Prison Moon - Warlord's Mate: An Alien Abduction Sci Fi Romance

by Lily Graison

  She hadn’t voluntarily initiated any sort of contact but after seeing him bathe, she was rethinking that possibility, especially after waking in the pre-dawn light to find his morning wood pressed into her ass. She now knew why it had felt so big. Because it was. Not only was he massive in height, his shoulders impossibly wide, he had the biggest dick she’d ever seen and thinking about it made her ache in ways she shouldn’t be on an alien planet filled with creatures straight out of her nightmares.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. She’d been afraid of being raped when she got dropped on this moon and that very well may still happen, but now, instead of thinking about forced sex, she can’t help but think of sex for pleasure with a surly, rude warlord.

  Was it her fault she found him attractive? Well, yes, but … she couldn’t deny that he was good looking, even with that gnarly beard, because the simple fact was—he just flat out did it for her. Stupid as it may be, she couldn’t help it. He would probably end up killing her or passing her off to one of his buddies here in camp and she’d hate him for it but for now … he was a nice piece of eye candy.

  He wasn’t anything close to being the type of guy she dated. Hell, she wouldn’t have approached someone like him back on earth if she’d been drunk and dared to but there was no denying how her traitorous body responded to him all the same.

  Soft whispers and a grunt snapped her out of her daze and she turned her head to see two aliens sitting near a hut not far from the fire pit. They were the same species and appeared human-like except they reminded her more of a goat than a human. With curling horns and flat noses, they were a bit odd looking, and they both had a slight hump on their back. Long, white hair fell nearly to their waists and even though neither of them looked old, something about them told her they were.

  One of them gasped when she looked at him and he grabbed the other by the arm and turned them both so they were facing the opposite side of camp. Marcy raised an eyebrow at them. What the hell was that all about? She shook her head and bent to pick up the bucket she’d been putting the ashes in and carried it to the spot behind one of the smaller huts she’d been told to dump them, pouring them out before heading to where the other females were. Celestia, the blue female, offered her a bucket of water to clean her hands with. “Thanks.” She washed, trying to dig the soot out from under her fingernails and straightened when she’d finished, grabbing a cloth to dry them.

  “You cleaning the pit that way was punishment from Jityria.”

  “I figured as much.” Marcy tossed the drying cloth down, “So, where did the men go?”

  Sabera, the female who reminded her of a fairy said, “I heard Aryn say there is a drop today.”

  “A drop?”

  She nodded. “Yes. A supply drop more than likely.”

  “Or more females,” Celestia added in.

  More females? The Chase popped into her head. Memories of being an unwilling contestant in that brutal game came back in an instant. Subscribers across the galaxy paid for the privilege to watch it and she’d been an unwilling participate to the spectacle.

  The females they dropped here were told to run or die in the wastelands with no food or water. She’d run for her life, along with Sara, and hid in an old crumbling structure that had given her the creeps. Emma had refused to move when the aliens had been set loose. She’d been too scared and once she followed Sara into the trees, she’d never looked back to see if Emma had tried to follow them or not. She never saw her again after that and assumed she hadn’t.

  Tezhila crossed camp, her arms full of baskets. Celestia and Sabera both grabbed one, the last of them being offered to her.

  “What’s this for?”

  “We forage today.”

  “Forage for what?”

  “Food.”

  She’d not been in the forest since being brought to the warlords camp and other than the brief glances she caught on the way to the pond, she hadn’t explored any of the vegetation on this little moon. The surrounding area looked much like the forest at home did but things grew here that looked as alien as most of the people here did.

  Trees that held large ear-like protrusions seemed to be their first stop. Sabera broke one off and tossed it into her basket and told her to do the same.

  “These are edible?”

  “Yes. The mash we ate last night is made of this.”

  The reminder of that bowl of thick sludge she’d been fed the night before made her stomach turn. The stuff had reminded her of oatmeal but it certainly didn’t taste like it. The texture had been much thicker and coarse and the taste was bitter on her tongue. She’d choked it down despite the taste. It was either that or eat the leftover table scraps from the alien’s plates. Most of what they ate looked disgusting when they’d served it fresh. Eating it after they’d already picked through it was just—unacceptable.

  As they plucked off the tree ears, Marcy saw what looked like small eggs on the ground near the base of all the trees. They looked like short mushrooms and she bent to get a better look. She ran her finger over one and jumped back when it suddenly moved.

  The egg popped open in sections like flower petals stretching toward the sun but these weren’t flower petals. They were thick and rolled out from the center of the egg into what looked like octopus legs. The inner flesh was a soft pink but a few of them had streaks of red running through them. “What the hell is this?”

  “Dohi,” Celestia said. “They are good for eating.”

  Sabera stepped closer and toed another of the eggs with her foot, waiting as it popped open, the arm-like protrusions crawling out to lay on the ground. “Cayen doesn’t cook with them often. They are better eaten raw.”

  They moved around the forest, the females showing her things they could eat, plants she could eat raw and which needed to be cooked, and the things that were poisonous. They’d walked nearly an entire circle around camp when she heard the humming sound that reminded her of music again. She stopped and looked up, expecting to see one of the camera orbs but the sky was clear. She looked at the others. They didn’t seem to notice. Either that or they ignored it.

  This part of the forest was more densely packed with trees and she spotted a few of those small white flowers. She bent to pick one but stopped when she noticed the humming got louder closer to the ground. She knelt and bent her head, putting her ear closer to it. The humming was coming from the flower.

  Marcy sat up, staring at it for long moments before picking it up. The humming died instantly. She frowned.

  “Are you all right?”

  Celestia stepped into her line of sight.

  “I killed it.”

  “You killed what?”

  “The flower. It’s not singing anymore.”

  “Singing? Flowers do not sing.”

  Celestia walked away, leaving Marcy with the flower. Had she heard it humming? She searched the forest ground for more and saw another a few feet away. She knelt by it and smiled. It was definitely humming. “Singing flowers.”

  She left the new flower where it was, afraid of killing it if she picked it and stuck the one in her hand behind her ear before standing back up and continued foraging. They’d been out there for a long time by themselves and Marcy wondered why the females were trusted so much. Did they honestly believe they wouldn’t run?

  She looked around the forest, and back toward camp but saw no one. Could she leave without being seen? Or was someone watching, and she just hadn’t noticed them?

  Jorrick had given her a hard look before he left and now she wondered if he’d expected her to try to leave. There weren’t many men in camp today. Most had left. If there was a day to sneak away, it was this one.

  She turned away from camp and looked into the distance. Celestia and the others were far enough away they’d not know she was gone until it was too late. Question was—where would she go? And how long before someone noticed she was gone and came looking for her?

  The drop site
was already crowded when they reached it. There were others waiting in the trees and gathered in small clusters all along the clearing. Their voices carried and was followed by the occasional burst of laughter. Jorrick scowled at them, crossing his arms over his chest. What did anyone have to be happy about here? In all the drops he’d ever been a part of, not once had he ever enjoyed it. After the first few, his mind grew numb to it all, and it was nothing more than a game of kill or be killed.

  He looked into the sky. The craft dropping the supplies hovered in mid-air, the crate suspended by long cables. There was only one this time, which meant the fight would be brutal. No … with Aris missing, the fight would be dangerous. He was distracted, his mind occupied with thoughts of the foolish nincop. He should have given him a task to occupy his time better. He could have watched over the red one, made sure she was well cared for and in good health for when Allok came for her.

  A shout echoed through the clearing. Someone had already started fighting. He enjoyed this less and less. If it weren’t for the girl, he probably wouldn’t have even bothered with the battle, especially seeing as so little was being offered but—she needed things. She had his shirts, but they were four sizes too large for her and she needed protection for her feet. He’d seen the way she tiptoed along the path and through camp. She wasn’t used to walking without proper foot protection. Her feet would toughen up over time but once the ground grew colder, and the wind howled through the mountains, she’d need more protection than his shirts and he’d never force anyone to walk in snow without anything on their feet. He may be known for his cruelty but he wasn’t a total monster.

  The whirring sound of the ship’s engines overhead indicated they were about to drop the crate. He looked at the others, meeting all their gazes. Some of them wouldn’t make it. They’d never gone to battle for a drop and not lost someone and he didn’t think today would be an exception.

  His men grabbed their weapons, everyone on their feet now and he did the same, looking across the clearing at the others waiting for the bloodshed to start. He gripped the blade in his hand tighter and let his anger at Aris leaving camp when he told him not to build until it filled him with fury, then let his constant worry over the new female, when he wanted nothing more than to forget about her, fill him with rage. When the cables holding the crate clanked, the box falling through the air, his voice joined the others as they all roared and ran for the clearing.

  Chapter Seven

  Leaving had been nothing but wishful thinking. The moment Marcy got too far away from camp, the rustling in the trees had drawn her attention and she saw that they were indeed being watched.

  Several aliens were perched on platforms built around the branches. They reminded her of deer stands hunter's back on earth used, the only difference being these encircled the entire tree, giving them the ability to walk around it and see in every direction. They were lookout stations. Or she assumed they were.

  They’d been herded back to camp, their foraged goods taken to the females small hut to be sorted, cut, and cleaned. They spent half the morning prepping what they’d found and by the time the sun was directly overhead, Marcy’s back ached from being hunched over on the low-lying stool she sat on.

  She straightened and stretched, her back popping before she sighed in relief. “Do you ever get tired of this?”

  “Tired of what?”

  “Tired of this …” She motioned to the numerous baskets at their feet. “Tired of doing nothing from sunup to sun down but exactly what someone tells you to?”

  Sebera shrugged a shoulder. “I was taken so long ago, this is all I’ve ever known.”

  “There will be more to do once the warlord returns with supplies.” Tezhila moved the full basket in front of her aside and put an empty one in its place. “We will either sort the goods they were able to attain or tend to the wounds they have.”

  “Wounds?”

  “Yes. The supply drops are brutal. They drop the crates from the sky and once they hit the ground, they bust open to reveal what’s inside. Most of the time it’s warm garments and medical supplies, some foodstuff and occasionally, weapons. Everyone runs to grab what they can and many fights happen, some fatal.”

  The images popping into Marcy’s head were that of the opening scene in The Hunger Games, when they’d all made a mad dash to grab whatever they could and not die trying. She’d seen the aliens in The Chase when they were dropped there and most of them had looked rabid. How brutal would the fighting be for basic necessities? Getting a female was a luxury item but simple, everyday items they all needed to survive? The drop zone would be pure chaos.

  Commotion near the trees drew their attention moments before voices could be heard along with the occasional outburst of laughter. As if summoned by thought alone, the aliens who’d left for the supply drop returned, arms full of goods.

  Marcy scanned those stepping into the clearing, looking for one alien in particular, then turned her head when she realized she was doing it. She needed to stop thinking about him. Just because he was easy on the eyes didn’t mean he was a nice guy. From what she’d heard, he was the complete opposite.

  She picked up another of the large ear-like things they’d torn from the trees and began slicing it into smaller pieces and was able to ignore the returning men for less than two minutes. Looking back over her shoulder, she searched those heading across camp and saw Jorrick enter the clearing a few moments later. He headed straight for Jityria. No wonder the woman thought she was something special.

  Jealous much?

  Jorrick handed Jityria a handful of cloth and walked away, up towards the path to the pond. He was wearing someone else’s blood again, or she assumed it was someone else’s. He didn’t act as if he was hurt.

  She raised her eyes to his face and jolted in shock when she saw he was looking at her and turned away quickly, staring back down at the baskets in front of her. Great. That was three times today he’d caught her staring at him.

  Marcy pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face while glancing at the others. As usual, they had their heads down, working and minding their own business like always. The desire to look back over her shoulder was strong, but she refused to give Jorrick anymore attention. She’d looked like a starry-eyed teen enough for one day.

  Movement to her left brought her head up. Jityria was walking her way, her hands full of material. As usual, she was wearing that sour look on her face.

  She stopped beside her and tossed a bundle of cloth at her feet. “You are to go wash the stink off of you and get out of the warlord’s shirt.” She glanced at what she’d thrown down and smiled. “Wear that, if you can.”

  Jityria walked away, her arms still filled with the cloth she assumed was more clothing. Marcy reached for what Jityria had dropped. It was nothing more than two scraps of brown material and a pair of flimsy sandals. She wouldn’t complain about the shoes. Walking around barefoot wasn’t fun but what the hell was she supposed to do with scraps of material? Jityria’s smiling face came back to mind. Her giving her nothing more than strips of cloth was exactly why she’d given it to her. That hateful heifer.

  “I have sewing materials.”

  Marcy looked up at Celestia. “Thanks. I’ll undoubtedly need them.” She stood and held the pieces up again. The cloth was thin, and both strips were wide and long enough to wrap around her several times. She could make a wrap dress. Maybe.

  The shirt she’d been given was nearly black now thanks to Jityria making her clean the ash pit by hand. She searched for Jityria. The warlord had told her not to leave camp unescorted or without permission. Was Jityria supposed to go with her? She probably wouldn’t even if she asked. But … she’d told her to go bathe so maybe that was all the permission she needed.

  Tucking the material under her arm, she headed toward the path to the pond. She was halfway there before she realized Jorrick had gone this way. He wasn’t at the pond when she made it to the top of the hill, though. She looked to
ward the waterfall cave. If she had to guess, she’d say that was where he’d gone and even though that waterfall looked like heaven, she headed toward the pond.

  The water was as cold as it had been earlier and she hissed in a startled breath when she stepped in. She looked toward the cave. Not seeing Jorrick, she stripped off the filthy shirt, sucked in a breath and took a running leap into the water.

  And came up gasping.

  As she had the day before, she scrubbed with the fine-grain sand on the bottom of the pond, her skin tingling by the time she saw Jorrick exit the cave. She ducked down, submerging in the water until nothing but her nose and the top of her head were peeking out and watched him walk to the path and head back to camp. If he’d literally meant for her to not leave camp alone, she certainly didn’t want him to see her by herself again.

  Marcy finished her bath and dried her hair and body on the longest strip of cloth Jityria had given her and then wrapped it around her body. It barely covered her ass and all it would take was for her to lean over to show anyone looking everything she had.

  She unwound the cloth and wrapped it around her waist instead, making a skirt out of it. It fell to the top of her thighs. Pushing the material to her hips made it long enough her butt wouldn’t show if she bent over and she tucked the end into the material wrapped around her hips and grabbed the second piece of cloth. She did the same with it, wrapping it around her top half and secured it underneath her arm, then picked up the old shirt she'd been wearing and headed back to camp.

  She asked Celestia about her sewing supplies when she made it back to the females hut. She followed her inside and was reaching for the small box when the material she had wrapped around her breasts fell off. Celestia laughed. It was the first time she'd ever heard her do it but as soon as she did, she looked horrified and hurried out of the hut.

  "These aliens are so strange." The box contained a crude needled that looked to be made of something resembling bone. The thread was thicker than what she'd used back on earth but beggars couldn't be choosers.