Series by Elizabeth
Xiveri Mates: SciFi Alien and Shifter Romance
Taken to Voraxia, Book I (Miari and Xoran)
Taken to Nobu, Book II (Kiki and Kinan)
Taken to Sasor, Book III (Mian and Seena)
Taken to Qath, Book IV (Svera and Krisxox) – coming 2021!
Taken to Kor, Book V (Rhork and Deena) – coming 2021!
Population: Post-Apocalyptic Interracial SciFi Romance
Population, Book 1 (Abel and Kane)
Saltlands, Book 2 (Abel and Kane)
Generation 1, Book 3 (Diego and Pia)
Brianna, Book 4 (Lahve and Candy) – coming 2021!
Brothers: Interracial Dark Mafia Romantic Suspense
The Hunting Town, Book 1 (Knox and Mer, Dixon and Sara)
The Hunted Rise, Book 2 (Aiden and Alina, Gavriil and Ify)
Excerpt from…

Taken to Nobu
Kiki
I wake to the sound of my own teeth chattering. I’m cold. I remember the fuzzy sensation of goop clutching my bare body, the sensation of my hair floating in thick syrup, but when I open my eyes, the memory is gone like it never was.
Whispers. I hear them now. Softly at first before they grow in volume.
“She’s awake. The chosen…”
“The alien you mean…”
“The weak one…”
“She would not have been chosen if she were so.”
“Shh! She can hear you.”
“Who cares if she can hear me, she can’t understand. She’s useless. Speaking only her stupid, alien speak…”
“I…” I lick my lips, voice cracking from so many rotations of disuse. “I can hear you.” The fighter in me overrides the activist. I can’t stand by and let myself be abused. I refuse. Not anymore. Not again. Not by anyone. “You stupid bitch, I can understand you too.” I don’t know how, but I can.
One female voice titters nearby, but just the one. The voice who’d spoken before rasps, “What did she say? Tell me.”
There’s a slight scuffling before a darker, deeper voice shouts, “Nox! Nox…We only have a matter of moments before they raise the gate. Before we run the mountain. We must prepare. If we do not present well, we will not be chosen.”
There’s a pause, a few more whispered words. I use the lapse to find my fingers, to wiggle my toes, to shift my legs back and forth. They’re stiff and trapped and for a second I panic. Then I blink. White light spears my eyes, but they water and clear and water again. Eventually I’m able to see past it. Black on white. Shuffling feet on stone, white walls beyond them…no, not walls…something white…something foreign…something cold.
I’d heard of ice before, been told tales of icy white powder called snow. But it only existed in ancient Earth. Not on the moon colony. I shudder again — more at the knowledge that I’m in one of these snowy ice caves than the fact that I’m actually cold though I’m that too — and push up with my arms. My cheek peels apart from the ice-slicked floor and I notice I’m not frozen, I’m just cold. The furry blanket beneath me and the floor is probably the cause. I push up against it, head spinning for a moment before my gaze finally settles and when it does I take stock.
I’m in an ice cave, it’s light out and the light is natural. There’s no electricity in here, no wires, no heating. Just a black stone ground and ice surrounding us in a dome. It isn’t a big dome either, but one large enough for eight…eleven females to stand or sit. None of the females are human. And since I’m in an ice cave I can bet my bottom dollar that I’m not on the human colony. No, I’m on an alien planet now and all of the alien females are squatting now in a circle near the gate. All but two. Me and the one who paces.
She glances down at me and I meet her gaze squarely, knowing this is the one who bad mouthed me — one of the ones. I can tell by the look of her alone. Quickly raking my eyes over her frame, I see she’s unarmed, wearing a strange combination of hide and fur-lined leather. The other women wear the same. I glance down at my own clothing, shocked to see I’m dressed identically to them.
Don’t panic. Be brave. I think of the words, forming them in my mind as if they were putty. Shaping them. Hardening them. Sharpening them until they have the strength of a battle axe, then breathing them. Being them. Or at least they’re what I’m trying to become.
I shift my knees so that they’re under me, between my body and the blanket and the floor. My head spins for a moment, then settles. I take that as a good sign and shove my feet under my knees, then rise. It takes me a couple tries, but I rise up to standing, feeling immensely tall with such a low ceiling and all of the other women kneeling or seated. Except for the one.
She glares at me and barks, “And what would the human know of the mountain run? She knows nothing. And look at her. How small she is. She’s puny. She won’t be any use at all.”
“Hush,” one of the women says. I glance at the two females and notice that they are about my age, from what I can tell anyways. They’re both aliens with skin that ranges from ice blue to cobalt. All of the other women are the same. There are a couple that are more purple than blue, and one who’s bright green, but no, they aren’t human. I should be, but I’m not afraid. Because in my heart of hearts I sense that there’s much worse coming.
“How…” I cough to clear my throat and when I edge forward, I see that the women have a crude outline of sticks and rocks between them. Like a map. But I can’t identify anything on it. What am I thinking? That I’m back in the colony? “How long have I been asleep?”
“That isn’t important. We need to prepare a good chase!” The pacing wench howls. She whips her hair back and a cascade of black hair tumbles over her shoulder in thick, stiff, silken strands. Her face is severe. Eyes high and wide and nose narrow and low. She has a petite chin and high cheek bones, ears sharpened to points. She looks more alien to me than the man alien who raped me, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that her arms are thin — almost thinner than mine, and definitely less muscled — and her ass is fleshy and her upper body looks thin and weak. She has protection plates covering her chest where her breasts should be but she doesn’t have the natural warrior’s physique of the males as I remember them on top of me, pinning me down, chasing me…
The woman — alien — on the ground who seems to be leading the congregation snarls up at the dissident one, “She is the reason we are here. Do not dishonor yourself. If you do not wish to help, then step aside. Time is dwindling.” The woman ducked her head back down to stare at the map.
I can make some sense of it when I got closer, eyes narrowing, heart pounding as my mind starts to come to conclusion I’m not ready for yet. Where am I? Where the fuck am I? But I already know the answer to it. No. It isn’t possible. Can’t be possible. Not again. I tell myself things to make myself feel better. It’s icy here. I’m not on the colony planet. I’m somewhere else. Somewhere new. Somewhere far from The Hunt. But when I listen in to the women’s discussion, I know that it is a cold, new realm, but The Hunt has chased me to it all the same.
“Where are we?” I bark, the sensation in my chest like thrown stones. I feel myself begin to sink as I relive thoughts of him. I am brave. I’m supposed to be brave… but… He is the reason I don’t sleep. He is the reason for my night terrors. Not so much what he did…but the way he laughed… I can’t be ready for it again. I’m not. I’m a warrior now. I’ll fight to death before I let him get to me again.
A slight, impatient sigh from the lead female before she turns her seemingly sightless grey eyes up to me. “We are in the Drax, my Va…”
“She is not Va’Rakukanna!” The insolent one spits.
The sage woman narrows her eyes to slits but when she speaks, she says to me, “You are named Va’Rakukanna by Voraxian rights, but here on Nobu we observe tribal law. It is ancient law. The laws of first strength and first right. Eligible females participate in the Mountain Run to be awarded breeding partners.
When the gates are lowered, we must run. We are given a quarter solar’s head start before the warriors and the Orakki are loosed. Once they are, they will run the mountain in hunt for females. They will fight for coveted females. They will certainly fight for you…”
“And if they catch us?”
The woman’s forehead flashes white. It startles me and I jump back, but the color almost just as quickly dies. “They will breed with us. It is said that when both parties are stimulated equally from the chase, that it is most like to be a successful coupling. More kits are produced from the Mountain Run than any other season.”
Several other women murmur their assent, nodding vigorously excitedly. That’s when it hits me: they want to be here. They aren’t fucking terrified, angry, and destroyed like me. They don’t know what it’s like. I try to pity them. But maybe that’s not it. Maybe they’re just fucking alien savages. Just like the men.
My blood is heating but I clamp my mind vice over my mounting panic and focus. She says we don’t have much time, and I have no intention of participating in this Hunt on another planet, and if I have to, then I plan to either outlive it or be killed by it. There is no in-between. In-between is what I’ve been living these past two rotations. A half life. But I’m stronger now. I’m stronger. And no one is fucking touching me.
“Why run? Why not just sit here and wait for them to come?” I ask.
Again, white flashes in the woman’s face and I wonder if this isn’t some sort of surprised expression. It would help if it were, because otherwise, there is no expression to their faces whatsoever. Just sculpted cheeks and sideways blinking eyes that freak the shit out of me. “As a ruse, my…as a ruse?” She seems to correct herself, but I don’t know why. “It could be intriguing. To confuse them, perhaps? But certainly all of us couldn’t…” Her brow bone flashes grey then blue then the palest cream. Several of the other women begin to whisper. Some shake their heads.
I don’t understand and unleash my frustration. “I’m just saying, what is the point of running? Can you answer me that?”
“We must give good chase. If we are too easy to catch, then it will be assumed we are too weak to bear kits. We will not be chosen, even if there are unmated males left. And even if we wanted to remain unmated,” she says, aghast at the idea, “it would be too dangerous. The Mountain Run can take to the end of the solar, and by the lunar the temperatures are too stark. And even if somehow one managed to survive the lunar temperatures, it is likely that a night beast would find you quickly.” She shakes her head. “They are not possible to kill bare-handed.”
“What about a woman who isn’t found by the nighttime? Does she go free?”
“Free?”
I grit my teeth and spit through them. “Does. She. Go. Free?”
“If a female were to evade capture altogether, then…I suppose she could choose not to select a mate, as none were suitable for her. She may be given rather to a pool of females in a different tribe to hunt herself for a stronger, more worthy male but…my Va’Rakukanna, your concerns are unfounded. Never has this happened in the history of the Run on the Mountain.”
I feel my insides pitch with a sour sort of joy as I think there’s always a first time for everything.
“Truly, you don’t need to worry, though, Va’Rakukanna. This Mountain Run has been called in your honor. We never thought we would be so lucky to have our own Okkari — the Va’Raku — discover his Xiveri mate on a Dra’kesh moon, however, he did and now that you are well he wanted to organize the Mountain Run immediately. Even if you are not able to present an adequate chase, and even if another male vies for you — which is like to happen given the interest of our males in the human females,” she says, trying out the word in my own human brogue. Hearing our language on her tongue feels slimy and an unnatural chill shoots down my spine. I shudder all over. “But the Okkari would not allow himself to be bested in this. It is a true test for him. And he will take you no matter how you present. It is known that you are weak and injured…”
“Shut up,” I spit, though I don’t mean it. I feel momentarily guilty, but this woman is driving me fucking insane with her positivity. I don’t want to be here. I want to see where my friends are and I want to know that their alright. I want to go back to my mom and Jaxal and the shitty colony we live on, but first I need to survive the night. “Tell me everything about the terrain.”
She nods and proceeds to show me the crude outline of the mountain that they’ve sketched with twigs and rocks and snow. There are a few known hideouts, so naturally I’ll be avoiding all of those. There’s a copse of trees that looks promising. A mire that looks equally promising and what she describes as a stone labyrinth of Chenag nests that also looks good.
When I ask her what’s beyond this patch of land, she says, “Nothing. Just the ice ocean on top of the mountain. To the east. As far as the eye can see.”
I shudder at the thought, and as another wind gale whips in through the opening above the gate, bringing frost and promise of a slow, icy death with it. “And how do the males hunt?”
“By scent. They have been through our cave to track the scent markings of the females they desire most. Several stopped by to tag your scent while you slept, including the Okkari.”
What. In. The. Actual. Fuck. I stop breathing for a second, then air punches into my lungs. I feel sick with the taste of it as I glance around, imagining the huge, red giant who raped me leering over me while I sleep, a big blue giant like the one who’s probably torturing Miari now as I speak, right beside him. Why didn’t they just rape us again then? I shut down my thoughts, refusing to think of Miari because I can’t help her now. Or Svera. Whatever gods Svera prays to will keep her safe. They have to. Because I can’t get to them here on this ice planet. I need to get free so I can see them and make sure they’re safe. Make sure they’re not ruined like I was. But first, I need to kill the red one.
Sweat glosses my palms and the women are busy trying to decide how best to traverse the labyrinthine cave system, but I’ve got half a plan and a lot more questions. “If they tag a female they want, but they don’t find that female, what happens?”
Some of the women are glancing at me, clearly irritated by my interruptions, but the leader still patiently says, “They may choose to accept the female they have found, but more times than not, they will keep hunting. It is known that most if not all makes will not participate in the Mountain Run in the hopes of finding their Xiveri mate, but their Xanaxana may still take a shine for one or more of the females. In this case an alternative will be acceptable…”
“And you say this Va-whatever thinks that I’m his like…Xiv…whatever?”
“Hexa, there is no think,” she flashes again with white, then tips her chin down, “you are.”
“She is nothing. She hasn’t been claimed yet. She hasn’t done the mountain run. She may think she’s Va’Rakukanna but she’ll never be Xhea,” she spits the last word foreign to me as a nasty, twisted whisper. It almost sounds like a challenge and I almost actually rise to it until I realize that she and I are in agreement about everything.
I glance at the woman whose forehead is as black and red and menacing as her words are. “You’re right. And I want you to help me.”
She takes a half step back, the most expression I’ve seen from any of the women so far. “Verax?”
“They tag us by scent so we need to disrupt it. Everyone take off your clothes.” No one moves, but I see several ridges shine with light. “Take them off!”
I have to have help shrugging off my outer layers because they’re all bound around me in ties and knots I don’t know how anyone is supposed to be able to get through. If I’d been going through this hunt with the layers, I’d have been grateful for the twists and knots and belts and binds. But as it stands now, they make for slow progress.
Two of the women are in the nude, shivering and turning blue. Well, an even bluer blue. “Trade. Take each others clothes. The more different p
eople’s clothes you can wear, the better. And what about your bras and underwear? Where are they?”
“I’m sorry but this word is not translating. Maybe my unit is older than yours.” I wonder fleetingly if the reason she and only one other are speaking to me is because they are the only ones with translators, or if it’s something else. Because not all of her words are translating either.
“Nevermind.” I shake my head and finally down to my last layer thrust forward my panties. “These. You…you don’t have any.” I glance around and see that all of the women are naked beneath their thick, furry hide suits. I’m the only one with underwear and a bra and when I glance down at it I finger the stitching. Svera made these. She must have dressed me. She must still be alive.
My heart clenches so hard it hurts. I swallow the pain of not knowing and quickly take them off. I tear them into strips and hand them to the women, for as gross as it is, I know they’ll carry my scent best. The women seem to understand what I’m doing and even though it’s wicked disgusting I see several of their faces flash in white and then blue and some yellow, some pink. Mostly blue though, a playful indigo.
“You get what I’m doing here?” I ask as I thrust a strip into the hand of the leader.
She smiles at me. The first time any of them have made a face. It wrecks me. It’s just so…relatable. Like maybe aliens…are people to? No. “You are clever. I see now why the Okkari has organized the Mountain Run for you. He wishes to win you, for you to know you have been well provided for in a male.” She drops her tone and leans into me, which I find strange since she’s buck ass naked and so am I and I’m fucking freezing. “He has told tall tales of you. Of how you are a warrior who battled a khrui. I see they are not so tall after all. You also honor us now. For with your scent marking us, it will make us desirable to more of the males. It is said you human females are very fertile. Perhaps the males will scent fertility between us, and perhaps it will be so.”
Taken to Voraxia Page 27