by Anna Hackett
“Come on,” Rory leaned back in her chair. “We all have our own alien gladiator hunks, but if you think that we all haven’t wondered about that hard-bodied man, you’re crazy.”
Harper, sitting next to Sam on the couch, rolled her eyes. “Ignore her.” Harper scooped Finley off the floor and started bouncing him on her knee.
“No, don’t,” Mia said. “I’ve wondered.” The small woman got a faraway look in her eye. “He’s always so…controlled.”
Madeline crossed her legs. “I want to know too. I’ve wondered what happens when a man like Galen loses all that control.”
Sam blinked, her throat tightening. She’d missed this. She missed having friends who cared, and poked and prodded.
She set her drink down on the table. “It’s good.”
“Good.” Rory looked insulted. “That’s it?”
“Really good.” Sam thought of touching Galen, his big body moving over hers. “It’s beyond anything you can imagine.” She still felt a sweet ache between her legs.
The women giggled, and Rory fell back in her chair. “I think I just had a mini orgasm.”
“Rory.” Harper covered Finley’s ears. The baby chuckled.
“He’s a super alien baby, but he has no idea what I’m talking about yet.” Rory grabbed her son, nuzzling him.
“Things are kind of intense,” Sam said. “For now, I’m focused on taking down the Thraxians.”
“And getting as much hot sex as you can.” Rory winked and then looked down at her son. “Don’t listen to mama, baby boy.”
There was more laughter.
A House of Galen worker entered the room with a swish of skirts. “Mistress Samantha, the imperator has returned, and asks that you join him.”
“I bet,” Rory said.
But Sam felt tension creep in. She exchanged a glance with Harper and stood. “Regan, I liked the rica. Thanks. I’ll see you all later.”
She headed out and turned in the direction of Galen’s office. When she reached the doorway, she saw him at his desk, elbows resting on the surface. There was a dark and heavy vibe filling the room.
“Galen?”
He looked up, and one look at his face made her stomach drop. “It didn’t go well.”
“It didn’t go well.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I have my allies, like the House of Rone and the House of Zeringei, and a few others. But in order to guarantee success, I need all the houses to get on board with this fight.”
She moved closer. “They don’t see the implant as a big problem?”
“Like I’ve told you, there’s a long history of the houses minding their own business. And some are arrogant enough to believe the Thraxians aren’t a threat.”
Sam dropped into the chair across from his desk. “That’s why you’ve rescued prisoners under the radar.”
He nodded. “It was easier than causing outright conflict with the other houses. Some of the other imperators are just arrogant fools, and others believe they are too powerful. The rest just don’t want to believe.”
“So where does that leave us?”
His head snapped up, his face determined. “We fight. I got word from Zhim when I returned that Zaabha has landed.”
Sam’s chest locked. “Where?”
“In the Forsaken Barrens, north of the city. It hasn’t moved for several hours.”
Blood roared in her ears. “It’s a trap.”
“Yes, but I don’t give a drak, Sam. I’ll pull my people and my allies together. Rillian has promised soldiers as well. We’ll likely still be outnumbered, and we’ll be in their terrain, but nothing will stop us. We’ll go in and destroy the implant research, we rescue the prisoners, and then burn Zaabha to the ground.”
She knew this was going to be beyond dangerous. She was well aware that Galen had some of the best fighters on the planet, but the Thraxians had numbers. They had prisoners, and fighters with implants that made them willing to follow every order.
To kill without hesitation.
Sam pressed her hands to her thighs, her nails digging through her trousers. There was a part of her that didn’t want to see the Zaabha Arena again, but she couldn’t let that part take over. All her life, she’d always stood up for what she believed in.
Galen pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve learned a lot about teamwork and determination from having stubborn, resilient humans under my roof. I’ve learned that the odds don’t always predict who’ll win the day.”
She smiled, but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes.
He sat back in his chair, like a king on his throne. “I don’t want you on the mission.”
Sam’s stomach revolted. She watched his hands curl into fists on the desktop.
“But I know you want to go,” he said, before she could protest. “I know you’ll need to go, and that you deserve to be a part of ending this.”
Her chest loosened. “Thank you.”
“I also know that you’re strong enough to bring the Thraxians to their knees. It will be my honor to fight beside you.”
Dios, he gutted her. Sam stood and circled the desk. She’d never in all her life met a man like Galen. A man of conviction, one who was a pillar of self-confidence, and wasn’t afraid to show how much he respected her.
She cupped Galen’s rugged face and leaned down to kiss him.
Instantly, his mouth moved against hers, deepening the kiss. He yanked her into his lap. She slid her hands into his hair, her tongue tangling with his.
“Now,” he said. “I need you now.” His hands went to her trousers, flicking them open.
“Someone might come in.”
He pushed her trousers down, and she lifted her hips to help him.
“I don’t care.”
A second later, her trousers were gone, and he opened his own. Sam didn’t care, either. Desire ignited like fire in her blood. She straddled him and then he thrust inside her.
There. She moaned. So good.
Sam lifted her hips and started riding him. Their gazes locked, their lips just a whisper apart.
“You will not get hurt,” he said with a growl.
“You aren’t allowed to get hurt, either.”
His hands clenched on her hips driving her up and down. “You are so drakking beautiful, Sam.”
She moved faster, and soon, there were no thoughts of anything—only the connection between them and the pleasure crashing over them.
Galen strode into Varus’ stables, Sam and his gladiators beside him. It was early, and a hush still lay over Kor Magna.
“Galen.” The big man strode forward to meet them, his face serious. The former gladiator was huge, with a grizzled face and a shaved head.
“Varus,” Galen greeted him.
A young girl trotted beside Varus. The teen, Duna, was one of Varus’ best desert guides.
“I hear you’re going to war,” Varus said.
Galen gave a nod. “As I said in my message, we need tarnids. Zaabha is in the Forsaken Barrens.”
“Horrible place.” Duna’s nose wrinkled.
“Zaabha is a drakking abomination,” Varus spat. “The Thraxians and their sand-sucking allies the Srinar, as well.” He turned to Duna. “Have the team bring the beasts.”
“I’ll have payment delivered to you,” Galen said.
The man shook his head. “No. Consider this my contribution to the fight.”
Galen nodded, clasping hands with the former gladiator in a warrior’s hold. “Thank you.”
Galen saw Varus’ gaze shift past him, and knew the man was looking at Sam. Galen couldn’t stop himself reaching for her and sliding an arm around her waist.
He’d made love to her that morning—hard and rough. They’d torn up the sheets, desperate for each other. But despite gorging himself on her, he felt desire spike.
Varus studied her, his bushy eyebrows rising. “So, you’re Galen’s latest rescue.”
“Actually, she rescued me,” Galen said.
“We
rescued each other,” Sam said.
Galen smiled. “Sam, this is Varus. Varus, Sam Santos.”
“Hello.” She held out a hand and Varus shook it.
“You have a good grip.” He studied her. “I can tell you’re a fighter. And if you’re half as tenacious as the other Earth women, you’re a good match for the best man I know.”
Sam’s lips twitched. “Thank you.”
Varus looked at Galen. “You’re letting her fight?”
Galen smiled wryly. “You probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“He doesn’t let me do anything,” Sam said. “Besides, this is my fight too.”
“Sam was the Champion of Zaabha, Varus.”
The big man’s eyes went wide. “Then not just a fighter, and even more tenacious than all those Earth women put together. Good luck to you both.”
“We’ll take it,” Galen said.
“I can lead you into the Forsaken Barrens,” Duna said, chin jutting.
Galen shook his head. “We know where we’re going, but thank you.” He didn’t want the young girl anywhere near Zaabha.
She looked like she was going to complain, but Varus gripped her slim shoulder and squeezed.
It wasn’t long before they were riding out into the desert. Galen was at the lead, riding one of the six-legged tarnids. Sam rode beside him, and his gladiators were close behind. Rillian’s soldiers were flying in on his ship once Galen’s team arrived at Zaabha.
Nearby, House of Rone and House of Zeringei gladiators, as well as Vek, were jogging in perfect rhythm. The tarnids didn’t particularly like the cyborgs, or the beast-like Zeringei and Vek riding them.
Galen’s gaze was drawn back to Sam. She looked like a warrior queen, seated like she’d ridden a tarnid a hundred times before.
She was going back to the place of her nightmares. Her prison. He so desperately wanted to protect her from it.
Whatever happened, Galen would ensure her safety and survival.
Raiden came up beside him on a tarnid with dark-green scales. His beast nudged Galen’s.
“Are you ready to fight?” Galen asked.
“Yes.” Raiden’s eyes flashed. “I’m more than ready.”
“Raiden, whatever happens, you protect Sam.”
His friend, the man who was his family, looked at him. “You know I will.”
“Raiden—” Galen couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. This man was his closest friend, his family, his charge, his son.
Raiden reached out and clasped Galen’s arm. “I know.”
The hours passed, the suns beating down on them. Sweat trickled in a continuous slide down Galen’s back, but he ignored it.
Suddenly, Sam called out. “Galen!”
She pointed ahead, and he followed her gaze. In the distance, the imposing shape of Zaabha sat, unmoving, resting on the sand.
Galen scowled. The hellhole crouched on the sand like some ugly, evil beast.
Resolve filled him. The Thraxians had hurt too many people and destroyed too many lives. It wasn’t just the humans who’d had their lives shattered. There were far too many to count.
Today, that ended.
Chapter Thirteen
It was eerie stepping back into the arena. Walking willingly back into her own personal hell and torture chamber.
Sam looked around the place where she had fought to hold on to herself.
It was empty. Silent. The stands were bare, and below, the cell doors stood open. Abandoned.
“What the drak?” Thorin’s deep voice.
“There’s no one here.” Raiden stood with his hands on his hips, frowning.
Beside Sam, Galen turned in a slow circle, his face considering. “They’re here, somewhere.”
“They lured us here for a reason,” Sam said.
“We need to check the labs.” Galen nodded at Magnus.
The cyborg moved toward a doorway heading down into the tunnels and his cyborgs followed, breaking into a jog.
“They won’t find anything.” Sam’s heart was a steady beat in her ears.
“We’ll find them.” Galen looked at her. “Where do you think they went?”
She shook her head. She didn’t know.
Galen lifted a small, metallic communicator. “Zhim? Are you picking us up?”
Scratchy static came through. Then Zhim’s voice. “Connection…not good.”
“I need you and Ryan to search the system. Zaabha is empty. The Thraxians must have a base or something nearby.”
“Will…see what…”
“Say again?”
“Scientist…signal strong. Need to…”
Suddenly, the ground started to vibrate. Galen cursed.
“What the hell?” Harper called out, lifting both her swords. From just behind her, Vek growled.
The gladiators all pulled in closer. Raiden moved in behind Harper. Saff and Blaine moved to stand back to back. Nero and Lore spread their feet, weapons raised. Everyone fought to keep their balance.
Ahead, Sam watched as rectangular holes opened up in the arena floor, sand pouring through.
“Run!” Galen barked.
Sam sprinted forward, breaking away toward the stands. But as she watched, the stands in front of her started to tilt and topple over.
Just a few meters away, Harper leaped over a hole. With a flap of his red cloak, Raiden jumped right behind her.
Galen moved up beside Sam, grabbing her hand. A hole opened in front of them and together, they leaped over it.
But instantly, another cavity opened up directly below Sam. Her foot hit open space.
Shit. She yanked her hand from Galen’s. She tried to grab onto the edge of the hole, but her hand slipped on the sand. She tumbled into the blackness.
“Sam!” Galen shouted.
Below, all she could see was darkness.
She heard shouts and the sound of others falling. Sand streamed past her.
Before she knew it, she hit the ground, pain jarring through her body. Trying to catch her breath, she pressed her face to the rocky ground. Nearby, she heard other bodies smacking into the ground. She groaned, pushing up on her hands and knees.
She looked up, and for a fleeting second, she thought she saw jagged, rock walls, with burning torches attached to them.
Then she blinked and felt a burst of pain in her head.
Everything went black, and when she opened her eyes, everything inside her went still.
Beneath her were cool sheets and a soft bunk. She was in her bed on Fortuna Station. Confusion swept through her. She blinked again. It wasn’t right, she was… She was somewhere else just before, doing…something.
Her head hurt and she reached up to rub her temple. She had the overwhelming sensation that she was forgetting something. Something important.
“Captain Santos, you have five minutes until your duty shift starts,” the comp beside her bed intoned.
With a curse, she slid out of bed, reaching for her clothes. Everything in her quarters was as it always was—fairly neat and tidy except for yesterday’s clothes tossed over a chair. She pulled on her uniform, fingering the Fortuna Station logo stitched on her chest, and wondered why it felt wrong.
Feeling uneasy, she touched the door control and headed into the corridor. A large bank of long windows gave a fantastic view of Jupiter below.
The click of boots. She turned and saw Blaine striding toward her. Her head throbbed painfully again.
“Hey, Captain.” He fell into step beside her. “I wanted to go over tomorrow’s roster with you.”
“Sure. Blaine, did anything unusual happen last night?”
The big man frowned. “No. Everything was normal. Why?”
She shook her head. “I keep feeling like I’m forgetting something.”
“Only thing different is that I’ve had a headache from hell this morning,” he said.
She paused, discomfited. “Me too.”
All of a sudden, there was a flash of ligh
t through the windows. Sam looked up and watched a small ship whizz past the station. Then another. And another.
“Madre de Dios?” she whispered.
Sirens began to wail, and the wall beside them started to glow a deep orange. She and Blaine both whipped up their laser weapons. A second later, the wall collapsed inward, and a being like something out of a nightmare stepped through.
Alien. A demon-like alien that was huge, with cracked, dark skin and orange veins glowing beneath, a set of horns, and glowing eyes.
Suddenly, Sam heard screams echoing through the station. Blaine started shouting.
Sam just stared, horror and fear flooding her.
Thraxians.
Thraxians? Why did she know that name?
She saw Blaine stride forward, firing his weapon and engaging the aliens.
The aliens laughed—a deep, horrifying sound.
Zaabha.
Carthago.
House of Galen.
Galen.
Sam felt another burst of pain and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to hold onto that thought.
“Sam, help me fight!” Blaine yelled.
Galen. Rugged face and eye patch. Black cloak and muscled body. Her Galen.
More pain, like her head was going to explode. When Sam opened her eyes again, Fortuna Station was gone.
Her chest hitched. She was in some huge, cavernous space carved from rock. Ahead lay the entrance to what looked like a maze, with twisting, open tunnels spread as far as she could see. The only light came from the burning torches attached to the walls.
All around her, Galen’s gladiators were on their knees, staring sightlessly ahead.
She scrambled onto her feet. Fuck. It was some sort of mind-interfering tech. Harper was kneeling closest to Sam, and Sam quickly ran over to the woman.
“Harper.” She gripped the woman’s shoulder and shook her. “Harper! Snap out of it.”
Harper blinked and sucked in a breath. “Sam?”
“You okay?”
“We were on Fortuna?” She looked around, confused. “Aliens were attacking.”
“We’re on Carthago, Harper. Do you remember?”
The woman blinked again. “Carthago.” Then a fierce look crossed her face. “Raiden.” She leaped up. “Where’s Raiden?”