up the back staircase toward his room. I guess it’s my room too now, so I might as well get used to thinking of it that way.

I’m tired, and I think I’ll eat this bread and take a nap. Of course if he’s there I could probably be persuaded into another round of sex before my nap. I shake my head because my thoughts sound crazy, even to me.

I make it back to our room, but he’s not there. Just like that I start to feel depressed. I’m getting a bit weepy. Between missing my friends, almost getting killed, and realizing I’m falling for an alien, I guess my emotions are in turmoil. I’m definitely going to need some serious therapy if I ever make it off this strange planet alive.

Bocc-d’ar

My second in command, Sa-br’wren, joins me as I meet with the men in charge of each area of the keep. As we discuss various issues, Sa-br’wren gives input, and fills me in on things that have transpired while I recovered. I make sure he understands my wishes so he can handle questions that arise without consulting me on every item that comes up in the near future.

There is much to do, and I have worked longer than planned. I don’t like to admit weakness, but it would seem as though I am not fully healed from my injuries, after all. Sa-br’wren must have noticed that I am fatigued because he starts trying to get rid of me.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, and check on your mate?” he suggests.

I know he is being diplomatic by not commenting on any weakness on my part. There is still much to do, I would have typically worked a much longer day. But I am worried about my TSSS. All day I have fretted about her attempting to leave again. I even ordered the guards on the wall to detain her for her own safety if she tries to venture past the wall without me again.

“Very well, I will go make sure she is safe.”

A sense of urgency overtakes me. I practically vault up the stairs to our room. I am relieved when I hear her moving about. I open the door quietly, but my heart drops when I hear that she is making those keening sounds again. Water pours from her eyes. I can literally smell the sadness washing over her.

A sense of failure settles over me as I watch her small shoulders shake. I am such a terrible mate that I can not find a way to satisfy her and make her happy. I gently close the door before she notices me. She would not want me to witness her weakness; of this I am sure.

I lean against the wall outside the room, silently torturing myself as I too share in her pain. Everything she has known has been ripped from her. I wrack my brain for ideas to make her happy here with me.

Perhaps some cloth so she can make herself new garments? I remember well how much my mother enjoyed her needlecraft. I wish my mother were here right now so I could ask her advice. I feel as though I’m failing my mate, when all I want is to make her happy.

Eventually the crying subsides. I wait a few more minutes before cautiously opening the door. She’s fallen asleep. She looks precious and oh so fragile, too small in the giant bed.

I let my protective armor melt away and crawl onto the mattress beside her. I snuggle as close as I dare without risking waking her. How can I show her my love? How can I bring her joy like she brings me?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tessa

The days pass, and I’ve fallen into a routine. I have to admit I look forward to the big feast in the dining hall each night. There’s always plenty of perfectly roasted, mystery meat, and I’ve branched out to trying the vegetable dishes. Most of them are delicious. And the bread is always fresh and warm.

After dinner, I have hot raunchy sex with Bocc-d’ar. This is my schedule pretty much all night, every night. The language barrier disappears when we’re in bed.

During the day, when he goes off to do his thing, I spend my time exploring the castle. Besides being fascinating, it serves as a great addition to my exercise regimen.

I try to keep busy so I don’t have time to be depressed and feel sorry for myself. Yesterday I stumbled upon the entrance to another tower. The door was camouflaged to blend in with the ornate metal-worked walls. I only noticed it because it was not completely latched. I pulled it the rest of the way open and peeked my head inside. I was very excited to find a set of stairs I hadn’t climbed yet.

By that time it was too close to dinner to explore it fully, so today I’m going back to that area. As soon as Bocc-d’ar leaves I go into the bathroom to freshen up. I love the automatic tub and shower now that I’ve figured out how to use them. I still don’t understand their mechanics because I can’t find sensors anywhere.

I strip down and step into the shower area and warm water immediately falls from the ceiling like magical rain. There are no walls, and the only thing that designates it’s a shower is that the floor is slightly dipped down for drainage. There is a table on one side with various soaps.

I can’t help but laugh when I remember the day when I discovered it was a working shower. It had all come about by accident. I’d been fully dressed when I received my first impromptu shower. I must have jumped a full foot in the air when the water hit me. I was so excited I didn’t even mind getting my clothes soaked!

Grabbing one of the soap balls from the bowl on the table, I hurriedly scrub down. I’m in a bit of a rush today because I’m excited about exploring the new tower I found. I step out and the water automatically stops as I dry off and don fresh clothes. I’m so glad Bocc-d’ar brought me an assortment of simple dresses to wear because my jeans are so threadbare they’re hardly holding together anymore.

He even brought me some pants that are basically like leggings, but made of a silky material. I wonder who these clothes belonged to because they are obviously feminine. Fine embroidery tastefully decorates the seams and hems, and they’re all smaller than what would fit the men.

I pull my wet hair back with a ribbon before stepping out into the hallway. My mystery tower is on the far end of the castle so I have a lengthy walk before I even reach the entrance. After about twenty minutes I find it. Today it’s closed up tight. I would have never even known there was a door here if I hadn’t opened it myself yesterday.

I spend several minutes fiddling with it, then notice an indentation hidden in the decorative ironwork. I slip my fingers inside it. The latch releases and I pull the door open and step inside. The staircase seems to spiral forever upward, but that doesn’t scare me. I start climbing.

There are no windows in this tower, but sconces line the walls and illuminate the steps. I wonder again how those things work. There is no light switch to turn them on, they just come on by themselves. It’s like magic. For a moment I pretend that I am Belle trapped in the Beast’s castle, surrounded by wondrous and inexplicable things. Actually, that’s not too far from my reality. My beast just happens to be an alien and a lot less hairy.

When I reach the first landing, I emerge into a large room full of books. It looks like they have paper on this planet after all! Row after row of leather bound volumes line the walls so this must be some kind of library. There’s even a second row balcony around the room where I can see even more volumes lined up. I pull a couple of books off of the shelf and leaf through them.

But this isn’t the top and there’s more for me to climb. I push on, even though I’m starting to feel winded. The stairs are steep. I consider taking a break, but decide to go all the way up in one press, because I’ve been working on endurance. Maybe I should have spent more time looking at those books after all, there’d been chairs down there.

Finally there are no more steps and I come to a flat landing. The only thing up here is a door. It’s strange and slightly spooky. I take a deep breath and push it open, shocked by what I find inside.

An ancient man sits at a table, his white hair tumbles over his brow as he writes on a large piece of parchment with a long metal pen. He’s startled by my appearance and bolts to a standing position when I enter, his body instantly transforming to his metal form. But even his armor looks old, instead of the shiny metal like Bocc-d’ar’s. He reminds me of a rusty old tin can. He lets loose a round of indecipherable alien dialogue.

“Hi,” I say. I hold my hands out in a non-threatening manner and take a tentative step closer.

He stares at me a few long moments, a dull yellow light behind his eyes. Then his rusty metal covering disappears, revealing once again an old man. He gingerly sits back in his chair, then resumes his work, ignoring me. I slowly step closer and peer over his shoulder to see what he is doing.

In front of him is an ancient illuminated manuscript, sitting on a decorative metal holder. Lights from behind him shine down so I can see each minute detail. A large papyrus sheet is on the table in front of him. Pots of paint, various sized brushes, and pens litter the surface.

It takes me awhile to figure out that he is painstakingly copying the page from the book. It is exquisite. In the center is a drawing, and fine text fills the columns on the left and right of it. I can’t begin to comprehend the picture, beautiful though it is. A tree grows from a pot full of a silver liquid. A snake winds its way around the trunk of the tree with four branches. Each limb contains a circle with a symbol.

One circle has a picture of grass growing from brown dirt. Another has droplets of water falling like rain. The third depicts a burning flame in oranges, reds, and yellows. The final circle shows a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. I believe the symbols stand for earth, wind, fire, and water, the four elements. Thank goodness I watched so many fantasy movies, or I’d be entirely out of my depth right now.

The ancient alien dips his brush in a sky blue pot of paint. Then he holds that same brush over a silver bowl. The paint in this container seems to slither and slide around like mercury. A tiny tendril of the paint rises of its own accord up to his brush, even though he did not dip it in that pot. With the two colors combined he enhances the rain drops in the circle depicting water.

“Beautiful,” I compliment him, nodding at his work.

He nods back, then motions to the smaller desk next to his. I take this to mean that I’m welcome to sit, so I do so. He stands and walks over to a shelf, taking a stack of coarse paper. This is of a lesser quality than what he is using, but I’m not about to complain.

He sets the stack of paper on my desk, along with a silver pen. It’s fancy and much longer than the mass-produced plastic pens I’m used to. It’s been fashioned for a larger hand. It has a sharp tip like a fountain pen. If it had a feather at the end, I could pretend I was Shakespeare.

I study it dubiously, and he puts some smaller scraps of paper next to me so that I can try out my new writing utensil. He lets loose with a long string of words that I don’t understand. At my blank look he slows down. He says a single word, which happens to be one of the few I know.

“EK,” he says, pointing at me.

I’ve heard Bocc-d’ar say that. It means you. That must mean he wants me to try writing with the pen. At least I don’t have to pretend to be interested. His entire process fascinates me. I dip the pen in the pot of ink he has provided, and tentatively press the metal tip down to the paper. I am pleased that it does not run messily like a fountain pen.

I practice writing my name and find that I actually like the pen. It glides effortlessly, and my penmanship looks beautiful. I’ve always liked writing things by hand and I took a calligraphy class, and several art electives in college. I have natural artistic ability. The only reason I wasn’t majoring in something creative was because I didn’t think I’d ever be able to make a living with that kind of degree.

Once I’ve grown accustomed to the pen I look up at him expectantly, wondering what I’m supposed to do next. He walks over to a shelf of books and selects one, bringing it back to me. He places the book in front of me on what looks like a music stand. Opening the book, he flips through a few pages. There is no color on the page. The calligraphy is still beautiful but this book might as well be a children’s primer compared to what he is working on.

“WOHIN,” he says.

I haven’t heard that one before, but I’m guessing it means something like, replicate it exactly. This is the first thing I’ve found in the castle that l’m actually interested in, so I dutifully begin to copy the page. I decide to work from top to bottom so that I don’t smudge work lower down if I need to press my hand on it to work at the top.

There are decorative vines with leaves and flowers on the top left. I do my best to draw them just as they are. My natural tendency would be to elaborate on what I’m copying. I generally would capture the essence, but not an exact replica. But since he is so painstakingly deliberate in copying his detailed illuminated page exactly, I know I’m to do the same thing with this simpler one.

He looks over my shoulder and nods approval at my initial progress, then goes and sits back down to work on his project. I feel completely at ease in his presence, and I get totally caught up in my work. I want my page to be perfect.

For some reason it’s important to me that this ancient scholar be impressed with my effort. I may have finally found a way to contribute. It would be amazing if I actually got to utilize some of my natural talents. Cooking and sewing are so not my things.

I lose all track of time as I repeatedly dip the pen in the ink pot and carefully apply it to the paper. I painstakingly copy the text, which is the main body of the page. The letters are all strange and unfamiliar, but I try my best to get every line and curve exactly duplicated. Finally I finish. I set the pen down, and massage my hand. It’s cramping a bit because the muscles have grown soft from lack of use.

He sets his brushes aside and stands to look. He nods, and there is a faint smile on his face.

“SAI,” he says.

I smile back at him. If I’m not mistaken, SAI means, good.

He walks back to his desk and picks up a very fine brush, dips it in red paint and walks back to my desk. In the middle of the page he adds an s swirl to the bottom of one of the letters, and looks at me to see if I understand. I look back to the original and see that he’s right and I missed a detail.

“Yes, I see that.”

“SAI,” he says again with a nod, as he takes the page from me.

I try to take it back and point to the door, trying to communicate that I’d like to take it to my room and show Bocc-d’ar.

“NIK,” he says shaking his head no.

Then before I can stop him he takes the page I’ve copied so carefully, wads it up and throws it in the fire. I gasp. My initial reaction is to be royally pissed that he just trashed what I labored so hard on. But his smiles and nods curb my irritation.

He’s still acting like I did a good job and he’s proud of me. This is just exacting work, and every little detail matters. Of course I didn’t get it right the first time. I’m still learning. I’m guessing he can only keep pages that are perfect, and my work isn’t perfect—not yet anyway. I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge.

I grin at him, thrilled that I have found a teacher. Not only will this give me something to do, but I feel it might help me learn their language. He motions for me to come to him, so I follow to the other side of the room. He takes a large volume from a shelf and opens it on yet another of the fancy book stands.

He motions for me, and I can hardly believe it, but he seems to be giving me permission to turn the pages. I look at him questioningly. Is this some kind of test? It feels forbidden, like touching antiques in a museum. He takes my hand and places it on the cover, using my hand to open the book.

“EK,” he says firmly.

I’m sure that means you. He’s saying, you turn the pages, so I do. The colors are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. The luminescence makes me think that metal was mixed with the paint, like what I saw earlier when the silver paint rose of its own accord to intertwine with the blue on his brush. Page after illuminated page is filled with wondrous illustrations. I recognize plants that are native to this planet.

I see marvelous flying dragons, not just the ruby red like Bocc-d’ar’s, but others in colors of other gemstones. The scales of their armor look so real I feel I could touch them: emeralds, diamonds, amethysts, and sapphires sparkle from the pages.

I wonder about the meaning of one section. The first page shows a naked man who is in flesh form on the left side, and the metal head armor on the other side of his body. The following pages contain many words and pictures of various metals interspersed with the earth, wind, fire and water symbols. I get the feeling that this is a ‘how to’ section for creating their armor covering.

How fascinating. If this is a recipe for making their armor shell does that mean I could learn to make an armor covering for myself? The very thought of getting my own armor makes me feel badass. I continue to flip through the pages, and am shocked by the final section in the book.

“Spaceships?” I gasp aloud. The old guy turns and looks at me with a smile. He nods, almost as if he can understand my question.

The first illustration definitely shows several of their fighter jets, which I saw on Sagren. A picture of one of their spaceships is in the top right corner of the page. A large, intricate illustration dominates the center of the page. Six dragons and six metalheads stand in a circle. The men in their metal form have their arms thrust toward the center.

Liquid metal shoots like geysers from their fingertips. The dragons are breathing fire that matches the color of their jewel encrusted bodies toward the center of the circle. In the middle is a half-formed spaceship. It is being shaped from the bottom up, with the lower half fully formed.

The top is just an outline with dragon fire around it. I quickly flip through the next few pages, which are filled with alien words, and illuminations. My breath catches in my throat. Is this why I have seen no technology here? Is the power that gives them their armor and space travel fueled by some sort of alchemical magic rather than mechanical devices?

The thought is so ludicrous that I can hardly begin to entertain it. My mind drifts back to the plumbing that seems to work on its own. I consider the lights that look like torches, but have no flame or light switches. I have not seen a single computer, or anything that would lead me to believe they have electricity, yet I know they have space ships.

Can any of this be real? Earth is ruled by science and technology, but what if these aliens are different? What if they don’t need science? What if magic reigns supreme here? Once again I feel like Belle in her magical castle. If the candlesticks start talking to me I’m going to seriously lose my shit.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Bocc-d’ar

After meeting with my second in command and inspecting the grounds this morning, I am thrilled to find everything running smoothly once more. I’ve been working hard over the past couple of weeks to catch up for the time I lost while recovering from my injuries. Now that everything is under control, I decide that my men can carry on without me for the day.

I feel I have been neglecting my mate by working too much lately. I don’t usually return to her until dinner. I don’t know how she has been spending her time, but I imagine she grows bored waiting for me each day. She refused my efforts of bringing her materials for needlework, which surprised me for I thought that was something all females enjoyed.

The inner workings of my sweet TSSS’s mind are still a mystery to me. Impulsively, I decide to return to our room in the middle of the day to surprise her. I miss her so much when we are apart. Were it not for my duties, I would never leave her.

Perhaps she would enjoy touring the herb or flower gardens. Or we could go for a ride on the grounds. Anything we do will be wonderful so long as I get to do it with her. I take the stairs at a run, eager to see her. When I open the door to our room I see instantly that she is not there.

“TSSS!” My heart starts to beat wildly. The door to the water room is open, so I cross the space quickly and search in there. Has she run away again? I never should have left her so much to herself.

My initial reactions are fear and rage that she is not here where I thought she was. I try to get my emotions under control and clear my thoughts. She is probably just somewhere else in the castle. I run down to the kitchens because that is the most logical place she would be.

My mother was always baking the best smelling foods. When she wasn’t cooking she was most often working on one handcraft or another. The kitchen is a beehive of activity as men prepare food for the evening meal, but I see no sign of TSSS.

“Have you seen my mate?” I ask in a panicked voice.

“She came down this morning and got bread and fruit to take with her, but she hasn’t been back since,” the head cook answers immediately.

I spin around and sprint to the front entry. Guards are standing at their posts as they have ever since she ran away the first time. Surely they have not failed in their duty?

“Has my mate come out this door?” I ask, trying not to sound as frantic as I feel. They’re quick to answer.

“No. We have not seen her today,” the first one says.

“She’s been wandering around inside a lot lately,” another adds.

“For some reason she seems to enjoy running up and down all the different sets of stairs. We see her doing that every day.”

The men all share a good laugh over the silly antics of the castle’s only female, but I don’t join in their mirth. I know I’m probably overreacting, but after the last time she went missing I can’t help myself. I single out the guard on the left.

“You stay at your post in case she comes through here.” Turning to the other guard I order, “Get Sa-br’wren, and tell him to bring more men. I can’t find her and she may be injured. I want the castle thoroughly searched.”

I immediately go back inside to continue my search. I start by checking the staircases, since the guards have told me of her strange habits. It galls me that my men know more about how she spends her time than I do. Likely they are right and she’s just exploring inside. But what if they’re wrong?

Or what if she is inside, but she’s lost or hurt somewhere no one will find her? My breath catches as I my mind conjures up an image of her crumpled form at the bottom of one of the many flights of stairs in the castle. I’m no longer able to search calmly, because I’m running like a madman.

Sa-br’wren brings more men to join me and we branch out in different quadrants so we can conduct our search in a more organized fashion. We communicate using our battle chatter to know which areas have been cleared. I see evidence that she has been in various rooms because of her footprints in the seldom used regions of the castle.

I pause briefly in my mother’s parlor and see that TSSS has spent some time in there. Her footprints crisscross the dust in the room, and I can tell some small things have been moved by the dust free circles. I never come in this room because it reminds me too clearly of all we have lost.

Even now I can visualize my mother and sisters working on the beautiful bed covering that was never finished. It was to be a bridal gift for my youngest sister. In my mind’s eye I see the other women who often joined them working on their needle work, and playing music to entertain each other. Men were occasionally allowed into their sanctuary, but never in their battle form.

I have avoided this place for years because of painful ghosts from the past, but perhaps that should change. Maybe my TSSS would enjoy spending time here. I shake my head and jerk myself out of my haze of memories. It’s time to return to my search.

We’ve looked everywhere, and there’s still no sign of her inside or outside the castle. I keep going back to places I’ve already checked because I don’t know what else to do. I’d already be hunting for her in the woods if it weren’t for the fact that the guards at the front door never saw her leave.

That’s when a truly horrible suspicion enters my mind. What if one of the men stole her for themselves? No! They wouldn’t, would they? I find this notion hard to believe. My men are loyal and trustworthy. Only a bastard completely lacking in honor would dream of attempting such a thing.

I don’t even want to consider the possibility of one of my men betraying me. But I know that my TSSS is very desirable. She may have provided temptation beyond what a weaker man could resist. I pray this has not happened because any man who touches my TSSS will find retribution at the sharp end of my trident.

I pass the entrance to the library and decide to check it once more. There are many rows of books on the upper level so I go up those stairs and peer over the balcony which provides me with a clear view of the lower level. Comfortable chairs and tables are arranged around the room. I remember my parents loved to read and would spend much time in this room.

My eyes sweep over the room, and that’s when I see it—the secret door to the hidden tower. The ornate ironwork pattern was designed to camouflage the entrance. There is a set of stairs on the other side of that door that I have yet to search for TSSS. She’s clever; I wouldn’t put it past her to find her way inside.

At the top of those stairs is the tower room where the monk, De-Var, works tirelessly to copy the ancient texts. The wealth of information there must be saved for future generations, but it can never fall into the hands of our enemies. The sacred books hold the knowledge that is the foundation of our very existence.

It was decided long ago that this castle is the only place in all the five kingdoms where these copies are allowed to be made. De-Var has been working for years on a third copy which will be stored in our main city. Historically De-Var has had an apprentice to help with the task, but it has been some years since anyone who has applied has met his exacting standards.

I’ve offered to get him an apprentice on numerous occasions, but over and over he has told me that if a gifted apprentice is not available, he prefers to do the work himself. The work is exacting and takes both artistic talent as well as the tedious ability to replicate manuscripts without any deviation from the original text. There has not been even a single apprentice for some years.

I use my battle communication to let Sa-br’wren know where I am searching as I bound up the stairs two at a time. Despair makes way for hope. I must believe that she is in the tower, and that this is why I’ve been unable to find her thus far. At the top I slam open the door, startling De-Var who instantly shifts to battle form.

I am pleased to know that his reflexes are still good, even though he’s ancient. My eyes scan the room, and relief floods through me when I see her. There, at the apprentice desk, she sits, copying manuscripts. She sets her brush down and stands as I step into the room.

Relief courses through me so strong and hard that I feel like weeping. She didn’t run away! I move behind her and study her work. How amazing. I had no idea she was talented in this way. I am thrilled that De-Var has made her his apprentice.

And I can see that this great honor has been granted solely on her merit, not because of her position as my mate. De-Var has already graduated her to working with color, and she is using fine parchment, which means that this page she is copying has the potential to actually be kept. Historically speaking, apprentices could go years before attaining that status.

True, it is from one of the lesser manuscripts, but nonetheless this is an amazing accomplishment in such a short time. Now I understand what she has been doing every day while I am working. Pride swells my chest so swiftly it’s a wonder it doesn’t burst. My mate is fierce and gifted.

“Thank you, De-Var.” I say to the old monk. “No one knew where she was and I’ve been tearing the castle apart looking for her.”

“WUTZ RAHHNG?” TSSS asks in her strange tongue. As usual I have no idea what her words mean.

“Come,” I implore her, holding my hand out to pull her from the room. My fear of losing her has my heart racing. Wild energy courses through my body which must be released. I can think of only one remedy, and I’ll require her assistance.

“Thank you again for keeping her safe and for taking her as your apprentice,” I tell De-Var.

“Young fools,” he mutters, shaking his head as he allows his creaky old battle form to melt away and immediately returns to his work.

I close the door only after I’ve pulled TSSS from the room and we head out onto the landing at the top of the stairs. With her back to the door I lift her up and her legs instantly wrap around my waist as I grind my hips against her feminine core. My body is afire with need.

When I feel her quivering I realize that she is as insatiable as I am. Her hands reach behind my head, pulling my mouth to hers. I find I like this custom she has taught me very much.

“KSSS,” I pant softly after we both come up for air.

“YESS, KSSS,” she agrees, pulling me in again.

My panic and anger over not being able to find her has transformed into a sexual energy which can’t be denied. I wish I could tell her how pleased I am that she did not run away, but we have so few words between us. Perhaps working with De-Var on the manuscripts will help her grasp my language more quickly.

I have only learned a few of her words, none of which can be spoken unless we are alone. I grind my hips into her more deeply, letting her know exactly what it is I wish to do with her. I groan in pleasure as TSSS begins to make that mewling sound that I love. I contemplate ripping her leggings from her and entering her right here, but then we’re rudely interrupted.

“I can still hear you!” De-Var calls from the other side of the door.

I realize I’m not going to be able to fulfill our desires just yet. I back away from the door and cup her round buttocks as I hold her close to my body. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and squeezes her legs even tighter around my waist.

I start bounding down the stairs, but then I fear what would happen if I were to trip so I force myself to slow down. I reward myself for my restraint with another sweet KSSS, because I don’t want to be distracted as I navigate our descent. I’m counting down the seconds until I can get her alone in our bedchamber and get her naked.

I pass through the library and descend the final flight of stairs. Sa-br’wren and my war chief, Kay, are just entering the room with two other men when we arrive. I drop TSSS to her feet, and take her hand, pulling her quickly behind me as we head for the exit.

The last thing I want is my men seeing my mate as she pants with need for me. That is something for us to share in private. And somehow I will find the strength to wait until we are back in my chambers before I enter her . . . even if it kills me.

“She is now De-Var’s apprentice,” I tell them as we exit the tower.

“This is wonderful news indeed,” Kay announces. “This is a good day for our people. The wait for a new apprentice has ended.”

I do not wait for him to say anything else, but pull my mate with me and take the most direct path to our chambers. I do not pick her up to carry her because I do not trust the small thread of restraint that I am exercising to hold if I feel her soft core against me once again. Only the fact that I can not risk my men seeing her naked keeps me from ripping her clothes off and taking her right here and now.

Her body is for my eyes only. I can not bear for the others to look upon her in this way. Finally, we reach our chamber. I open the door and pull her inside. The bed is too far away, so I slam the door shut with one swift motion and back her against it.

I jerk the tunic over her head and then I push the leggings down to her feet. She quickly steps out of them as I bend to my knees and nuzzle the soft curls between her legs. She gasps with pleasure when I flick my tongue against the small nub hidden in her delicate folds. I push a finger inside her and she moans with need as she widens her stance in order to grant me full access.

She shivers against my tongue as I nibble and lick her, worshipping her mound with my mouth. Her thighs tighten and I feel the tension building inside her. She screams as the ultimate pleasure rips through her. I don’t even wait for her release to subside before I stand.

I lift her up and impale her on my shaft. Her quivering flesh encases me and drives me wild. I wedge her back against the door so that my hands are free to worship her beautiful body as I begin to plunge in and out of her.

“You are so beautiful,” I tell her, punctuating my words with my eager thrusts.

Of course she doesn’t understand anything I say to her, but still I want to tell her of her perfection.

“I love these little muscles you have been working so hard to build,” I tell her as I grasp her biceps and push them against the door.

She stares directly into my eyes and smiles at me, her legs gripping more firmly around my waist. I like to pretend that even if she can’t understand my words, the tenor of my voice is still a turn on. So I continue to list her charms.

“And your tawny mane reminds me of the golden Lona beast. You are so agile and fierce.”

I drop my mouth down to suckle at her breast. She moans in pleasure. I suck even harder and then switch to the other side.

“Today I will place my baby inside of you,” I promise, as I pump deeply inside of her.

“MMMM HMM,” TSSS responds, she rocks her pelvis, as though she can understand my words and can’t wait to receive my seed.

“You are mine. My mate!” I chant emphasizing each word with the movement of my hips.

TSSS gasps. “SOOW CLOWS.”

“I will fill you with my seed!” I promise as I feel the tension in both of our bodies building with a pressure which has to be released. I time my words with the thrusts of my body inside of her. “Soon you will grow thick with our child, my TSSS,” I promise solemnly.

I reach my hands down to her perfect breasts and rub the delicate pink tips between my fingers.

“These will swell as they fill with milk to nourish our babe,” I promise her.

“NEEED NOWWW,” she orders wildly.

“You are right, my mate. I know you are eager to have my child, so I will give her to you now.” I pick up the pace. I’m not holding anything back now.

“BOCC-D’AR!” she screams my name as another orgasm rips through her. My hot, potent seed erupts deep inside her womb. It’s my duty to provide an heir for my people, and I take my responsibilities very seriously. TSSS will be the best of mothers, I just know it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tessa

It’s been a couple of weeks since Bocc-d’ar discovered me working in the tower with De-Var. He appears to be quite pleased that I’ve become the old dude’s assistant writer, or whatever the word is for what I’m doing. My alien boy toy and I have developed a new routine.

Now we have breakfast together each morning, which has drastically increased the amount of time I get to spend with him each day. After that he goes off to do whatever it is that he does, and I go to the copy room, as I’ve dubbed it. I’d love to know exactly what he does all day, but we still haven’t overcome our language barrier.

I’m positive that I’m making progress though, at least with the written form. I understand now that it is a tonal language, because De-Var has repeated the words as he pointed at variations that look almost the same. He has been emphatic that markings above and below the letters or when the letters are placed higher or lower than others can totally change the way the word is pronounced, and also the meaning of the word.

My days are full of learning and my evenings are brimming with passion. Each night Bocc-d’ar climbs the tower to collect me when it’s time for dinner. I think he does this because he’s afraid I wouldn’t stop working otherwise. He might be right, it’s like I’m addicted to drawing. Back on earth I’d always had to focus on getting a real job and making money. But all my needs are being met, and I have to admit, it’s wonderful spending all day reading and painting, even if I only understand a handful of the words now.

De-Var doesn’t follow regular hours. As often as not he avoids the dining hall in the evenings when all of the other men gather for a feast. But someone always makes sure to send a tray up to him at mealtimes so that he doesn’t forget to eat. We typically have lunch together, moving away from our desks to eat at a small table by the fire. He’s like the grandfather I never had on earth.

I’ve even noticed that Bocc-d’ar’s men regard me with more respect now. My apprenticeship seems to have elevated my status to something beyond simply being Bocc-d’ar’s sex toy. Although I must admit, there’s still a bunch of sex transpiring in that massive bed, and on the floor, and anywhere we can find two seconds alone.

Bocc-d’ar is insatiable, and to be honest I’m not much better. I had no idea it was possible to get it on this much. If human women knew about the amped up libidos of these sexy aliens, I have a feeling they’d be swarming NASA and demanding to be launched into space. I’ve decided to stop feeling guilty about having relations with my captor. There’s no way I can survive another escape attempt on this dangerous planet, so I might as well enjoy the fringe benefits of my situation.

I quit my daydreaming and get back to savoring my breakfast. Bocc-d’ar passes me a bowl filled with some blue ball things. I haven’t seen these before and look at him questioningly. He smiles, and takes two out and raps them together gently. I watch with interest as cracks appear and he begins to peel the blue shells off.

“Hard boiled eggs?” I ask with delight, as I gaze at the blue globe he holds delicately between his fingers.

He bites it in half, then holds it out to reveal a pink center. I open my lips hungrily as he pops the other half in my mouth.

“Oh wow!” I exclaim. The color is different, but this is definitely an egg, hard boiled to perfection. I haven’t had one of these since the Krinar took over Earth and made all animal products so stinking expensive that hardly anyone, and definitely not a poor college student, could afford to buy them.

After we’ve finished our feast of hard boiled eggs and freshly baked bread, he heads out the front door and I make my way to the tower room. Since I now have a job, albeit an unpaid one, I’ve never gotten back to my castle exploring. But I know this route quite well. I pass through the library and open the hidden door to the secret stairs.

Everything in those manuscripts upstairs at the top of the tower would be classified as top secret by Earth’s standards. The hidden door makes a lot more sense now. Thank goodness I’m so persistent or I never would have found it!

I make the steep climb up, but when I open the door to the copy room I’m surprised to see that the monk isn’t there. That’s weird. He’s always here. In fact I’ve begun to think he sleeps in the tower. I glance at his table and note that he’s finished the page he’s been working on for some time.

Wow. Just, wow. It is absolutely stunning. The detail and colors are of a depth that I’d never known was possible before I saw how the metal magically mixed itself on his brush. I can’t wait to learn that little trick. He must have stayed up all night to finish this. I wander around the room, but I don’t pick up any of the manuscripts because I’m uncertain which I can and which I cannot touch.

I sit down at my desk, but I have nothing to work on because I finished my latest project last night. I see that he has placed it on the drying rack, and there are no corrections, which fills me with a sense of pride. I get up and wander around the room again, but eventually I grow tired of waiting for him. I decide to leave because he’s probably sleeping since he stayed up all night working.

This will be a good opportunity to get back to my exploration of the castle. I descend the steep stairs, then turn left out of the library because I haven’t discovered what is in that direction yet. I follow the hallway for quite a while, and don’t take any detours left or right. I want to see just how far this goes. Eventually it ends, and there is no other way to go, but down. These stairs appear to be carved from stone. They are coarse, and hold none of the beauty evident elsewhere in the castle.

The air becomes damp and musty as I descend. There is no natural light, so I’m glad for the magical torches. I’d be done exploring if it weren’t for the sconces. I take one from its holder to better light my path. I feel like I’m in an underground cave.

I finally reach the bottom of the stairs and stop to decide which path to take. It’s really creepy down here. I realize that this probably isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. No one knows I’m down here. What if I get lost? Or hurt?

The basement level is definitely hewn from a natural cavern, which I know would make it notoriously easy to become lost in. I consider turning around and heading back up the stairs. This would be the safest thing to do.

But I never claimed to be smart, unless we’re talking street smarts. In the end curiosity gets the best of me and I keep on with my search. I hold my torch up high, and it only illuminates a short distance in front of me. I tell myself that I’ll be very careful. I’ve already come this far, and I don’t want to go back yet.

There’s no way to gauge time down here, but I think it’s been a good fifteen minutes since I reached the bottom of the stairs. I look at the natural formations, which are similar to what I’ve seen on caves back on earth. It’s looks like they’ve carved out this section to make a main pathway.

I don’t deviate from the wide path, even though there are a number of tunnels branching off to the sides that I long to explore. The tunnel shows no signs of ending, and I’m just about to turn around and go back when I hear something up ahead. It almost sounds like someone is talking.

Is someone down here? I walk as silently as I can, because I have no idea what I’m hearing. As I get closer the path narrows and is only an arm-span across. That’s when I see that there’s something very different about this section of the cave. Iron bars have been installed along both sides.

Suddenly I’m starting to think that this is a prison. Of course this castle has always had a medieval vibe, so it would stand to reason that there would be a dungeon. And what better place to keep your enemies than inside the belly of the earth. I shudder, wondering if he’s ever considered locking me away down here. He wouldn’t, would he?

I gasp as I come face to face with the source of the noise. A strange looking alien is imprisoned behind the bars of one of the cells. He stands as I walk by and clutches the bars, as much surprised to see me as I him. He looks nothing like Bocc-d’ar’s race. His body may have a humanoid form with two arms and two legs, but that’s where the similarities between their species and ours end.

He reminds of a creepy, oversized insect. He has large compound eyes, like that of a fly. His skin, for lack of a better word reminds me of a tar pit with ripples marring the surface. I wonder if my hands would come away sticky if I touched him, but I have no desire to actually find out.

The alien is wearing a futuristic gray spacesuit, and I can easily imagine his species designing spaceships and advanced technology. Did Bocc-d’ar’s people take over his planet, or was it the other way around? Something tells me that both sets of aliens were never meant to cohabitate. He’s creeping me out, so I speak to break the silence even though I know he won’t be able to understand me.

“Well, you scared the crap out of me,” I say, clutching a hand to my heart. I don’t know if it’s him, or the place, but suddenly I’m regretting my impulsive decision to come down here. I know he’s behind the bars and can’t get to me, but he must have done something really, really bad to deserve this kind of punishment. I’m probably being prejudiced, but he’s so ugly I can’t help myself. I’m so glad that Bocc-d’ar doesn’t look like this underneath his metal form!

“GREEET YOOO TOOO,” the alien says with a creepy smile that does not reach his eyes.

That’s when I notice that his mouth is full of wicked teeth like a piranha. I take another step back. Maybe I should just run away now while I still can. But it’s been so long since I had a conversation with someone who could understand.

“What the hell. Did you just talk?” I gasp and turn back to face him.

“TALK ISSS YESSS,” he lisps.

“I can understand you.”

At this point I don’t know if I’m talking for his benefit or my own. My world is spiraling out of control. He is one freaky looking dude, and the phrases he uses are weirdly off, but he’s definitely speaking English. I try to push down my uneasiness about him, but fail.

“Uh, sorry you’re locked up down here, but I’ve gotta go,” I say as I turn around again. I may be intrigued, but my spidey senses are tingling. I intend to book it full speed back to the nice part of the castle, and never return to the scary old dungeon again.

“ESSS . . . CAPE?” he asks.

“What did you say?”

He pauses as if thinking of another way to express himself.

“ESSS . . . CAPE . . . YOOO?” he repeats hopefully.

“You want me to help you get out of here? No way. I can’t help you there. I’m a prisoner too, although I get to share a nice room with Bocc-d’ar instead of staying down here in the cold scary dungeon. But regardless, I can’t help you. I tried once to escape and almost died. This planet is just too dangerous.”

“HELPPP I WILLL,” he says with that oily smile he uses to punctuate each word.

“What? I’ve gotta go,” I blurt out, spinning around. I’m flat out running by this point, eager to get out of the dungeon and as far away from the bug-eyed alien as possible.

“HELPPP . . . DAN . . .GER . . . YOOO,” he calls after me.

I feel like someone just dumped ice water down the back of my shirt. Is he trying to tell me that I’m in danger? Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Like I have to self-sabotage any happiness I’m experiencing. Why couldn’t I leave well enough alone? Why did I have to go and put my nose where it didn’t belong?

***

I tried to stay away from the prisoner down in the dungeon, but his last words kept repeating in my head. I knew I’d go mad if I didn’t go back, if I didn’t return and ask him what danger he thought I was in. What was supposed to be just one more trip back to the dungeon for answers quickly morphed into a daily habit.

I didn’t realize how starved for conversation I’d become. The more time I spent with the prisoner, the better communication became. His name is Endingo, and he explained that he has a computer chip in his brain which allows him to learn languages easily. This makes me realize his people are more technologically advanced, like the Krinar. My friends have similar types of devices.

As a direct result of spending so much time in the dungeon, I’ve been spending less and less time up in the tower as De-Var’s apprentice. The lure of someone to talk to has proven to be irresistible to me. I do go to the tower in the late afternoon and work for a bit so that I’m there when Bocc-d’ar comes to get me for dinner. Part of me feels guilty for my deception, but I can’t seem to make myself stop.

In the mornings after breakfast I bring food to the dungeon for the prisoner because he’s so thin I fear they’re starving him. At first I was afraid of him, but now I feel ashamed that I felt that way. I hate to admit I was so shallow, but I think I judged him on his looks.

The things Endingo has told me are making me question the trust I placed in the trident man. Endingo isn’t strong and handsome like Bocc-d’ar but it appears that he, like me, was imprisoned here through no fault of his own. Every day he’s told me a little more of his story and slowly gained my trust. In return, I’ve told him of my life on Earth.

He was so sympathetic when I told him about my childhood. Even though he didn’t understand what the foster system is, he confided that he also experienced the pain of growing up alone because Bocc-d’ar’s people killed his parents. How can I possibly have feelings for an alien? I feel guilty over how much I look forward to seeing Bocc-d’ar every evening. I wish there were someone else I could talk to, but no one else understands me.

I’m so confused. And the captive in the dungeon is the only one talking to me. Endingo’s people are called the Hock-ver, and Bocc-d’ar’s people are called the Ro-heem. They have been at war with each other for some time. Bocc-d’ar, he said, is one of the rulers of the five Ro-heem kingdoms. According to Endingo, he inherited the title from his father, not through any particular merit of his own. This doesn’t seem quite right, because from what I’ve seen Bocc-d’ar’s men respect him, but I’ve been wrong before.

Endingo’s people have tried to make peace many times, but the Ro-heem are never interested. In fact that is why he is a prisoner here. Endingo came alone to negotiate peace regarding a land dispute, but was imprisoned for his efforts. He said the Hock-ver and Ro-heem have always been at war over the ownership of various parcels of land on this planet, which is called Meturgia.

Endingo was very interested in my life before I came here, so I told him of my friend Sarah and how we came to be on the planet Sagren. He was most intrigued to learn more of the Krinar, and each time I visit he always has more questions to ask about them. I don’t really care much what we talk about, just having conversations again is simply amazing. My step is light as I descend the familiar rough stone path to his cell.

“BEEE . . . YOOO . . . TIFUL GOOOD MORNINGSSS, TESSSSA,” he says when I appear.

“Good morning, Endingo. I have a special treat for you.” I pass a delicious goodie through the bars of his cell. I don’t remember what Bocc-d’ar called it, but it’s basically a sweet roll.

“THANKSSS TOOO YOOO,” he replies graciously.

“Your English has gotten so much better since we first met,” I praise him.

“YESSS. THE LISSS . . . ENING OF YOUR WORDSSS . . . IT HELPSSS MUCH. “

“I’m glad to help.”

“QUESTIONSSS I HAVE OF THE EARTHHH PLANET.”

“Yes, what would you like to know?”

“WHY DID EARTHLINGSSS NOT . . . FIGHT? YESSS THAT ISSS WORD . . . FIGHT . . . THE INVADERSSS, THE KRINAR?”

“Well, when the Krinar came they were so much more technologically advanced than we were on Earth. It would have been useless to fight them. It saved many lives to not fight a battle we could not win.”

“AHHH. YOOO SSSURENDER?”

“Yes.”

“NOOO FIGHT?”

“Yes, that’s right. No fight.”

“INTERESSSTING.”

“I guess so,” I say.

“AND THISSS OTHER PLANET . . . SSSA-GRIND?”

“Sagren,” I correct him automatically.

“NONE LIVESSS THERE?”

“That’s right. The Krinar were studying it for expansion. So far it appears to be safe for habitation.”

“ARE THERE SSSOLDIERSSS THERE FOR TO GUARD PLANET?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

“Uh, no. I don’t think there’s anyone there right now, except maybe those from the science team who were left when we were captured. They might still be there.”

“THE RO-HEEM MAKE YOU PRISSSONER LIKE ME,” he states sadly.

“Yes, they did. But unlike you, I’ve been treated well.” I feel almost guilty at the freedoms I’ve been given compared to my fellow prisoner.

“FOR NOW. UNTIL HE KILLSSS YOOO.”

“What? No. Bocc-d’ar’s not like that. He’s been really nice to me. He actually risked his life to save me when I tried to escape in the woods. Without him those Sprek beasts would have killed me.”

“WITHOUT HIM . . . YOOO NOT HEEREW,” Endingo says bluntly.

“Well, I guess that’s true. But it could be worse.”

“WORSSSE. YESSS. YOOO WILL BEEE. DEAD YOOO, LIKE OTHER FEMALESSS.”

“What do you mean?” Apprehension makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. “Do you know what happened to the other women? I’ve wondered why there are only men on this planet.”

“EVERY METAL CHILD . . . IT BRINGSSS DEATH TO MOTHER.”

My head is spinning, trying to understand if he’s saying what I think he is. “Do you mean that when a woman gives birth to a baby, she could die if the father was a metal man?”

“YESSS,” his response is instant. “NOT COULD. ALWAYSSS. MOTHERSSS DIE ALWAYSSS.”

I grab the bars with my hands, swaying sharply as I fear I’m going to pass out. This explains why there are no women in the castle. Like a punch in the gut I realize I could already be pregnant. No wonder Bocc-d’ar wants to have sex constantly.

I thought he cared about me, but Endingo has opened my eyes. All Bocc-d’ar wants is a child to carry on his terrifying legacy. I’m expendable. They probably think of women as flesh and blood incubators. Their sole purpose is to carry a baby to term. They probably don’t even care that the birth of the metal head monster will kill the unwilling mother.

When was my last period? When I realize that I haven’t had one since he first kidnapped me, I blanch. I’m going to die. I’m pregnant and I’m going to be ripped apart just like in the Aliens franchise.

Endingo is talking, but there is such a roaring in my head that I haven’t been listening.

“What did you say?” I ask, straining to focus.

“HISSS CHILD . . . IT INSSSIDE YOOO?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. Shit! Probably.” I don’t even try to tell him that this is inappropriate conversation. We’ve gone way past propriety by this point.

“NOW. WE GOESSS NOW,” he barks emphatically.

“What? We can’t go anywhere. You’re locked up. And I already told you the forest is unsafe. I tried to escape once and almost died.”

“I KNOW WAY. . . ESSS . . . CAPE. SSSAVE YOOO FROM MONSTER INSSSIDE YOOO. KNOW WAY GET RID OFFF.”

I clutch a hand to my belly. Can this be real? Am I pregnant? I know the answer to my unspoken question is most likely yes. Could I kill my own baby to save myself? I’ve never thought abortion was a solution to anyone’s problems. But I never thought I’d be abducted by aliens either.

“IT MONSSS . . .TER,” he says as if he can read my mind. “NOT BABY. WILL KILL. BAD LIKE FATHHHER.”

“But . . .” I start to argue, but I don’t have a clue what to say. It’s too much information to take in all at once.

“YOO AND ME, ESSS . . . CAPE. MY PEEPLE REMOVE MONSSSTER INSSSIDE YOO. YOO NOT DIE. LIVE.”

“You can do that?” I ask, half in horror that I’m considering it, and half in relief that it is even possible.

“YESSS. MUCH KNOWLEDGE MY PEOPLE HAVE. AND WE HELP RESSSCUE OTHERSSS . . . THE KRINAR. YOOO WISSSH RETURN EARTH?”

“You could take me and my friends back to Earth?”

“YESSS! EARTH!” he repeats excitedly.

“But, you’re locked up. How do I break you out?”

“KEY.”

He points to the right of his cage. I walk in that direction, and sure enough there is a large key hanging on a hook. How have I failed to notice this before now? It was in plain sight! I return to unlock the door, and just like that he steps out into the hall. He grabs my hand, turning in the opposite direction of how I usually come in.

“But don’t we need to go the other way to get out?” I ask.

“NOOO. COME. TRAVEL UNDER WALL WE DO,” he explains.

As he tugs me down the tunnel I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I’m fleeing the castle without any advanced warning or planning. Should I have gathered provisions first? It’s not like I can just ask Bocc-d’ar to tell me the truth!

On the off chance that I’m somehow not already pregnant, I need to get out now. I don’t want to risk sex with Bocc-d’ar even one more time. I never wanted to have kids. I’m not qualified to handle any of this emotionally.

But it would be selfish of me to ignore the chance to help my friends. Endingo says he can help us all and take us back to Earth. I try to stay strong for the others’ sake, but I feel far from courageous.

I move in a daze, following Endingo who seems to know exactly where to go. I should be comforted by his calm, but I’m to freaked out. What if he’s not really able to protect me? I’m too young for this shit.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Preen

The pounding on my door alerts me to the fact that Dorn is back again. Ever since he found out I’m carrying his baby he’s been maintaining an almost constant vigil outside my door. He thinks that since he’s the head of security he can push me around and bully me into talking with him. But I’m a kick-ass bodyguard, not some weak human he can manhandle.

He’s always been abrasive and gruff, but this is a whole new level. When will he get a clue? I still can’t remember why I ever slept with him. I never would have let him touch me if I’d suspected I might get pregnant.

I normally have nerves of steel, but each blow on the door to my quarters makes me flinch. I’d escape him if I could, but we’re all trapped on this spaceship together until we reach the mother planet. I’m not ready to be a mother. I’m too young. And I certainly don’t want to raise a child with someone like Dorn.

“Open the door, Preen,” Dorn yells at the top of his lungs, loud enough for everyone on board to hear.

I ignore him, being as quiet as I can. Hopefully he’ll think I’m not here and give up.

“I know you are in there!”

So much for pretending I’m not in. “Go away, Dorn,” I holler through the closed door.

“You can’t keep avoiding me.”

“Oh, yeah? Watch me.”

“Open the damn door, Preen!” He punctuates each word with his fists beating a staccato rhythm on the door. His crazy is just adding fuel to the fire of my already insane mood. “You owe me that much at least!”

“I owe you nothing. The fact that I let you park your dick in my vagina a few times doesn’t give you any rights. So fuck off, Dorn!”

The irony of my somewhat lame comeback hurts, because said vagina has totally betrayed me. Why didn’t I sleep with Zalken instead? Or better yet, I should have just kept my legs shut and then I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

The relentless pounding continues on the door. It’s driving me out of my ever loving mind. Why, oh why did I ever sleep with that man? Who cares if the sex was the best I’ve ever had? There aren’t enough orgasms in the world to make up for the complication that this pregnancy has wrought on my once simple life.

Sex with Dorn got me in this impossible situation, but sex won’t get me out of it. Since sex is all I ever wanted from him, I have no further use for him in my life. I’ve made it clear that I want nothing to do with him, so why won’t he just go away? This baby is enough drama all on its own. I certainly don’t need the sperm donor in the mix.

“It’s my child too, Preen! You can’t leave me out of this!” he shouts again. Then he body slams the door, to make sure I haven’t forgotten he’s out there, I guess. As if I could!

I’m a movie junkie, so of course my mind inserts a picture of Dorn pregnant with his own child like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Junior. It’s too bad Dorn isn’t the one who got knocked up. Then I could just walk away, and he’d have the baby. If only life were so simple. A pesky voice in my subconscious tells me that I’m lying to myself, that I’d never really be able to walk away from my child. But I’m not in the mood to listen to crazy talk.

Once again I consider giving the baby away to an infertile Krinar couple. Pregnancy is so rare for my people. There are so many Krinar who would want this child. What happened on Sagren was such a fluke. What if this is my only shot at having a child? Can I really give my baby away just because the timing sucks?

It’s impossible to get any privacy on this ship. How can I think when he’s constantly hounding me and wanting to bully me into a decision I’m not ready to make. Part of me wishes that we would hurry up and get to Krina, but another part of me wishes I could delay the arrival forever. I’m not ready to face the elders . . . or worse . . . my parents. I left on a science mission, but instead of bringing back rock samples I got knocked up!

The commotion has picked up in the hallway. Lover Boy isn’t alone out there anymore. If I’m not mistaken that last blow I heard wasn’t on the door, but connected with someone’s face. I risk a peek out the privacy hole and I see Zalken trying to restrain Dorn. He’s not having much luck because Dorn is much stronger than he is.

Zalken is joined by Rune and Aptar, and the three of them manage to subdue my crazy baby daddy. Dorn’s cursing gradually fades as they carry him kicking and screaming down the hall. Finally. Now that I’m alone maybe I can think.

I have to come to a decision soon, before we reach Krina. Too bad I have no idea what I want. I’m too young to be a mother, but there’s no denying the fact that this child is mine. I press a hand to my stomach and think about the baby growing inside of me. I’ve never felt so woefully inadequate in my entire life.

Bocc-d’ar

Chaos fills the castle. It was reported to me at mid-day that the prisoner, Endingo, somehow escaped his cell in the dungeon. This was discovered when the cook’s assistant went down to take him his meal. I was alerted immediately, and we launched a thorough search of the castle and the caverns.

So far no one has seen him, or uncovered any clues as to how he managed to get out of his cell. The cook’s assistant adamantly insists he put the key back on the hook after he delivered yesterday’s meal. There is no way that key could be reached from the cell. None of this makes any sense.

It is close to the dinner hour, and I decide to go retrieve TSSS so that she doesn’t work through mealtime. I tell my men they can eat in shifts, but to continue the search for Endingo. By this point I don’t hold much hope he will be recovered. I still don’t know how he did it, but he is obviously long gone. I’m sure he has slunk back to his people, the Hock-ver.

I climb the stairs to the tower, my loins quickening in anticipation of seeing her. I cannot seem to get enough of my beautiful mate. Even though I’ve been busy with the search for the escaped prisoner, it has calmed my mind to know she is safe behind the hidden door with De-Var. When I reach the top I open the door but am surprised when I don’t see my TSSS inside.

“Good evening, Bocc-d’ar,” De-Var greets me, lifting his eyes briefly from his work, before continuing to apply ink to paper.

“Good evening, De-Var. I’ve come for TSSS. Where is she?”

“She has not come this day,” De-Var says without taking his hand from the page.

“What?” I rage, instantly upset.

De-Var reluctantly sets his pen down and meets my murderous gaze.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“I have no idea where she is. I have not seen her much lately. She started out as a very good apprentice, but seems to have lost interest. She has come less and less. Each day she comes later and later. Then today she did not come at all.”

“But if she has not been spending her days here, where has she been?”

“I certainly have no idea. I was not aware I had been awarded the job of nurse-maid,” De-Var mutters testily.

“De-Var, listen to me.”

The monk once again sets his pen down, sensing the urgency in my voice.

“Endingo has escaped the dungeons. We’ve been searching for him for hours, and have no idea how he managed to get out of the cell.”

“This can’t be a coincidence,” De-Var says, wiping his hands on a rag, and standing. “I’ll come with you. You’ll need to arm for battle.”

My blood chills as our eyes meet, both of us instantly realizing what has happened.

“Yes. Come. I need your mastery of the metallurgical to prepare for battle as quickly as possible.”

It all makes sense now. Endingo has my mate. She must have discovered the dungeons while wandering around the castle. The Hock-ver have their mysterious mind translators, so with the ability to talk to her, he has likely used his lying tongue to convince her to free him. I should have never left the dungeons unguarded. I’m a fool.

“I’m going through the cavern to wake the Dar-fnar. Sa-br’wren is out front directing the search. Tell him what has happened and get Kay. He is to assemble all of the men in the clearing with weapons and in battle form. I will come there with the dragons so that we can prepare our war-craft. I want to be ready to mount the attack within the hour.”

My worst enemy has taken my mate, and he has had hours for a head start. We have already lost so much time! I will do whatever must be done, but inside I’m panicking. She is my everything, and I have lost her again.

We split up at the bottom of the tower, and I shift into battle form as I descend the stone stairs to the dungeon. I reach out with my mind to alert the Dar-fnar that I am coming, and tell them what has happened. Their leader and my friend, the huge red dragon called Sca ’hlet, meets me before I even reach their lair.

The tendrils of smoke wafting from her nostrils show that she is every bit as ready for battle as I am. The Hock-Ver are sworn enemies of both the Dar-fnar, and the Ro-heem. The Hock-Ver have hunted and stolen the eggs of the Dar-fnar young. None of us know for sure their purpose, but we speculate they are trying to hatch dragons of their own to use in battle. But what they don’t know is that the eggs will not hatch without the blazing heat of their parent’s fire during the incubation period.

The numbers of the Dar-fnar have been drastically reduced because of this crime, though not as badly as that of us Ro-heem. The fate of the young that have been stolen from them is unknown. If Endingo’s people have kept them in their fortress, they might still be able to be hatched in the future if they are retrieved, but we fear they’ve destroyed the eggs.

The reason Endingo was imprisoned in my dungeon was that he was caught trying to steal yet another Dar-fnar egg. He almost succeeded, but was discovered by the night watch before he could get away. We considered executing him, but decided to keep him alive in hopes of learning more about the fate of the stolen dragon eggs. If any remain, we assume they are being kept inside the Hock-Ver fortress.

The Dar-fnar and I travel quickly through the caverns to the exit nearest the clearing. Most of the adults are coming with me to battle, but Sca ’hlet is leaving a few Dar-fnar here to protect their young. I agree with this strategy, and I will also leave some men on the wall to guard the castle.

I try to remain focused, but my mind drifts to TSSS. If my enemy has harmed so much as a hair on her head, not one of his people will be left breathing. There will be no mercy. I know Sca ’hlet feels the same way. She has an old score to settle with the Hock-Ver. We communicate telepathically as we hurry to the clearing.

“My mate,” I say, seething with barely restrained rage.

“My children,” she howls with murderous intent in her mind.

Sca ’hlet communicates wordlessly that she will help me rescue my mate, but she also intends to use her senses to search for any of the missing eggs while we are at the enemy camp. If there are live eggs still there, she will find them.

“Together, we will prevail,” I promise my friend.

We enter the clearing, and I am relieved that Sa-br’wren has assembled everyone. Kay, my war chief, has all of the men ready, in battle form. They are armed to the teeth. I see many new and creative weapons melded to their bodies.

De-Var has used the time to draw creation symbols with the Roktar Ore paint that can only be made using the instructions in the hidden manuscripts. He has drawn one large circle, and multiple X-shaped markings on the ground. Each of these drawings will become an air-ship.

“Which one first?” I ask De-Var.

“We will do a transport ship first, large enough to hold all our men,” he says. “Then we will make the small fighter ships.

We step around the circle, each taking our designated place according to the diagram that De-Var has drawn. Sca ’hlet and I stand exactly opposite of each other across the circle. The sun reflects off the ruby scales of her armor, causing prisms of light to flicker. The Dar-fnar and Ro-heem have been connected in this way for millennia.

We share a power that can not be wielded without the help of the other. The ruby, emerald, amber, and sapphire Dar-fnar are alternated with the designated Ro-heem: myself, Kay, De-Var and Sa-br’wren.

I lift my arms and point them toward the center of the circle. I connect with that other part of myself and summon the Roktar Ore. I feel the enormous mass of metal deep in the earth, thousands of feet under me. This mountain is full of Roktar Ore. At first it feels stuck, but with a visceral tug I pull harder, setting it free from the rock, hidden deep below the surface.

Like a geyser it pours through my fingers. Right on my heels it erupts from Kay, De-Var, and Sa-br’wren’s hands as well. With a roar, Sca ’hlet opens her mouth. A stream of fire blasts toward the center of the circle, quickly followed by fire from the other three Dar-fnar. The large transport ship quickly begins to take form. I visualize the shape and details of it, for I am the one leading the circle.

As heir to this kingdom I was born to do this. I have been tutored in our secret metallurgical arts since infancy. Minutes later the ship is complete, and we move on to form the X-shaped fighter ships. They have unbelievable maneuverability and each is mounted with fire weapons. But I will ride Sca ’hlet. There’s nothing we can’t accomplish with our minds melded as one.

After we finish, the dragons lumber over to the large pile of obsidian which is purposely kept here in the field. They eat obsidian in order to replenish their ability to make fire, since their internal stores were depleted while forging the ships. Kay, De-Var, Sa-br’wren and I drink deeply from the water flasks handed to us.

This liquid is drawn from our wells deep beneath the mountain, and is saturated with Roktar. With our ships completed and our metal stores replenished, we are ready for battle. Endingo’s trail may have grown cold, but it matters not. Where else would he go but home? His land borders my own, and unlike him we won’t be on foot.

I know backup is on the way because I have communicated with the other rulers. This will be a united battle of the five kingdoms, but I dare not wait for them to arrive. The Ro-heem and Dar-fnar from each kingdom will meet on the battlefield to annihilate our common enemy. The superior technology of the Hock-ver will not best us again. Today the slayers of our women die. Vengeance will be ours, and I will hold my TSSS in my arms again.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tessa

The caverns are cold and damp. I would be hopelessly lost if it were not for Endingo. I am relieved that he seems to know exactly where he is going. I follow closely on his heels, terrified of being left behind, alone in the dark.

We each have torches but they only illuminate a small distance around us. After what seems like forever, I see sunlight from an opening above us. I’m thrilled about getting out of the scary dark cavern, but it’s not like Disneyland is waiting for me on the other end.

I don’t want to get eaten by some awful monster. But I’ve come this far and, unless I want to die a gruesome death, Endingo is my only hope. He sets his torch down and begins to climb the large rocks to the surface.

“COME,” he says, turning back to wave anxiously at me.

I place my feet in the same footholds that he has used. It is an arduous ascent, and once again I’m grateful about all the effort I’ve put into getting in shape since leaving Earth. Once Endingo has climbed out of the cave he reaches back inside to help pull me the rest of the way out. I recognize immediately that we are in the scary forest where I almost died the last time.

“That thing is deadly,” I say, spotting one of the carnivorous plants close to me. “I found out the hard way that some of the plants will try to eat you.”

“FOLLOW ME. KNOW I WHAT ISSS SSSAFE AND WHAT ISSS NOT.”

“Thank goodness,” I mutter, as I follow him.

I’m exhausted, and my nerves are frayed from being careful not to brush up against all of the dangerous plants he points out. There are so many of them, I can’t possibly remember what’s what. The route he’s taking is on a high ridge that runs parallel with the river. I watch my step so that I do not get too close to the edge.

The last thing I want to do is slip and fall off the side. Part of me wonders if my recent ally would go to great lengths to rescue me were something bad to happen. I decide that it’s better if I don’t test him. I’m deep in thought when his voice interrupts me.

“DOWN HERE.”

When he starts descending the steep embankment I have no choice but to follow him. It’s scary, but there are rocks to use as footholds. He holds onto vines and small trees as he makes his way down. I do the same, just hoping that they are not only strong enough to support our weight, but that they aren’t the kind of plants that bite back.

When we reach the bottom he makes his way over to a huge, flat-topped boulder that juts out over the river and sits down. I plop down beside him with a weary sigh. I could so take a nap right now. I’m worried because I heard somewhere that fatigue is a sign of early pregnancy.

“WAIT NOW,” he says.

“Oh, are we resting?”

“YESSS. RESSST HERE.”

“Do you have a canoe or something?” I ask hopefully.

“NO. RESSST, ” he repeats a bit impatiently, then turns his back to me. He seems to be in a mood about something, not nearly as friendly as he usually is. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk. Maybe he’s having second thoughts about bringing me along. Or maybe I’m overthinking things, and he’s merely tired like me.

“I was wondering what the plan is,” I try again.

“SSSOOON GO. SSSTOP TALKING,” he says placing a hand to the side of his head as if he’s concentrating on something.

I try not to be offended, but I’m starting to have doubts about my impulsive decision. He’s not providing a lot of information. I imagine my absence has been noticed by now and I have a pang of guilt over how Bocc-d’ar will take the news. Stop it, I tell myself. He’s the one who got you into this mess. And Endingo is going to get you out of it, not Mr. Trident Man.

We sit there a few minutes and my stomach growls. I know we have no food, so I say nothing. I hear something off to the right and Endingo gets to his feet and looks in that direction. He must have heard it too. I stand, following his lead.

“What is it?” I ask, fearful that it may be the Sprek beasts. Just then a group of about a dozen aliens round the bend and come into clear view. They are his people I realize instantly because they look exactly alike, from the tarry skin and the bug eyes down to the futuristic gray uniforms. He must have communicated with them somehow to meet us here. But why wouldn’t he just tell me that?

They begin talking to him rapidly in their alien language. They point and gesture toward me as they do so. Then they all rush toward me, and their demeanor seems menacing. I wish Endingo would talk to me.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I back away from them, nervously. They form a half circle around me with the river to my back. I glance over my shoulder at the raging river below as they quickly close the distance. A feeling of déjà vu settles over me. Before I even have time to process what is happening, two of them grab my arms and pull me away from the bank.

“Let me go!” I scream, struggling and jerking against them. One of them holds my hands out in front of me and another takes a small device off his belt.

“HOLD SSSTIL. OR WE FREEZE MORE OF YOOO . . . LIKE YOUR MOUTH,” he threatens, pointing his alien weapon at my hands.

This is my first clue that they also speak English. I want to keep struggling but his words scare me, so I remain still as he aims the thing at my hands. I scream, thinking he’s going to shoot me, but instead of a bullet, a tendril of blue electricity bursts from the gun and hits my wrists.

When I try to pull them apart, I find that they are stuck together as if I have on hand cuffs. Snakey blue threads hold my arms together. It doesn’t really hurt, although it’s cool to the touch. I try to force my wrists apart, but this gives me a shock, which stings, reminding me of an electric dog fence.

“DOWN YOOO,” he orders.

I am pushed to the ground and held flat on my belly by a boot pressed into my back. I scream and kick until the gun traps my ankles. My captors roughly jerk me back up to my feet, and my legs are now hobbled together with strings of electricity. I can’t possibly run away now.

“Endingo!” Help!” I call out desperately. I take a small step toward him and it doesn’t hurt. I try a larger step, only to get zapped like a dog who’s trying to leave his yard.

Endingo looks down at me with a contemptuous look. “GAG HER. SSSICK TO DEATH I AM OF HER INCESSSANT WHINING,” he hisses, looking directly into my eyes.

I scream and then choke as a tendril of the blue electricity is shot directly into my wide open mouth. I feel choked as its force pushes my tongue back in my mouth, triggering my gag reflex. One of them grabs my arm and starts walking with long fast strides. I’m jerked forward and almost lose my balance.

I struggle to keep up with the pace they’ve set. I can barely stay on my feet with them hobbled together as they are, and when I try to lengthen my strides to keep up I get zapped. Fortunately, I don’t end up having to walk far. Just around the corner I see the vehicle they used to get here. I try to double my speed with tiny mincing steps in order to keep up.

If I could I would scream for Bocc-d’ar, but they’ve made that impossible. He’d never hear me all the way out here anyway. I wonder if he’s even noticed I’m gone yet? Despair chokes me even more effectively than the gag.

The alien vehicle kind of looks like a helicopter. I am tossed inside carelessly. I land hard on my side, my head hitting the floor with a violent thud. They climb in around me and take their seats. I hear the soft purr of the engine come to life and then the alien helicopter lifts into the air.

It is flying low, just above the trees. This is likely to keep from being spotted by Bocc-d’ar and his men. It is very quiet, which I guess is why I didn’t notice it when they arrived. They ignore me as they converse in their alien language.

My mind tries to process what has happened. My world comes crashing in as I realize what an enormous mistake I have made. My ally is in fact nothing more than a smooth tongued devil. Why, oh why did I not trust Bocc-d’ar? Language barrier be damned. He always treated me well. I should have known he wasn’t a bad guy.

I am such a moron to not have realized how good I had it with my sexy alien. My heart lurches in my chest when I realize how my betrayal will hurt him. I start crying when it dawns on me that I will probably never see his beautiful face again. I can’t believe how easily I was duped.

Why do I always screw everything up? I can’t accept it when something good actually comes my way. It’s like when I was a child and I got placed in a decent foster home. I’d always do something to sabotage it because I could never trust that it wouldn’t end anyway. It was how I stayed in control, but I’m certainly not in control of anything now.

I am filled with self-pity and remorse, and soon my tears are running down my cheeks. I try to get myself under control because if I start sobbing I could very well choke with my mouth gagged. Unbidden, Bocc-d’ar’s face comes to my mind. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am that I didn’t trust him. It hurts me to realize that I’ll never see him again.

“WHAT’SSS WRONG TESSSA?” Endingo taunts. “TAKE YOU NOT PLEASSSURE IN YOUR FREEDOM?”

I am lying at Endingo’s feet while he sits in the chair above me. My face is wet with tears, but of course I cannot say anything because of their strange technology that has gagged my tongue. I bet the bastard likes it that way, since he likened my talking to incessant whining.

“FREED YOU FROM YOUR BARBARIC CAPTOR HAVE I. ARE YOU NOT GRATEFUL?” He pauses, then continues. “SSSUCH A SSSTUPID CHILD. SSSO EASSSY TO MANIPULATE. A WORTHY OPPONENT YOOO ARE NOT. YET COMFORT I HAVE IN TAKING YOOO. SSSUBSSSTANTIAL BLOW HAVE I DEALT TO MY ENEMY. EXCITED WERE THEY ABOUT YOOO GIVING NEW HEIR. PATHETIC. ANYTHING COMING OUT OF YOOO MUSSST BE TRASSSH.”

I try unsuccessfully to block out his hateful words.

“LIE TO YOOO I DID. BOCC-D’ARSSS BABY NOT HURT YOOO . . . I HURT YOOO.”

Endingo’s says something in his own tongue to his comrades. Their vicious laughter fills the air. Then he switches back to English to continue tormenting me.

“PREGNANCY DID NOT KILL THEIR WOMEN. WE DID. SSSTOPPED THEM FROM BREEDING LIKE PIGSSS WE DID. WITHOUT WOMEN THEIR KIND DIE. BUT THEY ARE TAKING FOREVER. I WOULD BLASSST THEM OFF FACE OF PLANET, BUT ORDERED NOT TO. MUST FIRSSST DISSSCOVER HOW THEY MELD METAL TO THEIR BODIESSS.”

If I could speak I would scream at him to shut up. Every word he says is like a dagger plunged into my chest. He’s pure evil, and I let him go without question.

“THINK WE DO HASSS SSSOMETHING TO DO WITH DRAGONSSS, BUT UNABLE TO HATCH TO TESSST. SSSICK TO DEATH AM I OF THISSS PLANET. BUT ORDERSSS ARE ORDERSSS. DID NOT PLAN ON GETTING CAPTURED WHEN I TRIED TO TAKE YOOO. BUT ALL WORKED OUT IN THE END. CAN’T ALLOW YOOO TO GIVE THEM HEIRSSS.”

I am so stunned by his revelation that I can barely breathe. I released the very enemy that Bocc-d’ar locked away to protect me. Is there no end to my stupidity?

“WORRY NOT TESSSA. YOOO DIE NOT YET. PLANSSS FOR YOU I HAVE. AFTER WE CONQUER THISSS PLANET WE GO TO OTHER THREE PLANETSSS YOU TELL ME OF. TAKE THEM ALL WE WILL. SSSAGREN, KRINA, AND EARTH WILL BE OURSSS.”

I feel ill. What have I done? I’ve doomed three species and four planets! Endingo would not know of the other planets if I had not blabbed my big mouth to him. And now he will reveal all of this to the authorities on his home planet. I’m not a hero. I’m a monster, and a fool. Earth and Krina won’t know what hit them . . . and it’s all my fault.

***

As soon as I am led into the enemy’s fortress I see that it is quite different from Bocc-d’ar’s kingdom, which has always seemed like a medieval castle and village. It is also nothing like the city that I saw when I first arrived on Meturgia. Endingo’s people are technologically superior; too bad they’re morally defunct.

Massive guns that remind me of grenade launchers are mounted on the walls. A large spaceship and some more of the aircraft that we are riding in are parked just inside the walls. Many of the Hock-Ver stream outside to greet Endingo and the men with him.

I also see people of other races, but judging by their forlorn expressions I suspect they are all slaves. They walk with their heads low, and although their hands are free, on closer inspection I see that blue electricity forms a line between their legs. Am I looking at my future?

“WATCH CLOSSSELY TESSSA. LEARN YOOO MUST HOW SSSLAVESSS ACT FOR MASSSTERSSS. WE HAVE CONQUERED MANY PLANETSSS. EACH SSSPECIES HASSS INTERESSSTING QUALITIESSS. AND WE ALWAYSSS FIND USSSESSS FOR YOOO FEMALESSS.”

Something about that last statement makes my skin crawl. I really hope he isn’t inferring what I think he is, because I think I’d kill myself before I let one of those monsters touch me. My guilt weighs so heavily upon me that I wish he would just kill me and get it over with. He never stops talking, filling my ears with the numbers of his conquests. He tells me how they always run out of resources, and that they are always in need of new planets. He’s practically bursting with pride when he tells me how his rulers will reward him like a king for bringing them the news of three viable planets.

Left with no choice, I follow him inside a building. I see yet more examples of different species. They are all doing cleaning or some type of labor, and are kicked and shoved out of the way by my captors as we pass. So this is my future. If only I could go back in time and tell myself to stop being an idiot. I’d had everything, and I hadn’t appreciated it.

There are many screens on the walls, which appear to be monitors. Displayed on the screens I see views of different areas that I recognize. Some are of the grounds here, but other monitors show the area just outside Bocc-d’ar’s castle. I’m sure he has no idea that his enemy is watching his every move.

Endingo steps onto a circular platform and drags me up with him. His fingers fly over the console on a stand within the circle. An odd sensation comes over me, and I look down to see my body dissolving into a million particles. I scream as I feel myself drifting apart. Almost as soon as it starts I feel myself begin to solidify, only as my body is re-forming I realize I’m in a different place now.

I’m reminded of the “Beam me up Scotty” moments in all the Star Trek episodes I watched as a kid. Apparently that technology is real. I just got teleported!

Endingo steps off the new platform. “HURRY UP, TRASSSH,” he orders, jerking me down the hallway behind him. Two guards fall in place with us as we move. Then he pushes me into an unoccupied cubicle, with bars like a jail cell.

“SSSOOO HELPFUL YOOO HAVE BEEN . . .” Endingo taunts from the other side of the bars.

He takes the device from one of the guards’ belts, and uses it to release the bindings from my legs, arms, and tongue. I take a deep breath and rotate my wrists as they both step outside the door. The guard enters a series of keystrokes on the keypad on the wall, then the cell door closes, locking me inside. Sparks of electricity dance between the metal bars, prohibiting me from touching them.

I wonder if I’ll ever leave this cold, dark cell. I certainly don’t deserve to. I’ve just set in motion genocide on a level that would make Hitler jealous. I curl up in the corner of my cell and close my eyes. Misery washes over me, and I let it. I’m a monster.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Bocc-d’ar

I ride on Sca ’hlet’s back, and Kay rides her mate, the emerald. Like all of my men, I’m in battle form. My most skilled flyers are inside the small fighter craft, and Sa-br’wren is manning the large warship we built to transport the rest of the men.

“Bocc-d’ar, we should wait for the other forces to arrive,” Kay cautions as we near the Hock-ver camp.

“Endingo has my mate and I will not wait,” I tell him.

“You don’t even know if she is here,” Kay warns.

“She is here. I can sense her. Deep within his camp. She is so frightened.”

“Brother, I vow we will do all we can to save her, and annihilate our enemy. But you must know we have a greater chance of success if we wait for the rulers from the other kingdoms to arrive. They will have already taken to the air, and will likely be here within minutes.”

“NIK! She is terrified. We go now. I will not risk her. If I wait they will kill her, just like they murdered our women. We do not have time to wait for the other armies to arrive.”

Kay nods his agreement, surrendering against his better judgement to my authority. Using battle chatter, he communicates his orders to Sa-br’wren on the big ship and the others in the small fighter crafts. At the same time I use my mind talk to communicate with Sca ’hlet. We are both filled with blood lust. My mate and the missing Dar-Fnar eggs will both be rescued today.

Sca ’hlet tells me that just as I can sense TSSS inside, she can feel the pull of their unhatched young behind enemy defenses. She communicates her orders telepathically with the other Dar-fnar. In one orchestrated movement we approach the wall from every direction. They must have been expecting us because their explosive throwing guns swivel into position and track our movements.

A couple small fighter crafts explode into a million pieces, and I see that the enemy guns have struck down at least two of my men. I feel a pang of sadness, but I form a metal cage around my emotions. I will allow myself to grieve later for my fallen men. Now I must focus.

Sa-br’wren approaches from above and hovers in the air over their encampment. We have formed special weaponry on the underside of the ship, and my men inside aim their weapons at the enemy troops on the ground. They need to clear the area under them of attackers who are shooting at them so they can land.

For now the hull of our ship is withstanding enemy fire. The bigger threat is the Hock-ver’s massive weapons mounted on the wall. At the right angle I fear they could pierce the hull and destroy the ship and all inside it. It pangs me to risk so many of my men for my mate. But without her and the children she will give me, my people will soon become extinct. And so, she is worth every casualty.

Larger weapons are tracking us as we circle above, but they could change their target to the big ship at any moment. It does not have good maneuverability because of its size. A massive round explodes from one of the guns, and it’s aimed directly at us.

Mercifully, we are not hit. Sca ’hlet is far more agile than our fighter jets. Failing to hit the Dar-fnar, the enemy begins to shift its attention to the small fighter crafts instead because they have a better chance of hitting them. We must create a distraction and buy the crafts time to land.

I communicate my plans with Sca ’hlet and she instantly agrees. Those fire weapons are our target. Sa-br’wren can’t land with the troops until we take them out. She communicates the plan with the other Dar-frnar. Most of them continue to circle around the perimeter, but Sca ’hlet and her mate, the huge emerald, shoot straight up, high into the air. I hold on tight, as does Kay on the emerald’s back.

I know our maneuvers have caught the attention of the enemy’s guns when they swivel back upward, tracking us again. Sca ’hlet performs an abrupt ninety degree turn, before diving straight down. At the last second she levels out and soars directly above the wall.

She opens her mouth and molten lava bellows out. I hold out my trident, which shoots liquid Roktar Ore. In mid air the elements combine and explode, cutting a destructive hole in the enemy forces below us.

I continue to direct the flow of the explosive liquid down on the wall, and everywhere our magic metals touch a path of fire follows. I glance to the side and see Kay and the emerald Dar-fnar doing the same thing on the wall opposite us. We both circle around spewing liquid fire and within minutes the entire wall is a jagged wreck, the once mighty weapons and any remainder of the men operating them are indiscernible from the carnage.

I circle the air on Sca ’hlet’s back, looking for any other weapons that might be trained on us. Sa-br’wren quickly lands the big ship on the ground. Meanwhile the Dar-fnar and fighter ships circle the air to protect them with our fire as the men evacuate the ship.

Vast numbers are pouring out of the Hock-ver’s buildings. I easily spot our enemies along the back, but in front of them is a group of beings that I do not recognize. They have no weapons, and they hold their hands in front of them as though they wish to surrender.

The pathetic creatures are being herded in front of the Hock-ver. That is when I realize that Endingo and his men are using them as a sort of shield. What I don’t understand is if they think to slow us down, of if they assume we will heartlessly cut our way through innocent creatures to get to them.

I use battle chatter to inform my men to not kill these pathetic hostages, not unless we are attacked by them first. I sense that they are not our enemy. I’m here for Endingo’s people. They are the ones who murdered our females. They are the ones who’ve taken my mate. As for the others, I will decide their fate another day, unless they force my hand.

Sca ’hlet and I fly past the distraction to the cowardly Hock-ver who are hiding behind these others. As we fly over them our enemy lifts their weapons and fires on us. These weapons are not as powerful as the larger guns on the wall, yet they are still quite dangerous. The Dar-frnar’s brilliant plating is beautiful, yet acts as a strong armor. I feel something hit my arm and look down to see that whatever they are shooting has grazed me.

Fortunately it has not penetrated to my flesh. I aim my trident at one of those weapons and shoot a stream of liquid metal at it. I smile as the weapon folds in half, but decide to not waste any more of my Roktar Ore when Sca ’hlet spews her molten death at the cowardly bunch of Hock-ver.

Her aim is lethal and incredibly accurate. The new creatures in the front are untouched, but behind them nothing remains of the cluster of Hockver but a pile of ash. The strange looking people in front raise their hands and scream toward the sky, but they make no effort to fight back. I feel I’ve made the correct decision, and that we have earned some new allies today.

As my men continue to file out of the massive ship, I wrestle with the decision of what to do next. We have secured the outer section. I know it would be safest to wait here for reinforcements to arrive. There may well be a trap waiting for me inside. But even knowing all of this I cannot keep myself from going in.

I must rescue my mate now, lest any harm befall her. Although I think they’re victims, I also don’t trust these unknown creatures at our back. So, I command my men to herd them back inside where they came from. They are docile and go willingly. I believe they understand that we are not trying to hurt them.

They have no weapons that I can see, and they have made no hostile moves. Their varied appearances tells me there are multiple species represented here. The strange creatures go back inside, and my men follow them with weapons raised.

Sca ’hlet and the emerald land, and Kay and I climb off their backs. They will stand guard by the ship, while the remaining Dar-fnar continue to circle the perimeter. They are much too large to fit inside and will be of the most assistance out here. I can communicate with Sca ’hlet where to send fire power at the building if needed.

I follow my men inside and my senses are assaulted by the oddness of this place. Flat squares with moving paintings line the walls, but I do not have time to analyze this strangeness because we are immediately engaged in combat. They have powerful weapons that we are not familiar with. Some use the fire-sticks, and I see that they can indeed pierce our armor.

“Strengthen your battle forms!” I order via battle chatter as I divert a portion of my energy to a stronger shielding. I wield my trident and am relieved to see that the molten metal from it incapacitates their weapons. I decide to ration my ore, and revert to using my trident to pierce the chest of one soldier, and then another.

They have other small, handheld weapons that I do not understand. They hold them out and threads of blue energy fly from the tips. When they shoot these at my men, they are suddenly unable to move and incapable of defending themselves. I do my best to stay clear of the blue fire boxes, and give orders to take out the Hock-ver who are welding them first.

I do not understand their language but it is clear that the ones in this room are screaming at their slaves. Yet the slaves stand still and do not move. I take this to mean that they are being ordered to fight, but refusing. Good. I wish to shed no blood but that of my enemy.

As the battle rages around me I send out my senses in search of TSSS. She is somewhere below me. I utilize a brief lull in the fighting to communicate with Sca ’hlet. Using our mind link she tells me that she can sense the eggs, and that they are also in the lowest level of this structure. I look around but do not see any stairs. How am I supposed to get down there?

Just then the most amazing thing happens. On a platform off to the right, I see a shimmering form that looks like a million disconnected specks. Then it solidifies and turns into a vile creature I would recognize anywhere: Endingo. At last that coward shows his face.

I do not know how he controls this magic, but I am not afraid of his strange tricks. I have powers of my own. He has taken my mate, and I will force him to take me to where she is being held. I hear the sound of thunder as reinforcements from the other kingdoms arrive, flooding the area with more of our people. Now we easily outnumber the Hock-ver.

“Kay, I’m going for my mate,” I say, gesturing with my trident at Endingo who stands on the platform. “You are in charge!”

“Be safe, you young pup,” Kay advises, as his long sword neatly slices off the head of the man he is fighting.

My eyes lock with Endingo’s across the room. “You are dead!” I roar, as I run toward him with my trident outstretched.

Endingo’s eyes sweep across the room and he instantly sees that his men are outnumbered, and losing the battle. There is fear in his eyes as I advance toward him. He hurriedly reaches to the small table on the platform, his fingers flying across the surface.

“No!” I scream, as his form begins to drift apart right before my eyes. The coward is running away! I leap onto the platform and am relieved to see that Sa-br’wren has also joined me.

I hold my breath as the three of us begin to disintegrate. I’m a bit surprised to hear Sa-br’wren scream like a little girl as his body disappears. Who could blame him? I yell my loudest battle roar, feeling this may be my last moment alive. Then almost as soon as it started, it is over. The three of us are once again solid. Stunned, I run my hands over my body, relieved that I seem to be wholly intact.

Endingo leaps off the platform and darts through a set of double doors. I’m preparing to jump down after him when Sa-br’wren grabs my arm, pulling me back. He clears his throat awkwardly, before speaking in a low, threatening tone. “Bocc-d’ar! You will tell no one of my screaming.”

“Of course not, my brave second in command,” I agree with a grin.

We both jump from the platform and bound after Endingo. I can sense TSSS in this direction, and Sca ’hlet has told me telepathically that the Dar-fnar eggs are in this general proximity. I will have my revenge, and my mate will be safe, for I can bear no other outcome.

“I will take Endingo. You find the eggs,” I order Sa-br’wren. “They are both near.”

We run down the hall where Endingo went. Dungeon cells line the hallway on each side. Some of the unusual people I saw above are incarcerated here in these cells. Does this mean they are dangerous to me, or merely that they tried to fight back against our shared enemy? All questions flee my mind then, for I see her . . . my mate, my TSSS.

“Bocc-d’ar!” she screams, shooting to her feet.

“You’re too late,” Endingo says as he takes the small box from his belt.

Time speeds up, and before I have a chance to act he cranks a circular knob to the right before aiming it at TSSS. She screams as tendrils of blue light snake out from the box and wrap themselves around her body. Her arms and legs are tied up in it as it quivers and pulses. Her body jerks and convulses.

Rage seethes inside of me. I can’t describe the fury I feel over seeing her in such obvious agony. I raise my trident and molten metal flows from the end, hitting Endingo on the arm, causing him to drop his evil weapon. He killed my mother and my sisters, but he will not have my TSSS.

“I have enjoyed your mate,” Endingo taunts as he backs toward the box, which has fallen on the ground. “But now I think it is time for her to die.”

I know he is trying to make me upset so that I make a mistake. I take a deep, calming breath and remember my training. I risk another quick glance at my TSSS, and I wish I hadn’t because seeing her suffer is more than I can take. For both our sakes, I must end this quickly.

I rush Endingo, holding my trident out in front of me. He bends to pick up the box then bolts upright. He holds it toward me and triumph dances briefly in his eyes. But his mirth vanishes the exact instant that my trident connects with his abdomen.

“This is for my mother,” I shout, plunging it in so deep that the prongs sever his spinal column. His agonized scream fills my ears like sweet music. “And my sisters, and the Dar-Fnar.” I twist the trident, taking care to inflict maximum damage. He will not threaten me or mine again. “And this is for all the women you murdered.” I’m panting, but it has nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with finally avenging my people.

I pull back savagely as Endingo weakly tries to lift the box in his hand and point it toward me. Before he can bring it into position, I allow the sword I have melded to my armor to shoot out from my other arm. The time for talking is over.

I raise my sword arm up over my head, and with all my might swing it around. The razor sharp steel severs his head from his body like a ripe starthax fruit. Blood spurts from the stump of his neck as he falls to his knees, then slumps forward. The head rolls to the side. I look up and see that TSSS is watching this. I wonder if I have made a mistake in letting her see my vengeful side; I remember her reaction to the men I killed in order to win her hand.

Tears run down her face. She is still in agony, held captive by the vicious blue threads. I look at her helplessly, unsure what to do next. Then I have an idea. I point my trident toward the box which has fallen from Endingo’s dead fingers. I shoot a stream of hot metal at it, melting both his hand and the box into a flat puddle. The blue threads holding TSSS evaporate, and she falls to her knees, then collapses onto the ground.

“TSSS!” I scream, as my heart stops. I fear I have lost her.

My voice seems to have revived her, and she stands up and runs to the bars. But the moment she touches them more of the blue threads shock her. She points wildly to the side. Does she mean for me to touch the round dials on my side of the wall?

“MELLT THAHT TOOH,” she screams.

I am unsure of what she wishes me to do. I lift my trident and point it toward the wall. “Gah verstah?” I ask if she wants me to melt it with my trident.

“VERY STAY! SAI! VERY STAY!” she yells.

I am glad my mate has learned more of my words than I have of hers. She has plainly said melting it would be good, so I direct my weapon and let loose the metal fires. The blue sparks stop immediately, and I reach out my hand and rip the bars from the wall. TSSS bolts through the opening and leaps into my arms, hugging me tight with her entire body.

“IMMM SOHRRY . . . SOOO SOHRRY,” she sobs into my neck, as I clutch her tight to me. I want to shift from my battle form so that I can feel her sweet body against mine, but I know that would be beyond foolish. I must keep my armor on until I know for sure that all of the Hock-ver have been eliminated. Still, I cannot bear to let her go, so I satisfy myself by clutching her in my metal form.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tessa

Bocc’dar and Sa-br’wren have freed the five alien prisoners who were being held in the same area I was. Each one of them seems to be a different species. They also found six huge elongated spheres. I think they’re dragon eggs because they’re covered with a hard, jewel-like shell that reminds me of the dragons’ armored skin.

They’re pretty heavy, and awkward to hold. The prisoners offer to help carry them, which leaves Bocc’dar and Sa-br’wren’s hands free to use their weapons if we run across any more of the Hock-ver. We make our way back to the transport platform, but stare at it in confusion.

When no one makes a move I decide that I probably have a better chance of making it work than Bocc’dar. At least I’ve grown up with computers. I try to feign confidence, even though I have no idea what I’m doing.

I climb up and look at the control panel, but it’s covered with strange symbols which mean nothing to me. I hover a hand over a green button which seems like a logical choice, then look back at Bocc’dar. I’m unsure what to do. Maybe we should start searching for an alternate way out of here. There might be a set of stairs. What if I press the wrong button and it scrambles us all to pieces and fails to reassemble us?

Given all we’ve already been through, I would hate to be responsible for something like that. A prisoner with blue skin joins me on the platform. He gently takes my trembling hand away from the button I was considering pressing. He says something indiscernible.

“You know how to use it?” I ask.

He nods his head yes. I guess that’s a universal gesture. Everyone joins us on the platform. It’s a bit crowded, but we all fit. Bocc’dar and Sa-br’wren draw their weapons and turn to face the outside of the platform because we don’t know if all the Hock-ver have been subdued.

The blue alien presses several buttons, and I begin to experience that weird out of body sensation as I watch everyone dissolve into a million particles. I really hate this feeling. Then we all re-form seconds later. I’m so very, very glad that I didn’t press that green button.

Then we’re on the main level. Kay, Bocc’dar’s war chief, is rushing toward the platform to join us. Even though he is in his metal form, I can tell he’s greatly relieved to see us. I look around the carnage of this indoor battlefield as Kay fills Bocc’dar in on what has taken place.

There are many faces I don’t recognize. Did Bocc’dar call in reinforcements to rescue me? I feel loved. I may not deserve it, but my man pulled out all the stops to save me. I’m determined to spend the rest of my life making it up to him. From what I can see, most of the Hock-ver are dead.

The few that remain have been restrained with metal wire. The other alien races that the Hock-ver were holding as slaves have been released and are roaming around. The blue electricity restraints are no longer binding any of them. I’m so thankful that Bocc’dar has freed them.

I can’t calm down though, because I’m deeply concerned that my stupidity has set catastrophic events into motion. I’m glad that Endingo is dead and all, but what if Bocc’dar came too late to stop him? I really hope Endingo was lying when he told me that he’d already communicated with his home planet about Earth, Krina, and Sagren. Yet, there’s no way for me to know for sure. The stress is killing me. Did I make it off easy, or have I put the entire populations of three planets at risk?

I’m not sure if there is anyone left on Sagren. I don’t even know if Vorek and Sarah are alive. If they are, they could be headed here, to Earth, or even Krina. It is impossible to guess what they might do. If only there were a way for me to communicate with someone, to warn them.

Once we return home to the castle, I will work more diligently with De-Var to master the Ro-heem language. Then I can tell them all I have learned, and admit to my epic foolishness. But unfortunately there is nothing I can do about any of this now. Impulsively, I wrap my arms around Bocc’dar and hug him.

He’s still wearing his metal armor, but I don’t care. I didn’t think I’d ever get to see him again. I’m not about to take one second of the happiness he brings me for granted. I can’t believe it’s happened to me, especially with the language barrier, but after I was kidnapped I finally admitted my feelings. I love my sexy alien. If I could go back to Earth this second I wouldn’t. I want to spend the rest of my life with Bocc’dar.

He loves me. It doesn’t matter that I can’t understand his words, because he shows me with his actions every day. Growing up in the foster care system has given me some rough edges. I built a wall around my heart to protect myself. But my failure to believe that someone could really love me just about cost me everything.

I believed the lies of an evil, bug-eyed alien—who I’d known all of five minutes—instead of the man who’d tenderly bound my wounds, and saved me so many times that I’m starting to lose count. I don’t know if I’m ready to take the wall down completely, but I built a gate today. As soon as we’re alone I’m going to show Bocc’dar that he, and he alone, has complete access to my heart.

Bocc’dar hugs me back, and then he takes my hand and leads me out of this place. I take in a lungful of the fresh air. It’s so much cleaner than the dank dungeon, even with the coppery scent of blood and burning metal filling the air. The grounds are crowded. Dragons and smaller fighter jets circle in the sky above, and many others have landed.

Two dragons wait just outside the door, expectantly. I know from my studies with De-Var that the dragons are actually called Dar-fnar. We walk toward the ruby encrusted one. I recognize her from my first ride to the castle, and from my rescue by the waterfall. I smile at her, as though greeting an old friend, and I could swear she’s smiling back at me.

Bocc’dar stands before her in his metal form and holds out an enormous egg. It is covered with ruby and emerald gemstones. The red dragon and Bocc’dar look into each other’s eyes. She snorts, and tendrils of smoke come from her nostrils.

A tiny puff of fire flows over the egg, swirling and encircling it. Then she puts her nose on it and breathes in deeply. And then I’m certain that she was smiling before, because she does it again, just bigger this time. Bocc’dar’s laughter fills the air. I don’t know for sure, but something tells me that this is her egg. Did Endingo steal her baby? If he wasn’t already dead I’d want to kill him again.

“SAI!” Bocc’dar shouts triumphantly, holding the egg up over his head for all to see.

All of the metalheads start their crazy chattering sound, and the ruby and emerald Dar-fnar raise their heads and roar, shooting fire into the sky. I know SIGH means good, so I smile and yell too. The thought of a mother being reunited with her baby makes me emotional in a way I’m not used to. Could this be a surge of pregnancy hormones?

My hand drops to my stomach, stroking the barely visible bump. There’s something I have to tell Bocc’dar. There was one good thing about being kidnapped. One of Endingo’s scientists pulled me out of my cell and ran some tests on me. They had an alien device that reminded me a lot of an ultrasound machine.

I’d gotten to see the baby growing inside of me. I’d heard its heartbeat. And all my fears and concerns about being a mother had evaporated in an instant. My mother may have abandoned me, but I choose a different way. I choose to love and nurture the new life growing inside of me. I know that this child will be raised in love. That this child will provide the hope of a new generation to Bocc’dar and his people. I’m going to be a mother. Now I just need to find a way to tell the father.

Bocc’dar climbs onto the red dragon’s back and straps the egg into a pouch on the side of the saddle, then reaches his hand out toward me. I carefully climb up and take my place in front of him in the saddle. The grounds are a beehive of activity as Ro-heem in their metal form swarm from the building and into their aircraft.

We soar above the clouds on the back of the red dragon. She really is a thing of beauty. After all that I’ve been through I’m no longer afraid of her. We are barely in the air when I feel my mate’s hands begin to roam freely over my body. Yes, I’ve finally admitted that he is my mate. He has shifted out of his metal form, yet the rock hard feel of his thighs around mine is almost as rigid as the steel he was sporting just a moment ago.

I can’t believe how much I’ve missed his touch. I guess that his overt sexuality is rubbing off on me. I don’t try to stop him, even though we are not alone up here flying through the air. Our escort of dragons and fighter jets soars around us, but no one seems to be paying us much attention. I feel the touch of his lips, nuzzling the back of my neck.

“I love you,” I tell him, even though I know he doesn’t know my words. But somehow I think he does understand when he says something passionately in response and grabs my hips and grinds my backside into his enormous erection which I can’t wait to have inside me. Just when I’m beginning to doubt we’ll be able to wait until we get home, I spot the familiar view of the metal castle sitting atop the mountain peak.

The dragons land on a grassy area outside the wall, and the large ship and fighter jets follow suit. Bocc-d’ar stands, and I’m relieved that he at least has on his loincloth. He holds my hand and shouts orders to his men as he helps me out of the saddle and pulls me along with him. I can tell he’s leading me straight to our bedroom, but I tug on his hand and tell him no.

He gives me a confused look, and then it’s me who’s pulling on him. I go so fast that I’m out of breath, but still I don’t stop. I tug him behind me to the tower with the secret door. And I don’t stop until we’re inside, surrounded by the familiar smells of paper and ink. On the flight back I finally figured out a way to tell him the good news.

My hands are shaking as I pick up a quill pen and grab a blank piece of parchment. I center the paper before me and sit down at the desk and start drawing. Only this time I’m not copying a page out of a manuscript . . . I’m drawing straight from my heart. Lines flow out of me. One by one I connect them and a shape takes form.

I keep adding in details until I see Bocc’dar’s large fingers running alongside the drawing, and then reverently tracing the same path down my face. He carefully takes the paper from me and holds it, treasuring it as though I’ve given him a great gift. Who knows, maybe I can figure out a way to frame it for him later, but I’m not done.

“The best is yet to come, big guy,” I murmur as I grab another sheet of parchment.

I draw the baby as I imagine it will look full term. I give him Bocc’dar’s eyes and a pale little wisp of hair on top like I had as an infant. It’s beautiful, there’s no other word for it. I turn to face Bocc’dar to see if he understands what I’m telling him.

His brow is wrinkled in confusion so I point to the drawing of the baby, then to myself in the portrait. When that still isn’t enough I take his hands and press them to my abdomen. I guide his hands to the slight bump our baby has made, and I’m looking in his eyes when they light up like the sun. That’s when I know he understands.

“Baby,” I tell him.

He tries to lift my tunic out of the way, but he can’t seem to get to my bare skin fast enough. This time when I hear the rip of fabric I don’t care, because I never want to wear this outfit again. This was the outfit I was wearing when I believed Endingo instead of Bocc’dar. I was imprisoned in these clothes and cried bitter tears thinking I’d never see Bocc’dar again. I’m happy to be rid it.

I hear something that I suspect is De-Var clearing his throat, but I’m too caught up in the moment to really notice, much less care. I faintly register the sound of a door opening and closing, and De-Var’s retreating footsteps as he flees our overt display of intimacy and leaves us to our private moment.

Bocc’dar has torn away all of my clothes now, and I stand naked before him. He drops to his knees before me and places the gentlest of kisses on my baby bump. My heart is so full I fear it might explode from experiencing too much joy.

Gradually his caresses change and I can tell that he’s moved on from admiring the baby growing inside me, to reveling in my body. Heat suffuses my core and all it takes is one brush of his hands across my pregnancy sensitive breasts to have me moaning. He stands abruptly and pulls me into his arms. Then he carries me over and lays me down on the rug by the fireplace.

I’m just about to tell him to lose the loincloth, but he beats me to it. When he enters me, I’m overwhelmed with the intimacy of it all. I had sex with other men before Bocc’dar, but never for the right reasons, and certainly never with the right man.

We are both incomplete apart from one another. We are two parts of one whole. And I’m starting to realize that getting abducted by aliens was the best thing that ever happened to me.

His hands are everywhere at once, stroking my flesh to a fever pitch. I feel his mouth close down around my breast and I shudder when he sucks my nipple and works it with his tongue. Our love making is different this time. I realize that I feel lighter as I let go of the pressure I’ve been burdened with up until now.

I will never stop caring for my friends and trying to help them, but I will not put my need to rescue them over my own personal well-being and happiness. Every life is sacred, and the one growing inside of me will keep an entire species from going extinct. Bocc’dar’s people deserve to go on living, and I’m going to do everything I can to help them.

For the first time in my life I actually believe that I deserve to be happy. Bocc’dar’s cock starts doing that unbelievable vibrating thing it does, and I dig my nails into his back and do my best to hold on tight as he thrusts wildly. He’s murmuring something soft and sweet in my ear. When I finally understand he’s using one of the few words he knows of mine I start laughing, and I don’t stop, not even as the mother of all orgasms thunders through me. He’s whispering “PENUSSS” again, like it’s some kind of endearment.

I love this moment. It’s perfect. And most of all I love my alien. Something inside of me has changed. I actually believe that just because things are good now, doesn’t mean they’ll end horribly. My intuition tells me that Bocc’dar will never, ever abandon me. To him, I’m not trash . . . I’m treasure. And he’s never getting rid of me.

He holds me close, and I wait until both of our heartbeats have returned to a normal rhythm before I move and make my way back to the table. I grab my third piece of blank parchment for the day. There’s something I want to tell him, something my tutor has inadvertently prepared me for.

I’d thought that the manuscripts he’d had me copy had been random, but he’d made sure I had the right words at my disposal for when I was ready to share them. I grab the quill, and write carefully. I don’t want to miss a single accent and mess up the meaning. I write I love you, and then I set down the pen and study his countenance.

A huge smile covers his face, ear to ear. He takes the pen from my hand, dips it in the ink, and begins to write below my words. His penmanship is beautiful, and I watch intently as he forms the elaborate symbols. “I love you too. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

I take the pen from him, and form my reply on the parchment. “I won’t ever leave you,” I promise.

And then he’s kissing me again, and my thoughts go fuzzy. Something tells me we’re going to have to start keeping a stack of paper and some quills in our bedroom. Now that we’ve finally found a way to communicate, I never want to stop talking.

Author’s Note:

Wow! If you’re reading this not only are you awesome because you’re reading my little note, but you’re also a rockstar because you’ve read through all three books in the series! Thanks so much for hanging out with my characters, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

Are you a little emotional right now? Because the ending of this book goes straight to my heart muscle and has me grabbing for the Kleenex!

I’m kind of up in the air about my writing/release schedule right now, so if you haven’t already done so please come vote in my book poll for what series you want to see next!

http://josiewalkerbooks.com/index.php/2019/06/22/which-series-do-you-want-more-of/

Josie Walker

Christina’s life is going according to plan until she falls off a dumpster and into another dimension.

Turn the page for sample chapters, or go get your copy at:

http://josiewalkerbooks.com/index.php/my-savage-alien-rescuer-parallel-dimensions-series-book-1/

CHAPTER ONE

CHRISTINA

I stretched my back and yawned, pushing my bright red hair out of my face. I’d already been awake for three hours and, of course, I’d started working the moment I rolled over and my brain clicked on. I suppose you could say it’s one of my more annoying personality traits, but once I’m awake there’s no turning back and I launch immediately into work mode.

Personally, I chose to appreciate the fact that it allowed me to get optimal productivity levels out of each and every day. I was aware that some people couldn’t even speak until they’d had at least three cups of coffee, but hey, to each their own.

This industrious quirk of mine might have been a problem if I didn’t live alone. But I didn’t even have a pet to be annoyed by my workaholic nature so it’s all good. I clicked “command S” to save my file and then closed the lid of my MacBook Pro.

I still needed to pick out music and design a thumbnail, but I was mostly done with my video on how to make a garbage can out of old magazines. The project had turned out even cuter than I’d imagined it would. I briefly considered keeping the project, but if I saved all of my crafts I would need a warehouse to hold them all.

I padded over to the fridge and groaned when I saw the line of Post-it notes I’d placed there to remind me that I needed to go grocery shopping. I pulled open the door to the fridge anyway, but all that greeted me was a bunch of half empty condiment jars. As depressing as the barren sight was, it didn’t really surprise me.

This wasn’t the first time I’d found myself in this particular situation. I sometimes imagine a world where high-tech futuristic robots replace my food stocks without me even having to ask, but I probably won’t be around by the time the fictional cartoon Jetsons’ fabulous life becomes reality. And I most definitely cannot afford a personal shopper.

So that left me with the present reality. Unless I wanted to try mixing ketchup and mayonnaise to make the world’s most disgusting tomato soup concoction, I wasn’t going to be finding breakfast anywhere in my kitchen. Given the fact that I’m very much a creature of habit it wasn’t likely to be the last occurrence either.

I worked for myself, and to say that I’m a little obsessive would be the world’s largest understatement. I ran a successful YouTube crafting channel, which meant my house was stocked with every type of tool and creative medium you could imagine. I could make any craft imaginable, so long as it wasn’t edible anyway.

But food and toilet paper . . . those items were much harder to keep in stock. Not for the first time I considered starting up some kind of food vlog, not because I knew the first thing about cooking, but because at least then I could count on eating on a somewhat regular basis.

I had no idea what to do about the toilet paper conundrum. Was it possible to have such an item delivered without it costing ridiculous amounts? I could imagine heaps of unopened Amazon boxes piling up on my doorstep when I forgot to go outside to retrieve them. With my luck the neighbors would steal it all, and then I would still find myself S.O.L.

I groaned and headed towards the shower. I had put it off as long as possible; I was going to have to shed the baggy sweats and t-shirt and clean up. People recognized me when I went out now, which was awesome except for the fact that it took me two hours to look as cute and together as I did on camera.

Most of the time I didn’t even bother to shower or get dressed because there was always more work to do, and I was the only one to do it. Most of my videos just showed close-ups of my hands except for the very beginning and end clips. So, I typically knocked out several video intros at once to avoid having to get glammed up as often. That way I didn’t have to get full body pretty so long as my nails looked good.

Honestly, I spent most of my time sitting on my butt in front of my computer going through hours and hours of footage and condensing it down into watchable portions. Lately, I’d been considering outsourcing some of the editing, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to invite someone else into the jumbled mess that was my life. Every room but the bathroom of my house was set up to film in. I had numerous filming sets so that my fans wouldn’t get bored watching me in the same spot all the time.

Entering the shower, I sighed as I stepped under the powerful spray. The hot water felt fantastic. The days’ old buildup of hairspray I had to scrub out of my scalp must have weighed several pounds because I felt physically lighter after I finished the onerous chore. I did my best to avoid glancing over at the giant mirrors that seemed to cover every inch of the walls in the bathroom.

They’d been there when I’d moved in, and although they were extremely helpful for doing my hair and makeup, I hated seeing myself naked. The last thing I needed was to see how many more pounds had crept onto my unforgiving ass and thighs. My body didn’t seem to care how little time I spent eating, or how few calories I actually consumed.

My evil DNA had decided I was going to carry around plus size curves without ever bothering to consult me. So my go-to strategy was to never ever look at myself if I didn’t have to. Editing myself with pretty clothes and makeup on video was hard enough, I didn’t need to see the X-rated version too.

I wrapped a towel around myself and then winced at the faint mildew smell wafting off of it. So, I decided to grab a fresh one. I reached for the door to the towel closet and saw another of my “helpful” Post-it notes alerting me to the fact that I needed to do laundry. I bit my lip in frustration; please let me have clean underwear!

Some days I can’t help but feel like the universe has it out for me. Every last pair of underwear was dirty, even the pairs that were really too tight, as well as my hideously stained period panties. All of this was steadily clueing me in to the fact that this day was not going to go well. As much as I wanted to crawl back into bed and start over, I knew that wouldn’t help. I had to go shopping, clean underwear or no.

Muttering under my breath about hiring a maid, I tossed a load of clothes into the washer and started it. Of course, I couldn’t afford to hire someone to clean for me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pretend. Even if I used the fast wash, there wouldn’t be anything ready in time for today’s outing. Ugh.

I blow dried my hair, and painted my face on. Too bad I didn’t have time for makeup every day because I always enjoyed the results in the end. I looked so good that I was considering filming a quick video intro or two when my stomach rumbled, reminding me of why I’d bothered bathing in the first place. Oh yeah, I needed groceries.

I pulled a colorful maxi dress out of the closet. It was one of my favorites, because I’d made it myself. It consisted entirely of fabric scraps, none of which had been larger than three inches in diameter. It had been one of my earlier attempts at quilting and it had turned out surprisingly well.

Smiling, I tugged it over my head and turned to assess my reflection in the mirror. The dress hugged my full breasts in the most flattering of ways, tapered in at the dip in my waist, and then flared out dramatically, thus ensuring that the substantial nature of my ass and thighs remained a mystery to the general public.

Now for the hard decision: I could wear gross dirty underwear, wet clean underwear, or attempt something I’d never done before . . . commando. I shocked even myself when I opted on sans panties. Was there some sex starved goddess waiting inside me to come out, or did the inner me just long to stay both clean and dry?

I grabbed my giant purse that’s more like a small suitcase than an actual handbag. It wasn’t the most fashionable of accessories, and it could be murder on my back, but I needed it so that was that. Most of my crafts were made from found objects, so my bag had duplicates of half of the tools on my craft sets.

I had everything from scissors, to screwdrivers, to pliers in my bag. Picking up people’s unwanted junk and somehow cramming it into my trunk was all part of my job. I’d considered buying a full sized van or a truck on more than one occasion, but had never quite been able to resign myself to driving something so ugly, or spending the money!

Whatever I made on my show served double duty in the income department. First off, I made revenue from the ads people were subjected to as they watched my crafting tutorials. Thankfully, most of my viewers were either too kind or too lazy to click “skip” on the ads placed in my videos. Those views were what kept my rent and my utilities paid.

My second revenue stream didn’t gross as much money, but was still worth the effort. Each project I completed was carefully photographed and then listed for sale in my Etsy store. I was still surprised at how many people liked watching my videos, but didn’t actually want to do the projects themselves. For those particular fans, my Etsy store was awesome because it allowed them to buy my one-of-a-kind creations without forcing them to put in the work. It was literally the best of both worlds for someone who wanted unique upcycled art and home goods.

I made a quick dash around the house gathering up Post-it reminders as I went so that I could put off the next shopping hassle as long as possible. Yikes, I was even out of duct tape and white thread. That’s the equivalent of a print store running out of copy paper . . . which apparently I’d run out of too.

I sighed as I tossed my bag in the passenger seat and clicked the garage door opener. It was going to be a long day. First things first, I hit the Starbucks drive-thru because even though most people had moved on to lunch by this point, my stomach was still craving the most important meal of the day. I ordered extra cream cheese for my bagel and sipped happily on my latte.

Now that I had something in my stomach, I was able to think clearer. I decided to shop for my craft supplies first because, unlike my perishables, they wouldn’t melt in the hot sun. As I navigated my way through the seemingly endless aisles, I answered comments from my YouTube fans, something I tried to do every day or they had a tendency to build up fast. I was three comments in before I realized I’d overlooked something crucial.

It was my birthday. The ultra crappy one I’d been dreading for years. Damn you, social media. I glared at the screen where someone had sent me an e-card with the dancing thirty balloons. And that’s all it took to make me wish I could go back in time just long enough to swap out my bagel for a donut. No, make that a dozen donuts, this was way bigger than a one donut catastrophe.

I was thirty years old now, which might not have been such a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that I was also single. There’s no way that wasn’t going to send me on a downward spiral. My uterus timer was beeping loudly in my ear, reminding me anxiously that there were only so many years left for me to pop out babies, as if I could have forgotten!

I paused by a display of soft fleece baby blanket material and my eyes started to water. I’d always wanted children, but I certainly couldn’t make one alone. Where were all the good guys? All I knew was they weren’t hanging out at the craft store. Trust me, I’d spent more than my fair share of time looking.

And I’d yet to bump into Prince Charming at the grocery store either. And therein lay the crux of my issues: I didn’t get out enough. If I had a normal job maybe I would already be married with half a dozen kids. But I loved working for myself, and didn’t want to give that up. Maybe I needed to get out more and meet more people.

But when exactly was I supposed to make that happen? I didn’t have time to hunt down a man! I had to keep my business running or I couldn’t afford to buy essentials like hot glue sticks and Mod Podge, let alone groceries.

Sure, I’d tried a few dating apps, but the only men who’d bothered to click on my profile had been complete duds. I wasn’t so lonely that I was willing to settle for just anyone. Was it too much to expect some sparks and sizzles? Had I missed my window? Was it too late for love?

I was getting more depressed by the second. Oh great, now I wanted donuts and ice cream. Knowing my body I’d probably gain five pounds just from thinking about ice cream, so I might as well give in and buy a few cartons.

I finished up and checked out at the craft store. I may or may not have added a couple of candy bars into the mix at the last second. And I may or may not have eaten one in the car on the drive to the next store. Judge me if you will.

Next up on my crappy agenda was groceries. I got a terrible parking spot and tried to pretend it was a good thing because maybe it would help me burn off the extra cream cheese and the candy bar; alright I admit it, I ate the candy bar! I hope you’re happy because I very much was not.

I moved through the aisles of the grocery store like a mindless zombie. Except for the jumbo-sized toilet paper and Kleenex I didn’t really pay much attention to what I added to the cart. My helpful Post-it notes sat in a useless wad in my giant purse. I wasn’t ever all that interested in food when I got depressed.

I knocked a bunch of Weight Watchers TV dinners into my cart, trying to focus on the fact that I might be hungry tomorrow and how I wouldn’t want to go out shopping again. And then I wheeled over to the display case with the Weight Watchers desserts and tossed several of those into my cart as well. I was already feeling guilty about the candy bar that was no doubt already settling down to stay in my jumbo-sized thighs forever.

I slid my purchases up onto the conveyor belt and stared morosely at the bakery section from afar. I refused to buy myself a birthday cake. There was no way that wouldn’t blow up in my face. Either I’d attack the thing and risk my stomach exploding from the awful binge, or I’d wind up eating the thing by myself over the course of an entire week. Yeah, nothing like a depressing reminder on my counter in case I forgot I was now officially in my thirties. Not going to happen.

I swiped my card and politely refused help out to my car because the mom in line behind me with the two toddlers needed it way more than I did. I was so jealous of the woman that I could almost understand what drove desperate people to kidnapping, not that I would ever do anything so awful! But if I could have traded lives with her right then and there . . . well, I just might have considered it.

It was the day before garbage pick-up in my area, so I drove a little slower than I normally did, busy scanning the trash piles for any treasures, just waiting to be discovered. I was always looking for the raw materials I made my upcycled art pieces out of. I was passing by a small strip mall when I saw something interesting poking out of the back of a dumpster. It was too big to be in there, whatever it was.

I parked nearby and shot a quick video of the dumpster, voicing my various theories about what it might be. Whenever possible I tried to include extra behind-the-scenes footage of me grabbing various junk out of dumpsters and off the curb. My fans had mentioned repeatedly how much they enjoyed being a part of the journey. Too bad I didn’t have a tripod with me or an assistant, because then I could have captured the real time segment of me pulling whatever it was out of the dumpster.

Satisfied with my footage, I returned to the car and put my phone back inside my purse. Then I looped it over one arm so that I wouldn’t have to return to the car for any tools after having already climbed up into the gross dumpster. On impulse I stuffed the new container of duct tape and the rest of my most recent purchases inside my giant purse.

As proof of how frequently I go dumpster diving I kept a little step stool in my trunk for exactly that reason. I glanced down woefully at my pretty dress and regretted that I hadn’t worn something more practical. Sure, I could have just driven off and stayed clean, but what if I missed out on something spectacular?

I was especially ruing the fact that I’d not opted for the wet underwear option. Odds were it would have dried out by now, and I would be a hell of a lot more decent if a strong breeze blew my dress up to my ears. But there was nothing I could do about any of that now. Sure, I could go home and change, but there was no guarantee that my mystery garbage treasure would still be there when I came back for it. I wasn’t the only person who saw value in trash. Nope, it had to be now!

“Happy birthday to me,” I muttered as I took the first step up. I swung my other arm through my giant bag so that both my hands were free but also so I could still access my tools if I needed them. I tried to balance on the edge of the dumpster because, based on the smell of rot wafting out to greet me, I really didn’t want to roll around in whatever was in there.

Then I held my breath; and, believe it or not, it was because I was excited, not because of the smell. I think I’ve already established that I’m a total nut job, so I won’t bother analyzing that further. Queue the celestial music; I was pretty sure I’d just found something I’d wanted for a very, very, very long time.

All I could see was the hint of a wooden wheel poking out from the mess of trash bags. I considered taking another brief chunk of video, but my balance was a bit precarious so I decided not to push it. I tried to brace my hand on the wall of the building, but it was too far away to be of any use.

I was trying not to get my hopes up, but there was a small chance that I might just have found myself an antique spinning wheel. Cleaned up and refurbished, I’d probably be able to profit upwards of $1000 on it. Of course, the potential value didn’t really matter because if I’d just found what I thought I had, I had no intention of selling it. Like not ever.

No joke, I’d dreamed of owning a spinning wheel since I was ten years old. Yup, I was a craft nerd all the way back then, in the days before I knew what cellulite was. But they’re as pricey as a high end sewing machine, so I’d never been able to justify the expenditure. That didn’t mean I still didn’t really, really want one though!

I tugged a couple of trash bags away to free the wooden wheel and, with every inch I exposed, my hopes rose a teeny smidge higher. I was growing impatient with the whole process and my thighs were massively protesting about all of the bending and squatting. With all the extra walking to the grocery store and squats, obviously I was never going to need a gym membership at this rate.

As the burning in my thighs increased from seriously uncomfortable to downright agony I knew I had to put an end to the physical torture. A sane individual would have just walked away. But at the risk of repeating myself, I’d just turned thirty and I’d wanted a spinning wheel for two decades, so defeat wasn’t an option.

I let go of my cautious perch and gave the whole thing a big old tug, which did succeed in freeing the antique machine from the trash. I had just enough time to squeal, “It is a spinning wheel!” before I was toppling backwards off of the dumpster. I was too shocked to respond and I’d merely continued my white-knuckled grip on the wooden apparatus as I tumbled backwards, my body flinching reflexively as I waited for the harsh slap of concrete against my frame. But the pain never came.

It was as though time was no longer governed by reality, and the fall stretched on and on interminably. I was enveloped in a hazy cloud of darkness, and I felt disoriented and dizzy as though all of the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere with a giant vacuum. It was like an out of body experience, but I hadn’t taken any fun hallucinogens to explain it.

For a brief moment I felt as though I was surrounded by an enormous bowl of Jell-O, and then the lights came back on and I was able to breathe once more. I drew in a frantic gasp of air and let loose the loudest scream I’d ever uttered as the spinning wheel and I crashed down hard on top of a moss covered log. Where the hell had that come from?

Where was the unrelenting smack of concrete as it split my head open like a melon? Why wasn’t I dead? I was still gripping the wooden wheel as I turned my eyes in a slow disbelieving circle. Nothing I saw made sense.

Gone was the dumpster and the back of the strip mall. There was no sign of my car. It was just me and the antique spinning wheel in the midst of an enormous forest the likes of which I’d never seen, not even on the nature channel.

It wasn’t a normal forest. It was like something out of a kids cartoon. All of the colors were wrong. None of the plants were shaped like anything I recognized or could name. It was really, really weird and I began to question just how hard I’d hit my head. Was my brain oozing out onto the concrete? Was I dying?

Before I had time to analyze things further, a loud hiss captured my attention. I spun to stare in wide-eyed terror at the alien creature before me.

“What the hell is that?”

CHAPTER TWO

CHRISTINA

I’d never seen anything like the creature, but it didn’t take a degree in animal sciences for me to discern that it wasn’t friendly. I had a sinking suspicion that it would like nothing more than to have me for dessert. I was trying frantically to remember if I had a candy bar in my purse, or if I’d left that in my car. Because, seriously, who doesn’t love chocolate?

It was crouched down on all fours. It was muscular and looked as though it had a prehistoric origin. Its hide was gray and leathery like an elephant’s, with strange armored bumps protruding from its back. Its mouth looked like two claws pointing at one another, and it had a disgusting pink tongue lolling out one side.

My eyes darted around wildly, but it was like I was trapped in some kind of crazy stoner dream. To my right was a purple lake and the plants growing out of it represented every color of the rainbow. Something dark red slithered by my side and it looked like an upside down octopus, complete with tentacles and all. The claw-mouthed creature let loose a dry hiss. I blinked my eyes and willed myself to wake up.

“This is a dream,” I said, as I stared down my own personal nightmare vision. I heard a strange clicking sound from behind me and that’s when I realized that claw-mouth had friends, five of them to be precise. I would have been terrified if I hadn’t already moved on to my new coping strategy.

Through sheer blind stubbornness I had managed to convince myself that nothing I was seeing was real. This was all just a dream, likely due to indigestion. I never should have had eaten that candy bar. It was probably expired!

Painting had never been my favorite medium, but I was going to have to give it another whirl whenever I woke up because this was the most vivid dream I’d ever had and I wanted to commemorate the experience. I added some blank canvases to my mental shopping list. I couldn’t decide between watercolors and oils. They both had their merits.

The claw-mouthed creatures kept edging closer and I reminded myself once more that they were nothing more than a figment of my imagination. There was nothing to get worked up about. Of course, my body didn’t seem to agree and the hair on my arms began to stand on edge.

A giant, armored tail whipped past me, and for a moment it was all surreal, and then came the pain. When I felt the hot acidic burn slicing through my thigh I released a blood-curdling scream. Dreams weren’t supposed to hurt!

I was in freaking agony. Like a twenty on a ten point pain scale. I couldn’t pretend anymore. As impossible as it might seem, I was facing off with a pack of monstrous prehistoric beasts and they were vicious.

Scant hours before I’d been melting down over hitting the big three-0, but in hindsight that was a cakewalk. I was going to die. Talk about the worst birthday ever! If I could have, I would have raced into my mother’s judgmental arms lickety split. Hearing her tell me what a failure I was would have been heaven compared to how my day was shaping up.

Incredulity arched my brows as I spun around to keep the creature from cutting me again with his razor sharp tail. I’m far from athletic, so at the risk of sounding redundant let me just state for the record that I’m not in great shape. I didn’t have a gym membership, and it’d been one heck of a long time since I squeezed in some cardio. So why was I still kidding myself that I might somehow be able to outrun them?

That left me with only one alternative. I was going to stand my ground and fight like my life depended on it. That wasn’t going to take a lot of imagination on my part because I could tell that it did. I braced my weight on my good leg and took in a deep breath because that seemed like the right thing to do.

The spinning wheel wouldn’t have been my first choice of weapon, but it was the only one on hand so I thrust it out in front of me. Maybe if I got really lucky I could manage to stab one of them with the pointy spindle part. If I was even luckier, it would turn out that this was actually Sleeping Beauty’s spinning wheel, and the spindle had been cursed by Maleficent. The pathetic thing is that I was so delusional by that point I was actually hoping that might be possible.

The claw-mouthed creatures continued to creep closer. As the circle around me shrank inwards I knew my time was about to run out. I couldn’t help but feel a little pissed about the fact that this was such a sorry ass way to go out. Did I really have to die?

I had so many things I hadn’t gotten to do. Damn it all. Deep down I’d always thought that somehow, some way I would still manage to stumble across Mr. Right in time to pump out a baby or two. Defeat began to pull me down. That, added to the pain in my leg, was enough to bring a fresh flood of tears to my eyes. I blinked to clear my obscured vision.

And then a deafening sound shattered the weighty silence. It was too primal to call it a yell, too powerful to label it a scream. I turned my head towards where the noise had originated, and took a step in that direction, which was a mistake.

The moment I moved it my leg protested so violently that it felt as though I’d been stabbed all over again. My poor leg felt like it was on fire, and the powerful poison was rapidly working its way through my system. I was beginning to feel a tad bit loopy, so couldn’t trust my eyes at that point.

Then a man dropped down from a tree above me. He was naked except for an itty bitty scrap of leather that I suppose you could call a loincloth, although it wasn’t big enough to hide much. Even as injured as I was I still couldn’t help but think, “Yummy.”

His body was so muscular that he would make professional bodybuilders weep. I was instantly attracted to him, which was insane because I’d never reacted to a man like that ever. And this man, well, I wasn’t entirely sure he was even human.

Was he all decked out in cosplay gear? Or did he really have yellow eyes that glowed like the end of a flashlight? And then of course there was the blue skin that looked more like it belonged on a reptile than a man. Couldn’t I even have normal sex fantasies? Seriously, what’s wrong with me?

My leg was seeping something nasty and I didn’t care enough to look down and discern if it was puss or blood. I pressed the back of my hand to my head only to discover that it was slick with perspiration. Great, now I was feverish and dizzy. And evidently I was completely lacking in survival instincts because instead of coming up with an escape plan I was trying to remember if I’d put on makeup or not because I wanted him to think I was beautiful, or at least not a dog.

The sexy warrior let loose another fierce battle cry, and a shudder went through my body that was a tiny bit afraid, and a massive bit aroused. I’d like to blame the strange poison, but I’d hate to lie. I was so distracted by the blue hottie that I didn’t even see what happened next.

But I felt it. Oh God, I felt every bit of the white, blinding, awful pain. And then, there was no more pain because whatever poison laced the claw-mouthed creature’s tail dragged me down to oblivion and I crumpled to the ground in a graceless heap.

TROG

I was out checking my snares when I heard a sound I’d never heard before. I cocked my head to the side and focused my full attention on it. Someone was in trouble, and that someone sounded female.

There was stark terror in the scream, and something twisted sharply in my gut. I knew I had to intervene. Only a coward would ignore a female in peril.

The thought crossed my mind that it could be a trap and I knew full well that I should proceed with caution. But then another scream sounded and there was no more time to reason through the situation. There was only time for action.

So, I stopped wrestling with logic and just started running. I heard the distinctive hiss of the Barvoks, which at least gave me a heads up as to what beasts I was about to tangle with. Barvoks were one of the more serious threats of the forest, but I’d faced them before and would likely do so again.

I slowed as I neared the clearing where the beasts were crouching. It was a large pack. I easily counted six of the creatures, which meant more of them would be hiding somewhere out of sight. Barvok packs always attacked together, which was partly why they were so deadly.

Standing in the midst of the ruthless hunters, I bespied a strange sight. My breath caught in my throat. This was something new, something other. Battle lust thrummed through my veins, but there was yet another kind of lust flooding through my loins. She was indeed female.

Pale flesh protruded from a colorful body covering, and there was a strange hump jutting out of the creature’s back. A long mane of red hair flowed all around her as bright as a raging fire. Then the figure spun suddenly and I saw her perfect face, and the fear in her eyes.

That look changed everything for me. Something burned inside of me and I snarled and roared as I leaped into the fray without a care for my own survival. From the moment I laid eyes on her there was no questioning it . . . I would gladly die for this female.

The Barvoks should have fled on sight but they did not want to release their prey. They must have been hungry. They would not feast on this day. No creature would be allowed to hurt her, not so long as I drew breath. For she was mine;, I knew it in an instant.

Rage rattled inside of me as I launched into attack mode. I thrust my spear towards the Barvok nearest my female, plunging it deep into one of the few areas not protected by its thick, protective shell. The Barvok hissed and shuddered as my blade sliced through the soft flesh beneath its belly.

I was outnumbered, but, with seeing one of their number perish, the animals’ survival instincts resurfaced. They fled instead of seeking revenge for their fallen companion. Cowardly creatures at their core, they do not fight battles they are not certain of winning.

They had picked the wrong fight. I steered clear of the fallen beast. Barvoks’ tails are laced with a wicked poison, and I couldn’t afford to be weakened. I moved closer to introduce myself to her, and to reassure her that she was safe now.

I couldn’t hold back the growl when I discovered that my female was not as fortunate in evading their tails as I had been. I needed to tend to her wounds quickly. She had crumpled to the ground and passed out while I’d battled with the Barvok and had not moved since.

She was curled around a strange collection of things, and I could only assume that whatever they were, they were of great value to her. So I did my best to gather them all up to bring them along. I threaded a bit of rope through one of the many holes in the strange large wooden object and slung it effortlessly over my shoulder. I had never seen such things as the strange female possessed and I looked forward to studying them closely at a later time.

My curiosity for her belongings was nothing compared to my interest in the female, however. I ran a finger across the delicate arch of her cheekbone and wished I had time to admire her beauty further. But I knew I must hurry to move her. Staying put wouldn’t be safe. I couldn’t have been the only one to hear her screams.

I pulled her into my arms, and when I felt something wet I leaned in and took a deep breath. She was bleeding. I studied the wound briefly, and decided she must have been mauled by one of the Barvoks. This explained why she was unconscious. Barvok venom is very powerful, and without the proper treatment it would prove fatal.

No. I would not allow that to happen. She would live; I would see to it that she was properly tended to. I made swift strides in the direction of my home. All the while I kept my eyes peeled for a Fargen Bush. I would need its leaves to make a poultice to help draw the poison from her skin.

Perspiration beaded along her face and I could only hope that I wasn’t too late to save her. The thought tore loose something primal inside of me and I bared my teeth in anger. No! I would not lose her. She was mine. I did not even know her name, yet that part of me that guided my greater path began to heat up inside of me. She was my mate. I would not lose her, not now that I had finally found her.

I spied a Fargen Bush. Fortunately, its bright orange foliage made it stand out. I hurried to strip several fronds from the plant. Knowing I would need my free hand to climb up to my home I improvised. There was an intriguing gap at the top of her strange, brightly covered chest covering. It was something I planned on studying at a later time. But not until I was certain that she was safe.

I wedged the orange fronds in the tempting gap between her flesh and the colorful covering and pushed them down far enough that I needn’t worry that they would fall right back out. I gripped her tightly to my side and made my way carefully up the broken tree limb that served as the initial step to my home.

My dwelling was at the top of a large sturdy tree and I was lucky to have it, for it kept me safe from the dangerous creatures below. I reached for a vine and tested the strength before committing our combined weight to it. Then I swung across the expanse and easily maneuvered the rest of the way to my home.

Once there, I laid her down gently on my bed of furs. The strange hump on her back put her at an uncomfortable looking angle so I tugged at the leather skins until at last I managed to free her arms and pull off the hump. I set it to the side, not understanding what it was, but relieved that she was now able to lay down flat.

I was a good hunter and therefore there were more than enough hides to cover us both. Although, I would happily have given them all to her if only she would open her eyes again. I refused to consider that I might have arrived too late to save her, for the thought was untenable. She would live, and we would have many, many moon spans together.

At long last I had found my mate, and I would not relinquish her, not even to the relentless hands of death. I unslung the strange wooden contraption and set it down. Then I crouched down beside her and studied the strange garment obscuring her limbs. I knew I had to remove it so I could tend to her wounds. But I did not understand how it worked. Everything about her was equal parts strange and wondrous.

The colorful skins rose a little when I laid her down, and I was encouraged by the bit of ankle I could see poking out from below the strange colorful hide she wore. If I could see her pale flesh, then surely the strange clothing was not part of her actual body!

I began to tug the covering up, just as I had worked to remove the strange hump on her back. I was hopelessly entranced as I revealed more and more of her delectable body. I did so one small span at a time, scarcely remembering to breathe as I studied her pale perfection.

Her legs were foreign compared to mine, but that didn’t make them any less desirable. Her pale skin was as smooth as a Narfin’s hide and it was all I could do to refrain from stroking her to see if she felt as soft everywhere else on her body. When I reached the nasty gash on her thigh I hissed wildly, grieved by the sight. I shoved a piece of the orange plant in my mouth and started chewing vigorously.

Fargen fronds tasted disgusting, but she was well worth the discomfort. I spat the paste out into my hand and smeared it across her injury. I felt guilty when I found myself once again distracted by the beauty of her shapely limbs.

I was ashamed to admit that my member hardened even at such an innocent touch. I had lived alone for so long, too long. I had long since despaired of ever finding a mate to share my days with. And now I’d found her and I wanted to worship her body, but I could not and would not do that until she was able to enjoy it alongside me.

I pressed a hand to her brow and noted instantly that her skin was on fire. That was a serious symptom, and I knew I must work hard to break the fever. I hurried to tug the rest of the strange covering from her body and then tossed it off to the side.

There were more scratches on her side. They weren’t nearly as deep, but I applied more paste just to be safe. Those cuts were so shallow that I doubted they were from the Barvok’s venomous tail.

I drizzled a bit of water into her mouth and she sputtered at first before swallowing. I repeated the gesture a few more times and then I rocked back on my heels, unsure of what to do next. I briefly considered pulling the strange skin back over her head.

But she was feverish and I needed her to be as cool as possible. Also, I wished to admire her beautiful form at my leisure. There was no part of her luscious body that did not interest me.

Her breasts were round and full, and topped by dusky pink nipples. I yearned to take one in my mouth, but I would not touch her while she slept, not like that. I would tend her wounds and care for her, and nothing else. My sac grew tight and heavy with need for her, but I kept my hands to myself.

Day gave way to night, and hunger stirred my belly. However, I did not want to leave her side in order to forage. I feared that she would wake the moment I departed. I nibbled on some dried Sarblo fruit and took comfort in watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

I could not remember another time when my mind was so full of possibilities. I began to map out a plan for the next day. I would need to gather twice as much food as I normally did. Then again, she was much smaller than me, so perhaps I wouldn’t require quite that much.

But I didn’t want her to experience hunger. No, that certainly wouldn’t do. I would work as hard as I needed to in order to provide for my mate. She would want for nothing.

The hours passed, and once I felt for certain that she was stable I allowed myself a much needed respite. I laid next to her, and slowed my breaths until at last I slumbered. All my thoughts and dreams were of her.

I slept only a brief while, because there was too much to do to rest for long. I arose filled with excitement and a new feeling of purpose in my life. I pressed a hand to her brow, and was relieved to note that her skin had cooled significantly. The Fargen fronds were working to rid her body of the poison.

After assuring myself that she was still sleeping soundly I left to hunt. Although I was loathe to leave her side, I knew I needed to provide her with nourishment when she awoke. I moved quietly so as not to wake her, taking a long moment to soak in her beauty before I swung onto the nearest vine and began my descent to the ground.

I would find her meat, and that would please her and make her strong. My mind skipped ahead to the coming future with pride. She would open her arms to me and invite me to pleasure her body. We would mate, and then her waist would grow thick with our young.

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Have you caught up on all of Josie’s books?

The Order Of The Bear Series:

Something Shifter This Way Comes

The Secret Lies In The Shade

The Advent Of The Witch

From The Shadows A Psychic Will Rise

Shapeshifter Love Series:

Panther’s Mate

Panther’s Mark

Leopard’s Claim

Bear Allegiance Series:

Paws & Surrender

Claw & Relent

Growl & Embrace

A Hot Alien SciFi Romance Series:

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Infatuation

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Entanglement

A Krinar World Novel: Alien Appetite

A Paranormal Holiday Romance Series:

Christmas With Her Unicorn

Easter With Her Bunny

Halloween With Her Vampire

Parallel Dimensions Series:

My Savage Alien Rescuer

My Fierce Alien Warrior

Stand Alone Books:

Ghost Lover

Table of Contents

I do not pick her up to carry her because

A Krinar World Novel

Books by Josie Walker

Copyright Page

Sophie gets more than she bargained for when she unwittingly rents a haunted house . . .

Book Blurb

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

Author’s Note:

Christina’s life is going according to plan until she falls off a dumpster and into another dimension.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

Come hang out with me!

Have you caught up on all of Josie’s books?