Captured by the Alien Warrior
Hope Hart
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
Dragix
I have been alone for centuries. Sometimes, I imagine what it would be like to be surrounded by others of my kind on this planet. But today, the very thought is laughable. Life is monotony.
At least it was until just a few moments ago, when a huge metal object slammed into the ground.
I know metal. It was this material that the Braxians used to kill my parents.
I watch for a while, but nothing happens. Finally, the yellow two-legs approach. I snort, a small plume of smoke escaping my left nostril. The yellow ones taste bitter, their bones splintering easily.
I leave, no longer interested. I fly over my territory, scanning the forest for anything that will hold my attention. Truthfully, this entire planet is mine, yet I do not often care to leave my favorite mountain, with the large, flat rock so perfect for napping in the afternoon sun.
I bank left, flexing my wings as I turn my attention to my next meal.
I do not concern myself with two-legs.
Charlie
I think I may be dying.
I’ve been hit in the head plenty of times before—the consequences of living with a man who thought it was A-okay to smack me in the face when I displeased him.
This is something different. My head feels wrong. And there’s so much blood. I can smell it all over me, the scent metallic even through the bitter smell of the vomit I just left on the ground in front of me.
We’ve been walking for hours. Following the yellow creatures who say they’re taking us back to their tribe to help us find food and water.
At this point, it takes every ounce of my energy just to put one foot in front of the other. The other women are flicking me concerned glances, but I have no choice except to follow the herd like a wounded sheep, waiting to be picked off by a wolf.
I snort at that, and my head spins as I stumble over a tree root sticking up from the ground. I just need a few minutes. Just a moment or two to catch my breath and hope that the world stops spinning sickly around me.
“I need a break,” I manage to get out. One of the other women—Ellie, I think her name is—glances at me, and her mouth drops open. Her face pales as she glances at my head and then back at Karok—the leader of the Voildi.
He doesn’t look impressed. “We must keep moving if we are to make it to our camp by nightfall.”
Nevada—a tough, confident woman who told us she’s a marine—gives him a long look.
“Charlie isn’t feeling well,” she says. “We can take ten minutes.”
The other women stop, and I reach out, leaning against one of the trees. The white bark is rough under my hand, and I take deep breaths, fighting against the nausea as I hear Ellie begging the Voildi to help us find some water.
Water.
I’d give just about anything for just a cupped handful of water right now.
I don’t know what the Voildi say in reply, but from the tension I can feel rolling off the other women, it’s not good.
And then I’m stumbling back, fighting against the roiling in my stomach as several huge, long-haired, seriously muscled men jump into the small clearing and draw their swords, eyes narrowed on the Voildi.
“Great,” I mutter, too sick to even be afraid. “Just fucking great.”
I don’t want to die. I haven’t even truly lived yet. So I turn, scanning the clearing behind me as I attempt to find a hiding spot. I’m well aware of my limitations, and from the sound of metal clashing, I can already tell that my self-defense class is useless here.
I back away. If I have to choose between dying from a head wound and being struck through with one of those huge swords, I’m going to choose option A. It involves curling up and going to sleep, and right now, that sounds just peachy.
I frantically scan my surroundings, finding a small path between several of the tall, bleached trees. I use them to steady myself as I stumble away, searching for somewhere safe to hunker down and hide.
The further I get from the sound of men fighting—and dying—in that clearing, the more certain I am that I can hear water rushing in the distance.
Maybe this can be my contribution to the group, since I’m not exactly contributing much else. If the other women are smart, they’ll be hiding as well. And if we all live through the next few moments, I can at least direct them to water.
It’s this thought that makes me increase my stumbling pace. The blood pounds in my ears as I trip over sharp sticks and rocks, without the energy to even wince in pain.
And that’s when the creature strikes.
I scream as something hits me from behind, and I’m falling, but right before I hit the ground, I’m lifted up, up into the fern-colored sky.
Claws. Those are claws holding me, pressed into my skin. Within a moment, my body flips, my legs rising, until I’m falling backward.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
Just like I imagined. The wounded, bleeding sheep was picked off from the herd.
I really wish I’d just found a nice spot to fall asleep and let the head wound do its job.
When my body begins to flip, I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m definitely about to be thrust into the creature’s mouth. The last sound I’ll hear will be the crunch of what are sure to be sharp teeth as it bites down on my body.
I shudder, but the creature isn’t eating me yet. Instead, I feel something beneath me, something warm. The claws let go, and I plop onto…scales.
I glance up, and my stomach roils as my mouth
