Her Secret Champion
Lunarian Warriors: Book 5
Roxie Ray
Contents
1. Atlanta
2. Apex
3. Atlanta
4. Apex
5. Atlanta
6. Apex
7. Atlanta
8. Apex
9. Atlanta
10. Apex
11. Atlanta
12. Apex
13. Atlanta
14. Apex
15. Atlanta
16. Apex
17. Atlanta
18. Apex
19. Atlanta
20. Apex
21. Atlanta
22. Gallix
Her Fearless Warrior
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Her Secret Champion
1
Atlanta
There were two kinds of people in my world: the controllers, and the ones who get controlled.
As it turned out, the same stupid crap was true for the whole freakin’ universe, too.
My cell was four paces wide and four paces deep. It contained a bed, a rusted tap that trickled a thin stream of water when I turned it on, and a bucket that I was trying my best to ignore. There was a heavy, uncomfortable metal collar around my neck with a chain attached that kept me tethered to the back wall, so I couldn’t even reach the barred door that I was locked behind. I’m not exactly the tallest—back home on Earth, I got called “fun-size” a lot and couldn’t reach the top shelves of my walk-in closet—but if I stretched my arms up over my head and balanced on my toes like a ballerina, I could place my palms flat against the ceiling. If I were any taller or even a little bit claustrophobic, this place would have made me lose my mind.
Actually, I’d only been here for a week and it felt like I was losing my mind anyway. Some would say I’d have to be crazy, considering what I was planning for tonight.
But first, just like every night, I had an audience. When I saw a sliver of light bloom outside my cell, only to be eclipsed by a tall, curvaceous shadow, I knew exactly what I was in for.
Right on time, Queen Lieja had arrived to gloat again.
“Atlanta. How lovely to see you.” Lieja tossed her thick, red curls over a bare, bright yellow shoulder and gave me a poison-pink grin. She was dripping with jewelry and dressed in a fancy green gown like she’d just come from a party. Knowing her, she probably had. Up in the levels of the palace above me, the remnants of yet another feast were likely being cleaned up by her servants as we spoke. In Lieja’s hands, she held a golden plate full of table scraps: my evening meal.
I didn’t buy the smile any more than I bought the pleasantries in her words, though. I was in this cell because of her.
Or, well, I was in this cell because I’d tried to kill her. It was pretty much the same thing.
“Queen Lieja,” I sneered back at her. “To what do I owe this displeasure?”
“Oh, Atlanta. Don’t be dramatic.” Lieja pouted like I’d just offended her deeply, but I didn’t buy that either. If she wanted me to be pleasant and polite and well-behaved, she shouldn’t have me kidnapped from Earth only to force me to dance at her stupid shindigs—and she certainly shouldn’t have shoved me into this cell in her dungeons when I took my chance and tried to stab her with a steak knife.
I’d been forced to dance for the amusement of people who wanted to own me for my entire life, so I get why she thought I’d be happy to perform. Back on Earth, my twin sister Savannah and I were social media influencers, shimmying and shaking our bodies in front of our cameras to keep the masses entertained while we spewed a bunch of propaganda for the sectors, our country’s soul-crushing government. But at least on Earth, I’d had the illusion of freedom—even if I hadn’t appreciated it at the time. Here on Nightmoor, the prison planet where Queen Lieja held court, there were no such smoke and mirrors.
I wasn’t an influencer. I was a slave—and now, I was a prisoner to boot.
Sometimes, all that trying to fight the chains that bind you gets you is just a collar around your neck.
“I brought your dinner, Atlanta. You should be grateful for that.” Queen Lieja opened the small metal flap at the bottom of my cell door and pushed the plate through it. “Are you not going to thank me for my generosity? Look, I even had the meat charred the way you like.”
I eyed the food on the plate, which included what looked like giant chicken leg that had been burned to a crisp on the outside. Early on, I’d explained to Lieja that humans didn’t eat raw meat like she did, so I guessed this was her servant’s way of trying to cook the food for me. Unfortunately, I knew what it would taste like: charcoal on the outside, dry and crumbly within.
I didn’t miss that someone had already taken a bite out of the chicken to boot. It only highlighted my status here: Queen Lieja and her guests ate like royalty, and I was left to gobble up whatever was left like a stray dog.
Alongside the chicken there were a few torn-up bits of bread and some fruit as well, though, which I actually was grateful for. The meat, I’d choke down once Lieja was gone—but everything else, I could stash in my pillowcase with the rest of the food I’d squirreled away there.
If only Lieja knew that every time she fed me, she was making it that much easier for me to escape.
“Oh, yes, thank you so much.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm, which unfortunately, Lieja was well versed in. She might have been an evil, nasty alien queen, but thanks to the communicator chip she’d had shoved into my skin just behind my ear, we understood each other just fine.
“Someday, you will regret how ungrateful you have been to me, Atlanta.” Lieja’s lip curled like I’d just spat on her best dancing shoes. “There are worse fates that could have been bestowed upon you, you should recall. Or, do you want to be sent to the Rutharians,
