Copyright © 2012 Seraphina Donavan
This material may not be duplicated or distributed to others
without express permission of the author. E-books are nontransferable
and cannot be sold, shared or given away, as those actions are copyright
infringement. This book is a work of fiction and any similarity to persons
living or dead, or events real or fictional, is purely coincidental.
Dedicated to my wonderful friends who support me and make fun of me for being a “porn star”. Thanks for always keeping it real.
Chapter One
Wren Marlowe placed the basket of freshly rolled silverware onto the shelf by the door directly below the vinyl coated menus she had wiped down. A total of five customers had wandered into the old truck stop that night, leaving her with a whopping fourteen dollars in her pocket in tips. At least the small trailer that she lived in behind the diner was rent free. Grimly, she took the bottle of spray cleaner and a towel and began to clean the ancient vinyl booths, cracks and all. She couldn’t explain the restlessness that plagued her, but it was there nonetheless. There was an impending sense of doom, but she knew better than to speak of it. She had learned the hard way to keep her thoughts, her predictions, to herself.
As Wren cleaned the booths along the front wall of the diner, she could look out onto the parking lot through the grimy windows. He appeared out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing but an empty parking lot and a deserted stretch of highway. The next, he was striding across the pavement, his long limbs eating up the distance. His stride was confident, purposeful, and aggressive. Predatory, she thought. In spite of that, she found herself watching him, appreciating the powerful play of muscles beneath his clothes. Her breath hitched in her chest and her heart raced, blood rushing through her veins.
As he approached, the blinking neon sign that announced their 24 hour service cast harsh shadows over his face. It was both beautiful and frightening. Hard, chiseled features and slashing dark brows were offset by lips that curved sensually. Images assailed her, flitting through her mind, both shocking and erotic. She could see them clearly, his body covering hers, her thighs parting to welcome him. She could almost feel the weight of him on top of her, the exquisite fullness of his cock moving inside her. Other images came, a flood of them, mirroring the rush of warmth, of liquid heat that now flooded her thighs. Her knees quaked, and her breathing was ragged.
When he entered the room, he filled the space. His presence was overwhelming, powerful and frightening. She noted that his hair was damp, though it had not begun to rain yet. They were miles from anywhere, and there were no vehicles nearby. She felt it then, a deep certainty that blossomed within her. He was not what he appeared. Instantly and with little provocation, she was intensely afraid of him. She was also terrified of her response to him, of the spark of lust that had erupted into wildfire within her. No man had ever affected her so, and he had done so without even touching her. Instinctively, she backed away.
“Wren Marlowe,” he said in a deep, slightly gruff voice, “You must come with me.” His voice caressed her skin, warm and rough, it raised goose bumps on her flesh. Her nipples puckered, hardening inside the padded cups of her bra. Desperate to hold onto some semblance of good sense, she seized the most disturbing piece of information from his short greeting. He knew her name.
“No,” she replied, “I mustn’t.” He might be beautiful and his body might make her mouth water, but she didn’t know him from Adam. She wasn’t going anywhere with him.
The sensual line of his lips firmed and he stepped toward her. His movements were slow and deliberate, much like someone approaching a strange and frightened animal. Without any real weapon and his large body blocking her only escape route, Wren dropped the dirty towel to the floor, and hurled the bottle of spray cleaner still clutched in her hand. She aimed it directly for his head. He ducked to the side, and it glanced off his shoulder. It slowed him down not at all and he continued moving toward her, his face a grim mask of determination.
Wren braced herself, clenching her fists tightly at her sides. She didn’t know what his intentions were, but she wasn’t going to give in without a fight. He reached for her, and she lashed out, knocking his hand away. She lunged to the right, squeezing past him. He spun quickly, grabbing her from behind. His powerful arms closed around her upper body, pinioning her arms to her sides. The lush curves of her behind rested in the cradle of his hips, and she could feel the hard ridge of his aroused cock. She fought the urge to press back against him, to feel his hardness sliding against her flesh. Her body might be out of her control, she thought, but her mind wasn’t. She renewed her struggles, but in the steely band of his arms, they were futile.
In spite of the strength of his hold, he wasn’t hurting her. Even in her fear, she acknowledged that. Against her ear, he said, “I will not harm you, Wren Marlow, but you must come with me now.”
Wren didn’t respond. Her eyes were drawn to the door of the café which had just opened. Three men walked inside, their hands covered in leather gloves and the dark hoods of their sweatshirts pulled up, casting dark shadows over their faces. Dread filled her, spreading icy tentacles through her body. The man in the center reached up, pushing back his hood, and what he revealed elicited a scream of pure terror from her. She knew those faces. They had haunted her dreams for her entire life.
Rather than flesh, he was covered in scales, ranging in shades of gray and black. The structure of his face was vaguely feline, with a wide forehead, narrow chin, and broad, high cheekbones. His eyes were red, with elongated black pupils, shielded by nictating lenses. Those strange eyes slashed sharply upwards at the end, giving the appearance that his face was twisted in a macabre grin. He opened his small mouth, emitting a wet hiss and revealing double rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
“She is ours, Kyr,” he rasped.
The man holding her didn’t respond. He simply clasped her tighter against him, and pressed his thumb against an intricate emblem on the leather cuff at his wrist. Blackness swirled about them, and the world simply fell away. Wren felt as if she were spiraling into nothingness. She tried to scream, but no sound emerged from her throat as she was sucked into the void.
Had he been alone, Kyr would have faced the Aldacyians. His need for violence, to release the frustration that had plagued him had been at war with his higher intellect. He knew that the three Aldacyian trackers were only the first wave. More would come. His object wasn’t to defeat them, but to protect the woman. With that in mind, he had opted for transport.
Within moments of activating the transport command, they were aboard the small ship that had brought him to her world. Kyr placed her unconscious form on one of the narrow berths that lined the main cabin. His eyes traveled over her body, mapping the generous curves of her breasts and hips, the length of her legs. Her thoughts had been clear to him the moment he had gotten close to her. The visions she’d had of their bodies joined had created a firestorm of lust in him. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward, his callused fingers tracing the delicate contours of her face, before tangling in the rich, auburn curls that tumbled over her shoulders. She sighed, and his mouth closed over hers, testing the softness of her full lips, savoring the sweet taste of her. Reluctantly, he pulled back, forcing himself to focus on the tasks at hand. He had a ship to pilot, and she would sleep for a bit longer, an after effect of demolecurization.
While teleportation was something he had grown accustomed to during his years as a Sentinel, he could remember the physical misery that had followed it the first time. She would be nauseous and her head would ache. There was no time to see to her, however. Though the ship was veiled, it would not take long for the Aldacyians to locate th
em. With that thought in mind, he moved to the command center and began the ignition sequence. There was a low hum as the engines started. Within seconds, the ship was rocketing towards the surface of the small lake where he had concealed it. He needed to reach the safety of the outer quadrant and the allies of the Core. The coordinates were entered into the ship’s navigation system and it sped off through the darkness at a speed that rendered it invisible to the naked eye.
He turned back to the small cabin where she slept on, his dark eyes traveling the length of her sweetly curved body. If the Aldacyians were to obtain Wren Marlow they would kill her. It would be a death sentence for them both.
Chapter Two
Wren awoke slowly. Her head was pounding and her stomach rebelled. She squinted into the blue tinted light. Though it was dim, it still seared her sensitive eyes and the contents of her stomach threatened to reappear. She swallowed convulsively, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Cautiously, she rose to a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. “Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore,” she whispered.
The room was stark white, with strips of recessed light that glowed faintly blue. She was resting on a narrow bench, again white. It was upholstered in something that reminded her of leather but wasn’t quite. It was much softer and remained cool to the touch. Everything in the room was streamlined and functional, but appeared totally alien to her. It was also frigidly cold. There was a strange, shimmering blanket folded across her legs, providing some warmth. In spite of that, she could see her breath. Beneath the thin fabric of her work shirt, her nipples had pebbled in response to the chilly temperature. She was reaching for the blanket, to pull it completely over her, when she became aware of movement. She looked up into the startlingly masculine and strangely beautiful face of her captor.
His tall, imposing frame filled the doorway. He wore the same dark pants that he had before, though the simple white shirt was now topped with a leather jacket that fitted his broad shoulders and chest to perfection. There was an unfamiliar insignia on the right side of his chest, and silver stripes at his shoulder. The pants were tight, molding to his lean hips and powerful thighs. A leather belt was slung low over his hips, containing a holster and a strange looking gun. Another weapon was strapped to his right thigh. The pants were tucked into tall, suede like boots with soft soles. They were silent as he crossed the metal grates that composed the floor. He retrieved a small bottle from a cabinet concealed in the wall, and extended it to her.
“It will help,” he said.
“Who are you and why am I here?” she demanded, making no move to accept the offered beverage.
“I am Kyr Nivarre, Rank 4, Core Sentinel. My mission was to retrieve you from Earth and prevent you from falling into Aldacyian hands.” It was technically the truth. There were details that he was leaving out. If he told her that she was destined to be with him, that she had been genetically engineered to be his perfect mate, he didn’t imagine that she would respond well.
“The Aldacyians… those were the creatures that came to the café?” At his nod, she continued, “What kind of ship is this?”
“It is an Ursa shuttle, a small craft that has been modified to allow for longer journeys through space.”
“Space, as in outer? As in aliens?” she asked, her voice rising with slight hysteria. Had she truly lost her mind, she wondered? All those years of premonitions and visions with no one believing her had left its mark. Her greatest fear was that all that people who said she was crazy were right. Alien abduction and space travel seemed to be a decent harbinger of a psychotic break.
“I come from Region DF 745 in the Artynian Galaxy. It has been a member of the Core 7 Alliance since its formation nearly two hundred years ago, following the Intergalactic War.”
She swallowed. “Intergalactic war. You are from another planet.” She was having hot, dirty fantasies about E.T. Oh, god, she thought, and dropped her head onto her drawn up knees. She couldn’t cope with what was happening. She felt like her mind was whirling in a billion directions.
“I know you are upset, Wren Marlowe, but know that I mean you no harm. Your safety is my primary objective.”
She felt dizzy. She wanted to call him a liar, to say that she was the victim of an elaborate prank. The simple fact was, she could not deny what her eyes had seen, what she had seen time and again over the years, and there was no one who would go to such lengths to fool her. There would have been no purpose in it. “You kidnapped me to save me from being kidnapped?”
There was anger in her, and confusion, as well. That bothered him. He attempted to explain, “I have not kidnapped you. I have rescued you. You are not a prisoner.”
“You took me out of my place of employment, put me on a ship and took me into outer space. I have no way to get home and I am totally at your mercy. If that isn’t kidnapping, what is?”
“The Aldacyians are a brutal race, Wren Marlowe. They do not treat their captives well, and most do not survive. I cannot return you to Earth, as they now have your location. They would not stop pursuing you. You would be hunted, and eventually, you would be caught. It is imperative that you not fall into their hands.”
She wanted to be kept out of Aldacyian hands too. Remembering their frightful appearance, she shuddered. It was not the first time she had seen them. They had kept to the shadows mostly, but from time to time, over the years, she had seen them watching her, stalking her. Sitting up, she met his gaze, “Why do they want me?”
He watched her shiver, his gaze drawn immediately to the soft globes of her breasts and the puckered nipples that strained against her clothing. He forced himself to look away, to focus instead on what she had asked. It was a simple question, one that he had contemplated for himself.
With complete honesty, he said, “I cannot answer that question, Wren Marlowe. My superiors have not given me that information.”
“Wren,” she said. “You don’t have to use my first and last name every time you address me.” She had felt his eyes on her breasts and was keenly aware of his interest. It only heightened her earlier reaction to him. Against her will, she thought of his strong, powerful thighs as he had crossed the parking lot. In that moment, she wanted to wrap her legs around him and feel his body sliding against hers. She didn’t care where he was from.
“Wren,” he acquiesced. Again, he held out the bottle to her, “This will ease your stomach and your headache.”
“Are you human?”
He was and he wasn’t. It was a difficult question to answer, and undoubtedly, the answers would only distress her more. In spite of that, he was unable to lie to her. “I am a hybrid. I was bred specifically to be able to complete missions on Earth without alerting natives of your planet to our existence. My body is human and works much the same as yours does.” He did not include that she was a hybrid, as well. She had been too young when taken from the Core 7 facility to have any understanding of how unique she was.
Wren looked at him again. She didn’t fully understand what he meant by hybrid. He looked like a man, albeit an exceptional one. His body was lean and powerful, his face a study of masculine perfection. She was attracted to him, regardless of what he was. Forcing those thoughts aside, she said, “What sort of missions on Earth? Why would you need to be there in secret?”
“There are many galaxies, Wren, inhabited by many species. Some would view the humans of Earth as their prey, just as the Aldacyians do. The Core 7 Alliance is a governing body, ruling many of these galaxies and preventing intergalactic difficulties. At this time, with the limited technology of Earth and the aggressive tendencies of the human race, it is not possible to allow them to be fully aware of our existence, but it is still our duty to protect them.”
“So what happens now?”
He would keep her safe, by whatever means necessary, and he would gain her acceptance of him. “We are on course for Quadrant Four, where we will link with another ship and more of the Sentinel Guards.
In the measurement of time used on Earth, we will reach it in about four days.”
Four days, trapped in a small ship with a gorgeous man. No, she corrected mentally, a gorgeous hybrid. Her eyes traveled over him, from the broad shoulders and massive chest, lean waist and hips. The bulge of his sex was impossible to miss. In the tightly fitted pants he wore, he was both impressive and intimidating. She could feel the tell-tale dampness between her thighs. It was going to be a long four days.
Kyr could feel her eyes on him. With his heightened sense of smell, he was also aware of her response to him. It only intensified his need of her. He wanted to join their bodies. He wanted to sink into the warmth and heat of her. “There are clothes for you in the locker, and the lavatory is through that doorway. The cabin temperature will be cool as I have diverted all the extra energy to the engines for speed.”
Wren nodded and rose from the small berth. As she did, she swayed on knees that were still weak. She would have fallen had he not caught her. His arms closed about her again, this time crushing her full breasts against his chest. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into the softness of her belly. It was a delicious feeling. Her body clenched in anticipation, and without conscious thought, she pressed closer, rocking against him slightly. Images assailed her again. She could see him rising above her, sinking the hard length of his cock into her wet sheath. The image shifted and he was behind her, taking her wildly, claiming her. Over and over again, flashes of erotic tableaux filled her mind, making her ache for him.
The fantasies running through her mind were his. He recognized them as she broadcast them back to him, along with her desire. He could hear and feel her body calling out to him, begging for the relief that he could give her. When she moved against him, molding her body to his, he had to fight back the urge to simply take her. He knew she would be wet and eager, but he wanted more for her, for them both, than a hurried fuck. He cupped her head in his large hands and claimed her mouth. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue exploring the sensual curves. With lips, teeth and tongue, he played over her mouth, dipping inside it, swirling his tongue against hers, imitating the far more intimate invasion that would soon follow. He reveled in the sweet taste of her, the yield of her body against his. When he felt her arms curve around him, clasping about his waist, he allowed his hands to roam freely over her. He traced the slope of her shoulder, the delicate arc of her collar bone. His hands grazed the curves of her breasts, and her back arched. It was an invitation that he greedily accepted. The generous globes swelled into his hands, filling his palms, her impudent nipples raking against him, begging for his touch. His cock, already hard, pulsed with anticipation. He wanted to strip her clothes from her, and to feel her naked flesh beneath him.
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