CAT SHIFTERS OF AAIDAR: ENSNARE: (A Sci-fi Alien Romance, Book 3)

by Christina Wilder

  We couldn’t cling to each other, even if we both needed it more than anything.

  Soldiers did not hold hands.

  “Act natural,” Neer said, stepping out from underneath the long prison roof overhang. He started down a crushed stone walkway, walking tall, and we followed in single file. Khal took the back with me in the middle.

  We wound around the building and by three others, nodding to soldiers and civilians we passed along the way, aiming for one of the lesser-used gates.

  As we approached the guard tower, someone called down, “Going out on early patrol?”

  “Yup,” Neer said. He waved to us. “They’re taking a runner.” He leaned close to Khal and indicated one of three vehicles parked beside the gate.

  Khal and I strode over to one, and Khal climbed onto the front. Trying to act manly, I slid onto the back but gripped Khal’s waist tight.

  A rippling shudder went through Khal, and I knew he was remembering Becka and what happened the last time a woman he cared for had ridden behind him.

  I’d heard enough inside the lab to know the accident hadn’t been Khal’s fault. Becka caused it, and it resulted in her death.

  Would Khal be able to set aside his guilt about her? Even knowing he wasn’t to blame wouldn’t make things much easier.

  I hoped he could, because the burden had weighted him down too long already.

  We—maybe—had a future together. Putting the past behind him might let him move forward, and I’d be there with him.

  Khal started the runner with a bang and a rumble of the engine. Black smoke spewed out behind me, an inky-oily cloud that dissipated into the cool morning air.

  The gate slowly opened.

  “If things get too hot here,” I told Neer. “There’s a spot for you with the Resistance. Anytime.”

  Neer frowned. “They’d kill me before they’d let me in.”

  Reaching out, I gripped his forearm. Stared into his eyes. “They’ll let you in. Trust me.”

  Khal shot me a confused look, and I knew I’d have to explain everything soon.

  “Thanks,” Khal said to Neer. “I owe you one.”

  Neer nodded and stepped away from the runner as I tightened my grip on Khal’s waist.

  With a roar of the engine, Khal drove us through the compound’s interior gate.

  The laserblade fence waited for us next, and it was anyone’s guess if we’d make it through before we were caught.

  Tension coiled in my belly and made my tired arms and legs quake.

  “Stand by,” a guard yelled from the tower. “Shutting the fence down in three…two…”

  “Don’t let them get away!” Hartlin roared from too close behind us.

  Damn. I thought we’d make it.

  “Go!” I leaned forward, bumping Khal’s back, not that he needed encouragement. He opened the runner’s throttle and we bounced forward across the rough terrain, aiming for what I hoped would be an opening in the laserblade fence.

  As we approached, the hum of the blade winked out, barely discernible over the runner’s engine. My heart jumped up into my throat, making it hard to breathe.

  “Go,” I shrieked again.

  Flooding the engine, Khal urged the runner to give us more speed. We zipped forward.

  So close. Would we make it?

  “Turn the fence back on now,” Hartlin shouted behind us. He’d reached the inner gate.

  My back crawled, even though he hadn’t yet fired.

  I slapped Khal’s shoulders, as if that would make the runner go faster.

  These crappy things had not been built for speed.

  We rumbled forward, passing the charred remains of previous victims, approaching the wide-open desert.

  Freedom lay ahead, if we could make it.

  I peered back, and my body slumped with fear and distress.

  They’d brought out the two other runners, and Hartlin had climbed on board one while a t guard manned the other. Both men, armed to the hilt, were approaching the laserblade fence mark, their lighter load allowing the runners to gain on us.

  “We’ve gotta get out of here,” I said. “Hide!”

  “On it,” Khal said, his attention focused on what lay ahead.

  We slammed over bumps and drove up and over a large hill, jolting down the other side.

  Hells only knew where the main access road was, because it sure wasn’t going in this direction.

  From the sun’s position, as well as that of the two moons overhead, north lay to our right. I pointed. “Go that way.”

  Khal turned the vehicle, and, with the engine screaming, we snarled up another hill and down the other side.

  Glancing behind, I noted Hartlin and the guard had made it past the laserblade fence before it fired back up. Damn. I’d hoped it would either block them or fry them.

  With two on our runner, we’d never get away. We had to think of a different plan than outdistancing them.

  More black smoke erupted from the back of the runner as we crested another hill, and I worried it would kick out on us before we escaped.

  “There.” I pointed.

  A cliff with a network of black holes loomed ahead of us. Could we reach it? Then we could hide in the cave system.

  If only we’d taken weapons from the compound. But there hadn’t been time.

  With the motor screaming, we rushed toward the cliff.

  A bump dislodged my grip, and I started edging backward on the runner. Emitting a small squeak, I scrambled to hold on.

  “Almost there,” Khal said, his hands turning white on the handlebars.

  Our runner slowed, and I knew what was happening would be torture for Khal. But my fingers were sliding. Along Khal’s waist, then raking across the seat of the runner.

  When we jolted over a rock, I tumbled off the vehicle.

  While Khal’s cry stabbed through me, I rolled, my hands pressed over my belly to protect our baby. A child I shouldn’t want but somehow desperately needed.

  “Lyrie,” Khal shouted. He bailed off the runner, leaving it to continue on its own.

  As I rose to my hands and knees, my breathing furious and my heart a solid lump in my chest, I assessed myself for damage. Nothing seemed broken.

  Khal ran up to me and dropped to the ground. “Please. Gods. Please.”

  The nightmare he’d lived with for sixteen years must be playing out in his mind. This time, however, there would be a different outcome.

  I crawled forward and gripped his shoulders, laying my head on his broad chest. “I’m okay. But we’ve got to get out of here.”

  We jumped to our feet and, hands clutched together, we raced for the cliffs.

  A trap. My steps slowed.

  Only shallow depressions in the sharp stone surface, the black holes I’d thought would provide sanctuary did not exist.

  No caves. No hiding until we could escape.

  To get away, we’d have to scale the wall. But, as we searched frantically for handholds, Hartlin and the guard sped close.

  A battalion of soldiers—and Smithton—were hot behind Hartlin, riding a fleet of runners.

  “No,” I gasped out, collapsing against the wall. We’d been so close we could taste our freedom.

  Fate could be cruel. She’d tempted us, only to take our future away.

  Khal held out his clasped hands, nudging his head toward them. “Step on. I’ll lift you up. You can grab on to something and climb.”

  And leave him here to face this alone? Never.

  “They’ll shoot me.” Defeat and rage rang out in my voice. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold on when we rode the runner.”

  Khal pulled me close, staring down at me as if memorizing my features. “It’s okay. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” If only I’d seen it sooner and told him. And savored every second we had together.

  The runners encircled us, fencing us in.

  “We go out together,” I said in a hoarse tone, barely able to spit th
e words out, because they tasted like defeat.

  Khal nodded, and his eyes glistened. “Together always.”

  “I wish…”

  Khal’s half smile made my heart split wide open. “Me, too.”

  “So touching,” Hartlin said, strolling near, his weapon held tight in his grip.

  Wise of him. If he wasn’t careful, we’d take it and use it, blasting away his brains first.

  We faced him side-by-side, fingers locked, our shoulders brushing.

  “Time to go back, Lyrie,” Hartlin said. No mention of Khal.

  I lifted my chin and growled. “You’re not touching our baby.”

  Supreme confidence leached into his voice and spread across his face. “I don’t believe there’s anything you can do to stop me.”

  Smithton came up beside him, leering at us. He licked his lips. “I’ll fuck her, boss.”

  Hartlin shook his head and sighed.

  Stupid and spineless, it was a wonder that Smithton had risen so high in the Regime ranks. Must’ve paid his way to the top, because he sure hadn’t gotten there on brainpower.

  “She’s already pregnant,” Hartlin said. “I checked the results myself.” His greedy gaze honed in on my abdomen.

  “Oh!” Smithton said, reaching for the blade he wore strapped to his waist. “Want me to cut her open, then? We can do a little extraction out here and leave their carcasses for the vipers.”

  No.

  Enough.

  It was time to end this. Now.

  Khal squeezed my fingers, telling me he knew what I planned and that he’d join me.

  I glanced up at him, hoping this would not be the last time I’d see my lover alive.

  And I shifted.

  As my skin split and my bones snapped and extended, my griffin rose to the surface.

  Eager. And full of vengeance.

  I crouched forward and shrieked out my pain. Dropping to my hands—paws—I unfolded my wings.

  And tipped my head back and roared.

  While shots rang out and screams for mercy erupted from the soldiers, Khal descended upon them in cheetah form. Snarling and snapping and tearing.

  Smithton hopped onto a runner with more coordination than I’d give him credit for. I frowned when a crafty look replaced the daft expression on his face.

  Had he been hiding all along?

  As Smithton sped away, I unfurled my wings and lifted off the ground. I dove toward a fleeing Hartlin.

  Blubbering and wailing, he stumbled backward, his rifle rising. He sighted down the barrel.

  How did this puny creature think he could best me?

  I dropped down in front of him and stalked, batting away his gun with vindication singing through my veins.

  This was for my mother. My father.

  My people.

  Knocking him to the ground, I pinned him with my claws sinking deep in his flesh. I snarled and let saliva drip onto his face like clear blood. And the endless tears I’d released as this man encouraged others to beat me.

  When he reached for the laser pistol strapped to his thigh, I ripped off his head and sent it tumbling.

  I staggered away as his corpse shot blood in broad arcs from the neck. Ever slowing.

  Shifting back, I hovered on my hands and knees, and my stomach heaved, over and over, until nothing was left inside me but dust.

  No. Not nothing. Because our baby was safe inside me. I cupped my belly for a moment and, eyes closed, gave thanks.

  Khal dropped down beside me in man form and laid his hand on my shoulder. Beyond him lay limp bodies of the soldiers he’d vanquished.

  No Smithton, though.

  “Sweetheart,” Khal said, his voice filled with endless sadness and love. He must know how it felt the first time you’d killed.

  Hartlin had deserved it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t question how excited I’d felt while dealing out death.

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  I crawled into his lap and, while he held me tight, I cried.

  It was finally over.

  #

  I soared over the desert, my broad wings sweeping grandly, taking me far from everything that had caused me pain.

  A series of thuds drew my eye, and I let myself drift down toward the cat pounding across the sand below me. My love. Khal.

  Sunbeams hit his muscled body, glistening on his spotted hide. His long legs ate up the clicks, easily keeping pace with my flight. The dark stripes on his face gave the impression he cried.

  But no.

  Neither of us would cry any longer.

  I tipped my head back and roared. My cheetah’s snarl echoed my call.

  Back arched, I reached for the sky, knowing I could climb as high as I pleased, and no one could touch me.

  Within a day, we approached the Resistance stronghold.

  Stopping and shifting just beyond view of those in the back Towers, we dressed and faced each other.

  We’d skirted around the Regime army who’d set up camp across the front of the main fence. War would be upon us soon, and we’d need to prepare.

  “Let me do the talking,” Khal said.

  “You know I’m with the Resistance.”

  “Yup.” Khal stroked my windblown hair off my face. Grinned and kissed me. We hadn’t been able to stop touching each other, and, with each tender stroke, we healed together.

  Peace filled me for the first time in ages, even though I knew it would soon be snatched away by battle, but I wanted to savor that feeling a little longer with Khal in my arms.

  Duty waited.

  “My friend, Herc, is bondmated to Maya,” Khal said when we’d pulled apart. “We might have to wait for him to come to the gate, but he’ll let us in.”

  If Maya was as happy with her bondmate as I was with Khal, we’d celebrate together.

  Hells, we’d celebrate anyway.

  “I think I’ve got a little in with the Resistance,” I said with a smile. My skin tingled, and I knew things would change for us soon, but hopefully, it would be for the better.

  My future lay beyond these walls, and Khal would stand tall with me.

  “I need to tell you something.” My voice rang out.

  Khal nodded.

  “My real name is Selina,” I said proudly, overcome with emotion, because finally, I was free.

  Khal’s eyes widened, but did he know who I truly was? Soon, I’d have to explain. To him, and to the world.

  I grinned. “And Maya is my sister.”

  Stay tuned for Book 4, ENDINGS, the conclusion of the CAT SHIFTERS OF AAIDAR Series, slated for release in January, 2019.

  If we can, we’ll get it to you sooner!

  If you want a sneak peek, turn the page and read the first chapter of ENDINGS, Jag & Aren’s story…

  ~Laney & Christina

  CAT SHIFTERS OF AAIDAR: ENDINGS

  Chapter One

  Jag

  A ren strode toward me along the rock-walled tunnel, her dark, cropped hair glinting under the solar-powered halolights set at regular intervals into the stone, the knife strapped to her thigh clinking against the sheath at each step.

  Once they’d realized we were firmly aligned with them, the Resistance had dropped their insistence on disarming all who entered their massive underground complex. Not that they could ever totally disarm a cat shifter; they could take our weapons but, with fangs and claws at the ready, Herc, Leo, Khal, and me were always prepared.

  Over the last couple of weeks, I’d learned Aren was always prepared, too. Not that she had any shifting ability, unlike Khal’s mate, Lyrie, but whether we were in the desert or the Resistance headquarters, she always carried the huge, curved Dragarian blade, revealed with each stride as her loose, desert-colored robe billowed around a lithe form that was far from soft.

  Despite the missions we’d run together, rounding up the Refugees—a scattered band over which Aren seemed to hold unofficial leadership—I’d yet to see if she knew how to use the knife.


  Everyone here needed to know how to fight. Time would come that she’d need to rely on that blade. Somehow, I’d have to figure a way to get her to allow me to instruct her, so she could at least protect herself when I wasn’t around.

  Glia had been at war for a decade, with the Queen publically beheaded by the resource-hungry alien invaders, the Regime. The Glian survivors had been torn apart, splitting into three groups; the Resistance fled to the desert, building an underground stronghold, where they’d been led by Lyrie for the last decade.

  Other Glians remained in the Regime compound, many clicks to our south, either working for the invaders, or barely subsisting as beggars and purchase-mates at the sleaze-easies that peppered the army base.

  Yet others, the Refugees, wandered the desert, unwilling to affiliate themselves with either the Resistance or the Regime. But, starving in the increasingly arid, hostile climate and decimated by disease and injury, they had, at Aren’s urging, slowly started to trickle into the Resistance stronghold. Most sought protection, but some were willing to join the war against the Regime forces, who now massed in a force of hundreds outside our guarded walls, preparing for one final purge of the Glian rebels.

  “Jag.” Aren nodded as she greeted me, though we’d only parted ways a couple of hours earlier, exhausted and dehydrated from our latest mission and sorely in need of a quick shower. Sleep would’ve been a welcome luxury.

  Damned if my heart didn’t kick as her green eyes roved over me. I could never tell whether she was checking me out as a man, or assessing what weapons I carried. Despite our many nights in the desert, her customary reserve meant I knew little about her, except what my own eyes told me; the nomadic life wasn’t what she was accustomed to, she had neither the carriage nor cunning of a natural hunter, a survivor. Yet there was an alertness, an underlying anger to her disposition, that made me wonder what motivated her. And, though she showed no overt control, her commands terse and almost disinterested, her people remained ridiculously faithful to her leadership, despite their lack of home or hope. As though they clung to the memory of a different woman, and trusted her to lead them in from the wilderness of their choosing.