by Alix Labelle
“You do not belong on the throne. If not for my grandfather abdicating, my father would have been king. Now it is my turn. I am not weak like my father. I will fight for my rightful place.”
“You know that your father did not want to rule Cartonia, nor did he think you would be a good ruler.”
“He was wrong. I would make a very good king. You are merely a prince.”
“I am only a prince because my grandfather honored yours and vowed never to call himself king. If I wanted the title of king, I could take it. I am honoring my father and my grandfather before him by not doing so. You do not want to fight me, cousin.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Do not do this,” Odin said. “You will regret it if you do.”
“I will never regret fighting for the throne on which I belong.”
Odin rose and brandished his sword at shoulder height. His golden blade glinted in the sunlight coming through the open window. Stepping down from the platform on which the thrones sat, Odin stood straight and tall.
Without another word, he strode over to Fenrir. Odin stood several inches higher than Fenrir and was many pounds heavier, and Jane had no doubt that he could easily overwhelm his cousin. Finally, they stood face to face, their swords raised, each waiting for the other to begin the fight.
This would not end well, Jane decided. One or the other would be dead, and the survivor would sit on the throne to gloat. Tyr stood near Fenrir, and many other soldiers waited nearby for their orders.
“Why would you do this after I gave you a castle and all of its furnishings and servants?” Odin asked.
“I do not need a consolation prize.”
Fenrir raised his sword and jabbed it at Odin, who skillfully dodged the sharply honed blade. Fenrir had acted the aggressor, but Odin did nothing to retaliate.
“I do not want to hurt you, cousin,” Odin said.
“Then give up the throne.”
“Never. Put down your weapon.”
“Never,” Fenrir said mockingly.
Odin took a backhanded swipe at Fenrir and cut his jumpsuit just above the abdomen. Blood seeped onto the bronze material. Fenrir lunged at Odin again, and Tyr drew his weapon, as well.
His sword already drawn, Hermo’our bolted from hiding and rushed Tyr.
“You will not take the throne from my father!” he cried as he lashed out at his friend.
Their swords clanked together as Tyr blocked a blow by Hermo’our. The weapons gnashed together as Tyr tried to twist the sword from Hermo’our’s hand. But Hermo’our held fast to his weapon.
Five soldiers rushed into the room from the hallway, but ten soldiers entered from behind the thrones. The melee began in earnest as the men fought for the monarchy.
Chapter 9
Jane could scarcely believe her eyes. It was like being in a Medieval movie set in the future. Swords clanged, and men cried out if they were injured or just angry.
Then a male scream pierced the air. She stepped out of hiding for a better view of what had happened. Holding his profusely bleeding right arm, Odin knelt on the floor. On the ground before him lay his hand and part of his arm as well as his sword. Looming over Odin, Fenrir raised his sword and pointed it down at Odin’s back.
“You will die!” Hermo’our shouted.
“No!” Jane screamed as she ran from her concealment.
Hermo’our drove his sword into Fenrir, who screamed in pain and dropped to the floor. A pool of blood grew around him. Tyr caught Jane as she passed and spun her into his grasp so quickly that she didn’t even realize what had happened at first. Cold, sharp metal pressed against her neck.
“Enough!” Tyr shouted next to her ear.
Everyone stopped and stared at him in shock.
“Go!” he ordered.
All of his soldiers who were alive left the room in an instant.
“Free her, Tyr,” Hermo’our insisted. “Take your uncle and leave, and we will let you go.”
“Odin has not said as much.”
“We will,” Odin agreed.
“If Hermo’our wants this female, he must take her from me,” Tyr said. “I offered her to him once, but she said she did not want him. I will not offer again. Now he must fight me and earn her.”
“Don’t do this,” Hermo’our pleaded. “I need her. Please, Tyr. We’ve been friends for a long time. Please, let her go.”
“Our friendship ended when you deceived me. You told me that you do not want her, just like she told me that she did not want you. But I know that was a lie. I saw you mating in the sitting room. You cannot deny it.”
Now Jane knew what the noise was that she heard. It was Tyr closing the door.
“I won’t deny it. Just let her go.”
“You may have her if you can stop me before I slit her throat. This is a long, sharp sword. It might cut through her neck and sever her head.”
Jane gasped at the thought. He wanted to behead her!
Then Hermo’our dropped his sword. It clattered to the floor. What was he doing? He was giving up when she needed him most. Hermo’our took a step toward Tyr—then another and another, slowly until he reached them.
“I will not fight you,” Hermo’our said. He grabbed Tyr’s arm and jerked it toward himself. “Jane, drop!”
Jane dropped to her stomach a moment before the sword moved again. She looked up and saw that now Hermo’our had the weapon, and he thrust it into Tyr’s abdomen with an upward motion. Tyr fell to the floor before her, his own sword piercing his body, his eyes glazed in death.
Scrambling to her feet, Jane flew into Hermo’our’s arms and hugged him tightly.
“Oh, God, Hermie,” she said, still panicked, “thank you. You saved my life. You’re my hero.”
“I love you, Jane,” he said. “I’m just glad that Mom told me what love is, or I wouldn’t have known. We need to mate again without it being in secret.”
“I love you, too, Hermie. But before we can be together, we need to help your father. I believe that you have effectively ruined any possible coup today. Tyr is probably dead, and Fenrir is likely headed the same direction.”
Hermo’our draped his arm around her neck and led her to his father, who lay unconscious on the floor.
***
Jane stood on the balcony with Hermo’our, Odin and Melanie and gazed down at the crowd beneath them. Then Odin spoke words that Jane never thought she would hear.
“People of Cartonia,” Odin said, “since I am no longer able to do everything a reigning prince must do, I wish to abdicate the throne. Forevermore my son, my hero, the rightful heir to the throne will be King Hermo’our and his mate will be Queen Jane. No longer will we bow to Fenrir and his ascendants. We and our descendents claim the throne for all eternity.”
THE END
Saved by the Alien Lord
Kahara Lords
Book 3
(Can be read as a standalone book)
By: Lindsay Blanc
Saved by the Alien Lord
Chapter One
Coel pressed his body forward, his large hands squeezing the heavy wheel. His bushy brows furrowed as he peered at the monitor in front of him. His tiny space craft inched across the screen but he could see it in the distance.
The air grew hot around him, a halo of burning oxygen. He pursed his lips, flexing one arm to release another. His left hand went right for the joy stick; his fingers wrapped around it. A grunt slid out of his throat as he felt the pressure of a thousand suns pushing down on him.
His heart pounded against his chest and a hot, earsplitting whine cut through the air. A hysterical laugh leapt out of his mouth because right in the distance, on the edge of the monitor sat the first real mass of land he had seen in months.
No sooner had he reveled in this sight than he feel the pull. The craft lurched from under him, dragging him straight down. A sinking feeling gripped his gut, wrenching it out through his legs.
His strong hands began to tremble, t
he wheel violently shaking back and forth within his grip. He had to get a hold of it, and quick.
He flipped a switch, cutting the exhaust and the engine before lifting the craft out of free fall. Dry air cut at his nostrils. The screech of the craft begged for mercy as the plummet turned into a dive
Dust rose all around, the space craft breaking apart piece by piece to reveal the new planet—a place he had only ever studied every once and a while and from afar. Earth, a faint whisper that had suddenly become the face of the future.
***
Sarah shuffled through the thick woods, her boot-clad feet slamming one step in front of the other. She hadn’t had a sip to drink or a bite to eat in over four hours, but she couldn’t stop now.
Her heart thudded in her chest, her olive skin slick with sweat, her eyes red and swollen with tears. She had been hiking for the better part of the day and still could not figure out if she was running towards something or away from it. Her long, auburn hair stuck to the back of her neck and her shoulders. She reached up to push it out of her face, but as her arm fell back onto her side. A tree toppled; the ground shook.
A gasp slipped from between her plump lips. She stopped. A cloud of dust and dirt puffed into the air before her, but she just stupidly stared, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She clenched her fist and her jaw and summoned from within her the very thing that ripped her apart from herself and everyone else. She lifted the tree without touching it, the crack of wood breaking and new roots forming filling the air. It stood tall and strong as if nothing had happened.
Sarah turned back around and forged on through the forest. Her legs burnt from the strain and the incline only got worse but she kept up with it. Weeds sprouted from the slick mud. The energy fall out of her like water out of a glass.
She felt herself arrive. With one glance up, she knew this is how she wanted to spend the rest of her days. A light clearing in the forest emerged, just large enough for a tent, but not large enough to draw attention. A University had set up a preservation center just two miles east and she didn’t want them to find her on accident. She didn’t want to be drawn into their plans, or questioned about her presence.
She just wanted to be alone.
***
Coel had been so preoccupied with his arrangements that he hadn’t eaten since the landing. He needed nutrients and fast. All that he had read about planet Earth had sent him on a wild hunt for something called a deer. A small calculation told him the animal would last him four days. He had already engineered his own fridge from rewiring some of the circuits in his old ship.
He crouched behind a tree, a homemade bow and arrow resting on his lap. He could hear it from at least five hundred feet away. It trotted through the woods, completely unsuspecting.
He shot up and pointed the weapon all in one movement. His finger flexed, the arrow ready to be released, but then—
His breath stopped halfway up his throat and his eyes flashed wide. He couldn’t believe what he stared at: a woman with long auburn hair, olive skin, but eyes the color of sapphires… Kaharan eyes.
He could hardly move being so transfixed with her: she, who had her arms wrapped around what should have been his dinner.
This saintly creature tilted her head, her cheek pressed against the side of the deer’s nose. Sweet song drifted from her pink lips, leaking into the air around her. She lifted her head, glancing up at Coel before he had a chance to realize that he had been exposed.
He dropped the bow and darted behind the cover of a hefty tree trunk, swiping a bead of nervous sweat off of his dark green forehead. He internally kicked himself for not engineering his disguise sooner. He didn’t know who this woman could be… but she had undoubtedly seen him.
***
Sarah couldn’t have been sure of what she had seen. Her eyes flashed open to the quiet darkness of the inside of her tent. The black air pressed down on her like a cold blanket. She flipped her flashlight on and slipped the small canvas out of her backpack.
Her hands moved, guided by the vision in her head of that strange creature she couldn’t have even been sure that she had seen. When he gazed at her with those emerald eyes, she had never felt more transfixed. His stare wrapped her in its hold as her fingers flickered across the page.
A thin tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to convince herself that this godlike being could not have been real.
Chapter Two
After three days, Sarah couldn’t resist the curiosity bubbling in the pit of her belly of that preservation sight. She slipped on two pairs of socks and her favorite parka, then took the short trek to the excavation site, a hidden city that had just been uncovered 50 feet underground.
She stood on the ledge, watching the University researchers and assistants bustle around amongst the ruins. The sight of all of that faded rock, the evidence of a whole lost people being rediscovered like new, filled her with a sense of purpose that set her insides on fire. She scanned the small cell below her, filled with people rushing around, and found a set of temporary stairs just half way around the ellipses. But when she took her first step, she felt something grip her arm.
“I apologize if I startled you.”
She hadn’t even flinched.
“That’s quite all right,” she said as she gazed up at the man nearly six and half feet tall. His eyes drew her in, sharp and emerald. She swore she had seen them before.
His wide shoulders lifted in an exaggerated shrug as he looked out on the site. “Came across this place on accident.”
Sarah nodded. She struggled to think over the sound of her heart pounding. Her eyes watered because she couldn’t understand the sensations happening inside of her. She could feel the ebb and flow of water rushing up the tiny tunnels inside of the shrubs around her, but she couldn’t make sense of the fluttering in her own stomach. “Me too. I was, um… hiking.”
He nodded. “I just love these mountains.”
Sarah furrowed her brow. The sentence sounded like he had been carefully crafted. “I come here to get away from everything.”
“Are you from around here?” He asked, his voice as smooth as silk.
She shook her head, her eyes glued to the activities in front of them. She feared if she glanced at him, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to look away. “No. I’m from New York. I came out here after the—”
She stopped herself. She could hardly think the words, let alone say them out loud to a complete stranger.
She felt him glance down at her, that calculating stare reaching deep down into her. “After what?”
“Have you ever thought of volunteering?” She asked, struggling to change the subject.
They both glanced back out into the clearing. “Precisely why I’m here,” He said.
“Are you from the University?”
“No, I live around here.”
Sarah raised a brow. She hadn’t felt a disturbance on her way up. The woods were seamless, virgin. This huge research site was the first sign of an apex she’d noticed since she got off the plane. “Where?”
“West?” He made a vague gesture to his right.
“And you’re just hiking.”
He looked past her. “This site strikes me. I read about it somewhere.”
Sarah’s eyes flashed wide. “Tell me what you know.”
He stepped away from the ledge and deeper back into the shrub.
She subconsciously followed.
“It’s an ancient city built by a group of… well, they disappeared.”
Sarah pressed her palm against the trunk of a tree to steady herself, but as the bark began to rearrange itself with her touch, she drew her hand away. She found it difficult to hide herself from him and yet, at the same time, a small part of her didn’t want to try. “What do you mean? Disappeared?”
He shrugged as if it were the most nonchalant thing on the planet. “People have their theories.”
“Tell me yours,” Sarah said, taking a deliberate ste
p towards him. She wanted to see exactly how he would respond.
He opened his mouth once, but then shut it. Again. And again.
Sarah shifted her feet.
“It is said that they were a mystical people,” He stepped towards her.
Sarah took a waft of his scent, something like sweet metal. She felt it trickle down into her, settling in the pit of her stomach and radiating out to all of her extremities. “How mystical?”
“No one can trace their lineages, geographical or other wise to an origin. It’s like they simply appeared here. They were physical spectacles of the time: large, just as large as the average human today, which is strange considering the fact that they were ancient.”
Sarah found herself leaning into him, her whole body, from her cells upward, drawn to his presence. “So what happened to them?”
“No one knows.”
She could have been in a steam bath, she felt so warm. Goosebumps sprouted onto her skin, that sinking feeling pulling her out from under. “How tragic—.”
“Who are you?”
Sarah shook her head, jarred by this sudden change in subject. They had been discussing an ancient people and now, somehow, she had become more intriguing to him.
He stared at her with eyes wide, crazed almost.
She couldn’t decide whether to be excited or afraid.
“I’m Sarah Martin. A painter…”
He gave a short nod, his hooded eyes trained right at her. “Coel. Archeologist.”
***
Coel barged into his raider, shutting the door behind him. He sat down on his makeshift cot, slipping his boots off all in one fluid motion. He swiped his notebook off of the side table and started furiously writing. The ruins were exactly what he had come to earth looking for… but they were nothing more than just that: ruins. And only Sarah had led him to them.
It’s true. A human woman had managed to derail Coel so far off that he had spent the better part of his first full day of research following her around. And yet, as much as he wanted to berate himself for it, he couldn’t deny that thing inside of her begging to be explored.