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Adva_Snow Queen Retold

Page 10

by Daniela Jackson


  She moans as her fangs scratch my neck. She runs her tongue up to my ear and my body shivers. Her fangs sink into my neck. Bliss surges through me like silver liquid. Rive drinks greedily, moaning and rubbing her bottom against my hard cock.

  She moans louder and tears her mouth off my neck. I tumble her on all fours, lower her jeans and panties and drive my cock into her wet cunt from behind. Then I fuck her hard until she’s my little mermaid. Until we both tremble in satisfaction.

  “I love you,” Rive gasps as she corrects her clothes and sits on her heels. Her emerald eyes fill up with tears.

  “I love you, Rive. I love you so damn very much.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

  I bury her in my arms. “Don’t be. You are my wife and I’m your husband. I love everything about you. You hear me? Everything.”

  “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t. Hush baby, I love you. Don’t worry about anything.”

  “I’m evil, Kadmiel. As evil as demons.”

  It breaks my heart. “I’m as evil as you. It means that we’re perfect for each other.”

  She chuckles.

  “Let’s go home,” I say. “It’s time to celebrate.”

  To be continued…

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review.

  ‘Calla: Beauty and the Demon—The Final Battle’ coming soon.

  Excerpt-Straniera

  By

  Daniela Jackson

  Scarlet Empires Book 1

  (Subject to change)

  Chapter 1

  Alyssa

  My eyes sting as I stare at the three moons so enormous and so close to me that I feel like an ant. They shine white gold with a brown tinge around their craters—like a breathtaking menace against the dark orange expanse of the sky with a full moon and two crescents. It’s as light as a summer evening.

  I’m dreaming. I’m certain I am. Yet I feel the sand beneath my naked feet burning my skin. The hot air scented with herbs is burning my lungs.

  Panic races through my heart and it threatens to break out of my rib cage.

  I woke up about two minutes ago. I’d been lying on the sand. The heat of it had woken me.

  The pain from my feet urges me to move. I rise on my tiptoes.

  “God, help me wake up,” I shriek.

  My throat feels dry. My eyes feel dry.

  I’m a flower drying out, dying, except I’m a student.

  I studied family law last night and I went to bed around midnight as usual.

  I should have woken up in my bed in the flat I share with Lisa, my best friend. I should have woken up on Earth where I live.

  Except I didn’t.

  I woke up below those three fucking moons. In a desert.

  I sniffle and pull forward. Shakiness invades my blood like a poison. My vest and shorts cling to my body. Sweat beads my forehead. The thin streams of salty moisture trickle down my temples and prick my eyes.

  I start panting.

  The horizon blurs, glitters, shines like a mirror as the brown expanse of the hostile land threatens to swallow me, kill me, and make me insane.

  Then I see them—a group of people emerging from the shimmery wall of the horizon as though they’re ghosts. They’re dressed in black—long tunics, scarves covering their heads and faces, but their eyes are cold like glaciers, blue like the air in the high mountains.

  “Help me,” I rasp. “Please, help me.”

  “Straniera,” one of them growls with a deep female voice.

  I know this word. It’s Italian and means ‘alien’, ‘foreigner’. Relief washes over me and my knees bend.

  I’m on Earth.

  I’m just hallucinating.

  Too much coffee.

  They’re doctors who are going to help me. They’ll deal with the caffeine overdose and I’ll start seeing them as doctors not people from some alien desert.

  I’m American, but I was accepted to the Italian University six months ago. I have just started my first year of Law.

  My mom dreamed of going to university in Italy—the country where her mom comes from. She never went to university so I decided to study in Italy for her.

  The people surround me and I freeze. They’re tall. I’m like a dwarf compared to them. Two of them leap to me and grip my arms, tumbling me down to the sand so I lie on my back. I manage only a sigh.

  Two hands fold my legs, causing me pain and they spread my knees. Those hands rip my shorts off me.

  My heart stops beating as two fingers touch my pussy lips and a hot breath puffs on my inner thigh. I wiggle but too many hands are immobilising me.

  “A virgin,” a raspy male voice says.

  It’s English, but rough and distorted. Dreadful.

  The hands tumble me over on my stomach as the sand invades my eyes and mouth. My wrists get bunched together and tied with a piece of string. I’m lifted like I’m a feather.

  As my feet find support against the ground, one of them throws a cape over me, covering my vision. A hand shoves me forward. Another hand slaps my ass.

  A thought wavers in my head.

  I’m in hell.

  I can’t see anything as these wild dangerous people race me like I’m a horse. My feet burn, hurt and numb then hurt even more as the uneven surface of the desert damages my soles. I fall to my knees. A hand griping my arm urges me to stand up.

  Then a hand shoves me into a smelly environment. The stench makes me retch—human sweat and urine. The sounds of human breaths surround me.

  A hand pulls the cape away from my face and my eyes meet a female’s glance. She looks my age, nineteen to be precise, her face dirty in the streak of light filtering through the window in the wooden ceiling just above my head. It’s secured with metal bars.

  “Straniera,” the girl says, sadness pervading the emerald ocean of her eyes. Her irises have yellow flickers like those of wolves. She wears a kind of tunic that’s too tight and exposes her small breasts. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  I feel stunned at the breathy mix of Italian and English that has just come out of her cracked mouth.

  “What is this place?” I gasp. “Where am I? Please, help me. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t understand if you speak so fast,” the girl says.

  My eyes roam over my surroundings and see three other girls, their eyes shining emerald with yellow flickers too. I’m in a cramped wooden shed, four steps high and six steps wide.

  “Lanee,” the girl says. “My name is Lanee. My mother was Straniera too.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say as the shed moves forward and I fall back.

  My head bumps against the wall as the sound of animal origins drifts to my ears. It resembles a horse’s neighing. I must be inside a kind of wagon.

  “Neither did my mother,” Lanee says as she helps me sit. “She came from the land called Earth. Our gods brought her here so she could give my planet more daughters.”

  A shooting pain courses through my heart. “No.”

  Then my mind clears, detaches. A thought wavers in my head. I was abducted. Abducted by some fucking aliens and thrown into this abyss of hell.

  “You can speak my language,” I say.

  “You speak two languages,” Lanee says as she sweeps her golden brown hair away from her olive face. “That’s what I can sense from you. My genome allows me to speak every language.” She sounds like she’s reciting a paragraph of an essay. “A group of my brain cells can recognise the area of your brain responsible for your ability to speak languages and then my brain will switch the required mode on so I can understand you and speak like you. I don’t know what that means as I’m not very educated, but gods say so.” She leans towards me. “This planet is not safe for you, Straniera.”

  I don’t know whether her abilities frighten me more than her warning.

  “Can I go back to Earth?” I ask.

  “No,” Lanee
says. “And you’d better focus on your survival.”

  Silence falls upon me, cold like snow.

  “Alyssa,” I say. “My name is Alyssa.”

  Lanee flashes me a pale smile. “A really nice name.” She waves her hand to the others. “They are called Esi, Tmee, and Gria.”

  I nod at the girls clinging to one another at the opposite wall.

  Lanee sits beside me and wraps her arm around my back. We travel in silence. Seconds seem like hours. The odour of unwashed bodies makes me retch a few times.

  “Who are those people who captured me?” I ask.

  “Hunters,” Lanee says as her voice trembles. “They’re going to sell us to wealthy, high-born people.”

  “Sell?” My heart stops beating.

 

 

 


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