by Alana Khan
Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series Book Nine
By Alana Khan
Beast
Copyright
Beast: Book Nine in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series by Alana Khan
P.O. Box 18393, Golden, CO 80402
www.alanakhan.com
© 2020 Alana Kahn
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
Cover by Elle Arden
Acknowledgements:
My Alpha, Beta, and Advanced Reader teams are so very helpful and must be acknowledged in every book, because they make them so much better. They point out plot flaws, what’s missing, and what needs to be jettisoned. They mention additions that always make the book better. And an extra pair (many of them) of eyes means that despite my best efforts, they catch typos.
Thanks to Stephanie A., Lori L., Kathleen H., Camille B., Katia F., Rosalie, Kim K., Lady Susan, and Dr. Lee. As always, my beloved daughter helps me plot my books, coming up with great ideas. The Louboutins? That was her.
Interested in joining one of my advanced reader teams? Contact me at [email protected]
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Table of Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Ar’Tok
Who’s Who
Present Day
Somewhere in Space on the vessel Stealth Three
Up to Now . . .
Need to remember who’s who onboard the Fool’s Errand? Go to the Who’s Who at the end of the book.
Chapter One
Beast
“Fuck you! Stop! You can’t make me go in there.”
Two squat, muscled guards are hauling a tiny alien into our cell block. They are well-armed, and the small female is no match for them. She struggles, kicking their shins and hurling curse words until one of them touches his wrist-comm and activates the pain/kill collar surrounding her neck.
After squealing in pain, she goes still for a moment, the full force of the shock stopping her forward motion. As they drag her to our cell, she rouses enough to moan and try to tear from their grip. One guard chuckles low from the back of his throat as he shocks her again.
I barely move fast enough to catch her—my hand cushioning her head from cracking on the hard metal floor as they toss her comatose body into our cell.
She weighs almost nothing in my arms as I place her on my bunk.
I’ve been in this cell for three days with another gladiator, Ar’Tok, a female called Willa who says her race is human, and a canine Willa has taken to calling WarDog. We’re on our way to auction. This new little female looks to be the same race as Willa, who is now kneeling next to her.
I step aside, not knowing how to help. I don’t want my large, green bulk to frighten her.
Willa cups her hand under the faucet, then dribbles water on the female’s lips.
“Have you seen this before? Two shocks in a row like that?” Willa asks without taking her eyes off the newcomer. “Will she wake up?”
“The collar can kill, but it wasn’t set that high. It fried her nerve endings with pain, but she’ll recover,” I tell her.
They call me Beast because of my prowess in the arena. Even though I’m a force to be reckoned with in a gladiator fight, I don’t welcome the sting of the shock collar. Born into slavery, I quickly learned to avoid its punishment.
The pain sizzles along every nerve in your body, stealing control of your limbs. I remember the agony as if it were yesterday even though I haven’t tasted its bite in over a decade. This little female kept fighting until she received a second shock. Only a crazy person would resist her captors like that.
I’d never seen a human before, but now that I’ve been in the cell with Willa, I can appreciate the beauty of our little newcomer. Her short, blond hair is spiky, and there’s a delicate ring in her left nostril.
A question arrows into my brain—what would it feel like to flick the tiny metal ring with my tongue?
The new female is wearing short stilts instead of shoes. After I pull them off and place them at the foot of my bunk, I see the soles are red. I wonder if it’s a talisman to bring good luck. If it is, it didn’t work for her today.
“I can’t tend to her in the top bunk. Can we keep her in yours?” Willa asks. “Do you mind taking the empty one?”
“Fine,” I say.
The cell is small, maybe ten by ten fiertos. There are two sets of bunks, a toilet, and a sink. Ar’Tok is on the top bunk over mine, Willa is on the bottom bunk across the cell. The canine sleeps next to her all night; she pets his thick fur until the moment she falls asleep.
After climbing into the bunk over Willa’s, I watch her work with the newcomer. She’s whispering soothing words to the unconscious female on the bed. I’ve never been on the receiving end of such gentle treatment.
Red Shoes rouses, starting with low moans and ending by sitting straight up. She’s so short she can do it without bashing her head on the upper bunk.
“What?” She licks her dry lips, looking around in confusion. Her eyes round in fright as she sees me. “Is this a dream?” Her eyes lock onto Willa’s as if they’re a lifeline.
“You’re on an alien slave ship. I wish I could tell you this was a dream, honey, but it’s not.”
Aerie
Fire sears through every nerve and synapse from scalp to soles. I’m no stranger to the pain of abuse, but this hurts worse than anything I’ve experienced before. I’m not just in agony, I’m so weak I’m having trouble holding my head up.
My hand flies to my neck and I feel the hard, metal collar surrounding it. It probably looks just like the one the human female next to me is wearing—stark and foreboding. I clutch the filthy mattress to keep my balance—my world is spinning.
“Alien slave ship?” I ask, hoping for a different answer this time.
“I was abducted five days ago. Beast over there tells me we’re on our way to auction.” She tilts her head toward the scary green alien perched on the top bunk across the cell.
I move my hands from the mattress to my thighs and pinch myself hard enough to hurt. As much as I don’t want to believe it, between the burning agony in every fiber of my body and the pain in my thighs, I convince myself I’m not dreaming.
Okay, Aerie, it’s not your first time at this rodeo. You’ve woken up in horrifying circumstances many times before. Maybe not this horrifying, but you’re an old hand at this. After twelve different foster families and group homes, now’s the time to move into ‘new placement mode’.
Step one, assess other humans, or in this case . . . people? Aliens? Figure out who is naughty and who is nice, who might beat or rape you, and who won’t. The human is safe, she’s trying to help—that’s good. I don’t like the way the green
guy on the top bunk is eyeing me—he looks way too interested. He goes on the naughty list. And . . . did she call him Beast?
The dog looks like he could eat me in one bite. His teeth are as long as my index finger. But he’s not interested in me. In fact, as I’m assessing him, he ambles over and nudges his head under the woman’s hand to get a pet.
The bed above me squeaks, and I jump off the mattress to get a peek at what’s going on up there. Well, ‘jump’ turns out to be a figure of speech. What I actually do is half lurch and half tumble.
After winding up crouched on one knee, I haul myself to my feet. I’m looking up at a huge scary alien. His skin is pale white, his horns—yeah horns—curl over the top of his head, and he’s badly scarred over most of his body. There’s a deep gouge around his neck, as if he was garroted and only survived by a miracle.
When I get past the sheer terror, I notice he’s assessing me just as I’m assessing him—figuring out if I’m friend or foe and if I’m a threat. Considering he’s a mountain of flesh and I’m five-foot-one, I assume I’m inconsequential to him. Since he doesn’t move a muscle, just watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, I conclude he means me no harm.
Although I’d like to crawl back into bed, face the metallic wall behind me, and go to sleep, I don’t allow myself to do that. Doing a slow 360, I take in my new digs. Metal walls on three sides, metal bars on the fourth, and a metal floor and ceiling. These two guys are enormous. If they couldn’t figure a way out of this cell, I doubt I can.
I can’t allow myself to think about what will happen at the upcoming slave auction, nor do I permit myself to ponder what might happen after that. Stay in the here and now, Aerie. Except for the green guy, I think I’m safe.
“What’s your name?” the woman asks.
That’s right, make friends. It’s an excellent safety strategy.
“Aerie. And you?”
“Willa. Where are you from?”
“New York City.” I don’t add the ‘by way of every foster home in the St. Petersburg, Florida area’.
“Oh, I’m from Benson, Texas.”
I know I should pretend to make friends. Pretty brown-haired Willa seems nice enough. I just feel itchy inside, like I should do something.
After snagging my shoes from the foot of my bed, I move to the sink and wash them.
“Are these guys safe?” I whisper as I slip into my semi-clean Louboutins. I don’t care if I’m still a bit wobbly and these are six-inch stilettos, I feel better when I have them on. Between my thousand dollar pair of shoes and my gray power suit, I feel like I have on armor and am ready to march into battle.
“The gladiators? I’ve been in here with them for three days. They haven’t laid a hand on me. Beast over there caught you when the Urluts threw you into this cell. If he hadn’t, I think your skull would have cracked open.”
“He seems a bit too . . . interested.” My eyes dart to him and catch him looking at me.
“He doesn’t talk much, neither of them do. You and I are new at this. I don’t think they are.”
The ship rapidly shifts course. The movement is quick enough to make me grab onto the vertical support of the bunk bed. Another lurch is so sudden and jarring I lose my grip and fly across the cell.
Beast must have amazing reflexes because he jumps off the top bunk and catches me before I crash against the unforgiving wall. He's safely tucked me in his arms as he slides us both into my bunk. I’m facing the wall, he’s plastered to me, his back exposed to the room.
“Hold onto the bed frame,” his deep voice rumbles into my ear.
His hands surround me, gripping the frame to keep us from being tossed off the bed. Perhaps the slavers kept me in stasis on my trip from Earth. The first thing I remember since walking in my parking garage is about five minutes before they tossed me into this cell. I don’t know much about space travel, but I’m pretty certain this frantic maneuvering is not standard operating procedure.
A high, grinding whine pierces my ears. It sounds as if a laser is building power, just like in the science fiction movies I like to watch. Then a deep rumbling burst. Unless the movies got it all wrong, I think our ship just shot at something.
“What’s going on?” my voice is high and panicked.
“Battle.”
Willa was right, Beast isn’t a talker. I have no idea why, at a time like this, I become aware of the hard male body hugging me tightly. The skin on the muscular arms that surround me is mottled metallic green. The alien green is beautiful against my flesh. His voice at my ear is rich and husky; his warm breath drifts across my cheek.
I caught enough of a glimpse of him when he leapt off the bed to save me to notice he’s wearing nothing but a loincloth to cover his sex. His granite-hard arms cling to the bed trying to keep us from either being crushed against the wall or flung onto the floor.
I have no idea what possesses me to release my hold and turn in the circle of his arms, but I do. My back is jammed against the unforgiving metal surface of the cell, but the harsh pressure is on the periphery of my mind, which is wholly consumed with taking inventory of Beast’s face.
He sports high cheekbones and a perfectly-formed nose, the bridge is surrounded by five gold rings. His hair is variegated deep green and ebony dreads pulled into a knot at the top of his head. It’s long enough to graze his ass. His lips are light peach that somehow look masculine and ultimately kissable.
I’ve never thought of a man’s lips as kissable before, but his are.
I glance into his emerald eyes. They’re looking at my lips with as much intensity as I looked at his.
The lurching movements of the ship, the whine and boom of laser fire all fade into the background as Beast and I share this moment.
Maybe what they say about danger is true. I read that people who go through trauma together are more likely to fall for each other. Well, this is trauma, and if we get out of this alive, I want to attack those kissable lips.
His cock, covered only by thin fabric, is hardening against my belly. If we live, perhaps there’s more in store for us than kissing.
The battle moves from background to foreground when a deep, metallic blast reverberates through the ship. I hear a sharp cry from Willa, and peek over Beast’s shoulder to see her crouched under her bunk, WarDog nestled against her.
Ducking back into my green protector’s embrace, I call, “Willa, are you okay?”
“Terrified!”
Yeah, aren’t we all.
The ship stops dead—the most jarring movement since the battle began. I lurch against Beast’s hard body. Then the ship is still and almost silent. There’s a static, crackling buzz that sounds like electricity.
Beast backs off the bunk and helps me to my feet. At some point in the battle, Ar’Tok left his perch above us and pressed himself into the corner of the cell. He unfolds to a standing position and must be pushing seven feet tall. Beast offers a hand to Willa and pulls her out from her hiding place.
“I’m guessing it’s Marauders,” Beast says.
Ar’Tok looks impassive as Willa asks, “What’s that?”
By the look on the two gladiators’ faces, I don’t need to hear the answer to know it’s terrible news.
“Crazies. Bands of aliens of every race who attack ships, board them, then rape and kill the inhabitants. The lucky victims are killed then raped, not the other way around.”
The mental picture this brings to mind chills me to my marrow as bile rises in my throat. I want to ask questions, but really, I think he just gave me all the information I need.
“If it’s Marauders,” Beast pauses, making certain he’s got my full attention, “I can kill you quickly before they open the cell. Tell me if that’s what you want.”
Those beautiful green eyes pierce mine, full of compassion. “You’re not joking,” I say. It’s not a question.
He shakes his head. “I could snap your neck before you know it. If you were my sister or mother, I’d urge you to
let me do it.”
I feel tears trail down my cheeks. I thought I was handling the whole abducted-from-Earth-and-slated-for-auction thing pretty well. But being raped and killed by Marauders? This brings the shitshow to a whole new level.
I nod twice to Beast, stifling the ‘thank you’ that almost spills from my lips. I can’t force myself to thank him for this small mercy.
“And you, Willa?” he calls over his shoulder, not veering his gaze from mine.
“Umm, yes?” she says and nods her head.
A snarky Aerie who lives inside me and offers a running commentary on my life says, so let me get this straight, the best thing that happened to you today is that the hunky gladiator you just met offered to snap your neck? Not your best day—not by a longshot.