Dazzled by the Alien Daredevil: An Alien Abduction Romance (The Kurians Book 5)

by Ashlyn Hawkes

  Actually, I do think there was something once. A town that had a fair amount of prejudice toward a Kurian who lives there now. There are a few on Earth now. Not all of them are on Kuria, so I guess it makes sense for there to be even more to come over. It's nice for them to venture here instead of the women always having to be the ones who travel to the new planet.

  I flip through. There’s a lot more static now, but eventually, I find a station with a song I never heard before. A sultry woman is singing.

  “You never know the future. You have to dare to fly. Your wings might get broken, but they’ll heal. Dare to try. Dare to live. Dare to fly.”

  My fingers itch to turn the dial. My life has always been about daring to live.

  The next station that comes in clear is another song.

  “When you’re hurting, when you’re scared, when you’re thinking no one’s there, do what you have to in order to survive. Hurt them back, make them scared, show that you’re not—”

  What the hell? What kind of a song is that? Not one that I want to listen to.

  I turn the dial and try to see if there’s anything good on, anything worth listening to, but there isn’t, and I shut off the radio.

  Unbidden, a song I used to listen to all the time comes back to me, and I begin to hum it.

  "Take chances and dream a dream so big it terrifies you. The only change you have at changing is if you push yourself. Push, push, push yourself. You can be so much more. You can feel so much more. You can achieve whatever you want if you just try, try, try. If you just try, try, try. If you try, you might fail, but if you never try, you'll never win. And that's all life is, winning and losing. Be a winner as much as you can, but when you lose, and you will lose, just keep on going. You can achieve whatever you want if you just try, try, try. If you just try, try, try."

  I clear my throat and glance around. Strol isn't anywhere nearby, so he didn't overhear me sing it. I haven't sung in forever, and my voice cracked a bit. I used to sing all the time, before. That's how I view life now. Before and after, and after sucks. Yes, I'm doing whatever the fuck I want, but there's no one here anymore.

  No one but Strol.

  I don’t want to lose anyone else, but eventually, he’ll leave me too. I just will have to deal with that. Accept it for what it is. Life can only last for so long before we have to die, and then life goes on for everyone else. We’re just dead and forgotten.

  I won’t forget, but I’m basically the only one who remembers. Once I’m dead, no one else will care about her.

  A grief that can't be spoken, a grief I've been trying desperately to ignore, threatens to overwhelm me, and I pick up the radio, intent on smashing it when I hear someone behind me.

  “I’m ready,” Strol declares, and I just stare at him as I slowly put down the radio.

  What would happen if I stopped being afraid? What would the future be like if I gave in and gave him a chance?

  Does he even want that? I know he wants me physically, and I’ve never had better sex in my life, and that’s saying something because I’ve had a lot of sexual partners over the years.

  What makes a relationship last? And why do I think I might want to give that a chance now when I was fine being single?

  He's a Kurian. He'll outlive me, so I wouldn't have to mourn him.

  Fuck, can I be any more morbid?

  “About damn time,” I tell him, but my heart is pounding.

  I’m afraid.

  Afraid I’m going to lose him before I’ve even had him and then I’ll learn what it truly means to be alone.

  11

  Strol

  The way Isabella stares at me tells me that she’s been thinking about something deep. She looks shaken up, but then she just says, “About damn time.”

  She’s still keeping me at arm’s length, and I don’t know how much longer I can handle that. I don’t like this game we’re playing anymore. Well, I do, and I don’t. The daredevil stuff is great fun, and I appreciate that. I love her zest for life, but I want to know everything about her, and if she doesn’t start opening up to me and talking to me and letting me in, then I’m going to have to leave.

  I don’t want just sex anymore. That’s not enough for me.

  For now, though, we’re just worrying about the daredevil bit, so I motion for her to climb down from her perch on a tall mountain of stuff.

  Once she’s most of the way down, I hold out my hand. She grabs it, and I lead the way for her to reach my spot.

  She gasps as she takes in the small Novan ship that I repaired as best as I can.

  “Now, I haven’t tested to see if it can fly, but I think it should, and it does power on,” I inform her.

  “Strol, why didn’t you tell me!” she accuses me. “I was so bored out of my mind, and I could’ve been excited!”

  “I don’t know for certain it’ll fly, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then dash them.”

  “You must know a fair amount about machines to be able to repair all of this,” she says.

  “You did that radio,” I say.

  “You were spying on me,” she says.

  “No. I’m just observant.” I grin and throw her a wink. “I might’ve glanced over and watched as you would bend down. Your ass… My eyes just love to stare at it. What can I say?”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “But an entire ship…”

  “It’s banged up and beaten. It clearly had to have crashed during the war. I banged out most of the dents.”

  “The war,” she murmurs, and she looks away.

  I’m torn, so very torn. I’ve been working for so long to get this ship to work, and I’m eager to see if it can fly, but I also want to push Isabella and try to get her to open up to me.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

  “The war? It didn’t affect me directly,” she says.

  “I know, but it must’ve indirectly.”

  I feel stupid as soon as I say that, but the nature of her reality has been affected by the war no matter what she claims.

  "Let's see if this baby will fly, okay? I assume you do know your way around a cock… pit," she says, trailing her fingers across my chest before climbing up the ramp onto the ship.

  Damn. That woman is going to be the death of me. One of my nuts is going to explode, and I’ll die from the pain.

  I trail behind her and don’t bother to give her a tour, just march around her to the cockpit. She has to follow me there, and I instruct her to sit. This ship is much smaller than the one I flew in to reach Earth. It’s meant to be a fighter, smaller so less of a target, faster, with a great deal more maneuverability.

  The last is what I’m after.

  “Buckle up,” I tell her, and I do the same. “Ready?”

  “Born ready,” she says cheerfully.

  “You better hold on,” I warn her, “because if this can fly, we’re going to really fly.”

  “I’m waiting,” she says. If she’s trying to sound bored, she’s failing miserably.

  With a grin, I flick levers, pull out knobs, and push buttons. I have to slap the dashboard a few times, but finally, we’re hovering, and then the accelorators kick in, and we’re flying.

  With a whoop, I have us climb higher and higher, testing out what the ship can handle. I don’t want to risk going too high, though, just in case anything happens, but the ship is handling things well. Most of the damage had been cosmetic, but I did have to take a few parts from centuricmobiles and adapt them for the ship.

  “Ask me how I knew how to repair this baby,” I tell Isabella.

  “All right, I’ll bite. Tell me.”

  I glance over at her. Her dark eyes are lit up, and her smile is huge. She’s staring at me instead of straight ahead at her beautiful planet.

  "I borrowed a ship back on Kuria. I crashed it. Father found out about it. He was furious, but I had managed to repair the ship entirely, so he didn't ever learn that I crashed it."

  “
You’re terrible.”

  “I’m not terrible. I just know how to protect myself.”

  “And cover your tracks,” she says lightly.

  “Yep, that too.”

  “Wait. You said protect yourself. Your father—”

  Before she can finish that sentence, I turn us hard to the side and flip us around. Immediately, I start to do all kinds of crazy loops, one after the other, playing around. Isabella laughs and shrieks the entire time, and I’m laughing myself. Her happiness is contagious, and I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time.

  Just then, a buzzing sound fills the cockpit.

  “What’s that?” Isabella asks.

  “Someone wants to communicate with the ship,” I tell her.

  “Someone? Who?”

  “Someone from Earth.”

  “Oh. You might want to answer.”

  “I doubt that. They’ll want to know why we’re flying, and I just see it causing more issues than it’s worth.”

  “Strol…”

  “You really want me to answer?” I ask. “That’s playing by the rules. Daredevils give rules the fingers.”

  “I know that, but…”

  I grit my teeth. I haven’t thought anyone would notice us since we’ve been living essentially in a bubble for so long, but that’s clearly not the case anymore. The message must be from Earthlings, which would make them either government or military, and I can’t have either side learn who I am.

  With a sigh, I open the line of communication.

  “Yes?” I say.

  “Unidentified ship, please identify yourself.”

  “This ship doesn’t have a name,” I return.

  "What are your numbers?"

  “Doesn’t have numbers either.”

  “How can a ship not have numbers? This is ridiculous. You must land at once. Come down, and we will—”

  “We won’t.”

  I close the communication line, don’t bother to look at Isabella, and hightail us out of there, pushing every bit of speed from the ship. An Earthling plane comes into view behind us. Was it that plane that hailed us? Or did someone else send up the plane? Either way, it doesn’t matter because I have my ship zoom away so fast that I leave the other plane in my dust.

  It takes a bit of time for my heart to stop racing and for me to risk slowing down. A minute passes, another, and there’s no sign of that plane.

  Good.

  With a wink to Isabella, I go back to doing crazy stunts with the plane, and by the time the sun sets, I figure it would be safe to go back to the scrapyard. After all, I’m not sure where else I could land the thing.

  Isabella unharnesses herself, but she doesn’t stand up. She just stares at me. “That was insane,” she murmurs.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I loved it. It gave me a bit of insight into…”

  “Into what?” I asked.

  “Into the war.”

  She looks away, but then she turns back, and her face is entirely open. There's a pain in her eyes, but she's not suppressing it.

  I hold my breath. What is she going to say next?

  “Strol, ask me about my parents,” she says in an even tone.

  “Isabella, I would love to know about your parents.”

  “I have no idea who my dad is,” she says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Never met him. I don’t even know his name, so I doubt Mom ever cared for him. Maybe I was the product of a one-night stand. Or maybe she loved him, but he cheated on her. Maybe he ran off when he learned she was pregnant. I have no idea. He might even be alive, but I have no way to look for him, not that I want to.”

  “I really am sorry.”

  She waves my words away. “Not your fault. Not mine either. My mom’s maybe, but I learned early on not to ever ask her any questions about him. She wouldn’t get sad or mad. She would just shut down and not talk to me, not even look at me. I hated that, so I stopped asking.”

  “What about her? What else are you willing to share?”

  She eyes me and slowly grins. “I shouldn’t share anything with you.”

  “You don’t have to,” I protests.

  “Believe me, I know I don’t have to,” she drawls, “but I might as well since I’ve been yapping anyhow. “My mom was a fighter.”

  “What kind of a fighter.”

  “A fighter pilot. She fought in the war with the Grots.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s an amazing woman.”

  “She really was. She was injured severely, but when I was about five, her old injury took a turn for the worse, and she couldn’t walk.” She hesitates. “Five days before you showed up, my mom died.”

  “Isabella.”

  “It’s all right. I… I’m okay. I am.”

  “That’s why you’re so rebellious,” I suppose.

  “I don’t need you to try to understand every little thing I’ve ever done with my life,” she says sharply.

  “I’m not trying to,” I protest. “I’ll say this much. The only time I feel truly alive is when I’m doing something daring.”

  “Yes,” she murmurs slowly. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I… There’s peace. Mom didn’t want me to do anything with the military. Her getting hurt really affected her, and that she couldn’t walk…”

  “That’s why you’re so efficient at making fires and cooking and hunting,” I say.

  “Yes. Mom had a decent amount of money from the government and military because of her efforts in the war, but she didn’t want to use it. She kept it for a rainy day.”

  “But the rain never came,” I say.

  “Exactly.” Isabella shrugs. “I’ve never been much for money, but after Mom died, I… my first instinct wasn’t to just do whatever I wanted. I didn’t want to spend her money, and I still don’t. I haven’t spent a single cent of it.” She blows out a breath. “I wanted to join the military.”

  “Did you try to?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “Does it look like I’m in the military?” she asks dryly.

  “No, but if you were in the military, you would be the sexiest member.”

  She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “I failed the mission.”

  “What mission?”

  “A training mission. There was a rule I broke, but it saved a life, and I have no regrets for what I did. Sometimes, it’s necessary to break the rules.”

  “Yes, sometimes it is.” I cross over to her and crouch down beside her. She remains sitting yet, and I touch her hand. “Rules are sometimes meant to be broken, but hearts aren’t meant to be.”

  “Why are you talking about hearts?” she asks, sounding almost angry. She goes to remove her hand, but I hold on tight.

  “I don’t personally know loss like you do, but I do think that your mother would want you to be happy and to take heart. To live.”

  “She would,” Isabella murmurs.

  “Decide what you want to do with your life and do it,” I advise.

  “How about for now, I’ll just decide who I want to do,” she whispers.

  I grin. “That works for me, but only if I’m the one you want.”

  She makes a show of glancing all around. “There’s no one else around. I guess you’ll just have to do.”

  “Good,” I say firmly, and I straighten and remove my clothes.

  “I can want you, but it not mean sex,” she says dryly.

  I flare my nostrils.

  Isabella flushes, looking positively delicious with her adorable embarrassment. Normally, sex talk like that doesn’t make her self-conscious, but she also hasn’t shared intimate details about her life before.

  This time, we won’t be fucking. We’ll have sex.

  Who knows? Maybe one day, if we can get over our hang-ups, we might be able to make love. Until then, I'll take what I can get.

  12

  Isabe
lla

  The way Strol flares his nostrils, I know.

  I know he’s falling for me.

  And I’ve already fallen for him.

  Despite trying desperately to keep him at bay, I’ve failed. My heart has picked him to be the first and potentially only male for me to ever love.

  Because I’ve always known that when I would fall in love, it would be for keeps. I’ve gone through so many short-lived relationships that the idea of being with someone long-term equals forever.

  I’m terrified. I’ve never once told any of the other guys about my dad. Sharing that intimate detail about my life only highlights the notion that Strol means more to me than any who has come before.

  But can I actually give in to those feelings and see where they lead me?

  Or should I try to pretend that it’s just sex for as long as I can?

  Because even if I do want to be with Strol, that doesn’t mean I can or even that I should. He’s brought up his father, but clearly, there’s something there, something he’s avoiding. And I don’t know what the future would have in store for us. As a Kurian, Strol really should be with a woman who is willing and eager to be a mother, and I don’t know if that’s me. The thought of settling down in a house with a regular job makes me want to break out in hives. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that. But while I’ve enjoyed this bout of living at large, at doing whatever I want, I know it can’t last forever. Eventually, I’ll have to reenter society.

  A society that failed my mom.

  She had been a war hero, and yes, she managed to get pregnant with me after she had been injured, but as far as I know, no one tried to help her, to heal her. No surgeries had been done to try to fix her. I think there had been shrapnel in her leg or back from when her ship had been shot down. That shrapnel had never been removed, and it hadn’t stayed in one spot in her body. After a centuricar accident that had truly been no one’s fault, her body had been jarred so much that the shrapnel moved and remained stuck in a place that rendered her incapable of walking ever again.