by Hope Hart
Claimed by the Alien Warrior
Hope Hart
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Nevada
“Move that back leg.”
I adjust, nodding as I switch to a slightly more comfortable fighting stance.
The only difference between fighting on Agron and fighting on Earth?
The sword in my hand.
That hand trembles, and I scowl. Turns out my wrists are nowhere near as strong as they should be if I’m planning to wield a sword on this planet.
The Braxians are bigger than me, stronger than me, tougher than me, and usually faster than me.
The good news? I’m not planning to fight Braxians.
I’m going after the Voildi. They’re still bigger than us humans, but if I’m smart, I might at least have a chance.
“Okay,” Asroz says. “What are your three rules?”
“Strike first, think smart, and fight dirty.”
He nods. For whatever reason, Asroz has decided to train me. Most of the warriors here were amused and then appalled when I started learning how to fight with a sword. I think Asroz is also amused, but in his words, if I’m determined to learn, he may as well prevent me from waving my sword around like an asshole.
Okay, those weren’t his exact words.
I can barely lift the giant swords that these warriors carry. So Asroz kindly gave me a training sword. Yesterday, he finally sharpened it, and in theory, I should be ready to go.
Yeah, right.
We’re practicing with wooden swords for now, which is good ’cause otherwise I’d probably have lost more than one limb already.
“Why will you strike first?” Asroz asks.
“Because I need the element of surprise. No one will expect a woman to be any good with a sword. And once they decide to cut me down, I don’t have the muscle strength to absorb the force of an overhead blow.”
“Think smart?”
“Only attack if necessary. Plan, lay traps, and use my surroundings.”
“Good. And why will you fight dirty?”
I grin. Truthfully, I don’t know how to fight any other way.
“I’ve got hand-to-hand combat experience—something many creatures here don’t have. They’re used to relying on their swords. A hit to the nuts hurts the same whether you’re human or Voildi.”
“Good.”
I’ve been surprised by how seriously Asroz is taking this training. Most people assume he’s just indulging me, but he’s not an idiot. He knows I’m planning to go after our friends. And he’s hoping to give me the best possible chance of coming out alive.
“Time for your drills.”
I nod, ready. Unlike one would probably expect, most of my drills don’t involve using my sword at all. Instead, they’re all about speed. On this planet, the fact that I’m light on my feet is about all I’ve got going for me.
Unlike what I expected after a lifetime of watching Hollywood movies, blocking a sword is my last line of defense. Asroz has taught me some fancy footwork, and the goal is that I simply won’t be there when a sword is aimed at my head.
I raise my sword, and Asroz attacks. I’ve got a feeling he’s still nowhere near to using his full speed, but I’m definitely getting faster.
His strikes come one after the other, and I dodge, weave, and pivot, gradually moving backward until I can duck under his arm.
My sword comes up, and I slide it along his ribs. He stops and grins at me, pleased.
“Point,” he says. “But that should have been a thrust. I was off-balance, and my heart was right there.”
I blow out a breath. I’m a marine. I’ve seen combat. I’ve killed before. But the idea of sliding a sword into someone’s heart doesn’t come naturally.
“This needs to be instinct,” Asroz says, and I nod. Just like when fighting a guy who outweighs me on Earth, I have to be brutal. Flesh wounds are just going to piss them off.
And since the Voildi are usually in packs, I don’t have time to fuck around.
Sweat is dripping in my eyes by the time we’re finished, and I turn, not at all surprised to find an audience. Men outnumber women on this planet by ten to one, and the women? They wear dresses.
If I were running in a floor-length dress, I’d be guaranteed to faceplant.
The people here aren’t shy about staring, and while I used to make a point of meeting each of their gazes, now I just tend to ignore them.
The reason for the scandalized looks currently coming my way? The leather pants I’m wearing. Honestly, I’m not sure what offends the locals more—the sword in my hand, my filthy mouth, or the pair of Brexian pants I stole. Luckily, the seamstress seemed to find my request hilarious, and she’s currently working on another pair for me, along with some shirts.
I’d kill for a bath right about now. Sure, I’d rather shower, but you take what you can get in this place. I wipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, once again ignoring the eyes on me as I make my way to the mishua pen.
No point getting clean when I’m about to be working with the mishua.
This is my “punishment.”
A few days ago, I had a minor freak-out. I decided I couldn’t take the waiting around anymore and attempted to sneak out of the camp.
Truthfully, I’m glad I was caught. No, I didn’t enjoy the chewing out I was given by Rakiz, the tribe king, but leaving unprepared is a bad idea. I was planning to go on foot but quickly realized my mistake: I need to move faster.
I eye the mishua as I get closer. They’re not the most attractive beasts, but they can cover more ground in a few hours than I can in an entire day of walking. They’re intelligent, dangerous, and moody as fuck.
But you know what? So am I.
Mishua don’t tolerate females riding them. Personally, I wonder if it’s a chicken-and-egg situation. Maybe they’re just not used to females, since the women around here wouldn’t dream of riding alone.
Rakiz’s voice runs through my head as I open the pen and stride inside.
“You want to dress like a male and fight like a male? Fine. You can also work like a male. You will work with the mishua until I believe you have learned your lesson.”
I promised him he’d regret that decision. And it turns out that working with the mishua is good for me in two ways. First, it’s helping to strengthen my forearms and wrists, which is exactly what I need to wield a sword. But more importantly, I have the perfect opportunity to convince a mishua to let me sit on its back.
“Hi, girls,” I say as I stride through the pen. The mishua have gotten used to me already and pay me little attention, although a few of them snort at me as I get close.
When the Brexians saved us from the Voildi, I took one look at their mishua and dubbed them dino-horses. They’re lizard-looking dark-green creatures with mouthfuls of sharp fangs, horns covering their snouts, and huge heads. Oh, and weirdly, the bottoms of their legs are covered in thick fur.
The mishua have intimidating red eyes and bad attitudes. They’re fierce
in battle and can travel long distances without needing a break.
I’m pretty sure they can’t understand English, but I’ve been talking to them anyway, hoping they’ll get used to the sound of my voice.
“I’m getting better with the sword,” I tell one of them, and she stares at me for a moment, red eyes glinting, before she turns her back on me.
Yeah, it’s tough going. But no worse than the popular girls in high school.
Weirdly, the mishua that pays me the most attention happens to be Rakiz’s preferred mount. She’s bigger than the rest, and her eyes hold an intelligence that freaks me out ever so slightly.
“Hey, Racia. Wow, bet you’re bored in here, huh?”
She stares at me as I get closer, snorting at me in warning, and I stop in my tracks.
“Wow, someone’s pissy today. Probably cause you haven’t been out for a while. When was the last time you went out anyway?” I tut, shaking my head as if saddened. “It’s such a shame the king is always hanging around at camp. You must get so bored.”
On the off chance that the mishua can understand me, I want to sow the seeds that will one day make her tolerate me on her back.
I turn and mosey on over to the sleeping area, where I’ve stowed the huge shovel I was given. My task? Mucking out the mishua pen.
The tribe was astounded to hear about my punishment, and I’ve even caught regret in Rakiz’s eyes once or twice. But he’ll never go back on his word, and he may think this is the worst task I’ve ever done, but it’s not even close.
My uncle had horses when I was a kid, and he always made me muck out the stables in exchange for a ride. Poop doesn’t bother me. Although, these huge creatures produce more of it than any animal I’ve ever seen.
I lean over, ignoring the eyes on me as I get to work. The people here like to stare. I get it—I’m different. But it’s hard to plan my escape when I’m being watched like a hawk.
The good news? There are fewer people leaning against the fence than there were yesterday. Hopefully these people will get bored soon too and leave me alone.
While I can block out most of the attention, one hard gaze is more difficult to ignore. I look up as Rakiz walks past, his council trailing in his steps, and I sneer at him as he nods at me.
Rakiz may be the tribe king, but as I’ve told him before, that doesn’t mean he’s my king.
His eyes lighten with amusement, and I turn away. For whatever reason, out of all the huge warriors here, Rakiz is the one that makes my thighs clench.
I just don’t get it.
He’s bossy and overbearing and refuses to take me seriously. Due to the shortage of females on this planet, the males here seem to think that females should be coddled and protected.
When I tried to explain that I was more than capable of helping to look for our friends, Rakiz did everything but pat me on the head.
And then he had the gall to be furious when I decided to go on my own.
Shoveling shit gives me a lot of time to myself. Unfortunately, that means I have a lot of hours to think about my life on Earth.
I can’t stand the idea that everyone will think I went AWOL. I was on leave, visiting my friend Kat, when I went for a walk to get some air.
That’s the last thing I remember.
It was late at night, and I was wearing shorts and a tank top—more than most of the other women, the majority of whom were taken from their beds. I had my car keys and phone, and I hope to God someone found them deserted somewhere and everyone knows I was taken and that I didn’t just leave.
I’d never go AWOL on purpose.
I can’t think about that now. My focus has to be on finding the other women so we can get the hell off this planet.
Rakiz
I almost laugh as Nevada glowers at me. The human female is currently cleaning out the mishua pen, yet she still looks as arrogant as ever.
Something about this female calls to me—even though every time I spend more than a few moments in her presence, I feel the urge to shake some sense into her.
My punishment has not been well received by my tribe. Surprisingly, it is the females who have supported it the most. My warriors, however, are mostly shocked that I would give a female such physical work.
My reasoning was that Nevada would be so tired at the end of each day that she would no longer have the energy to make the kinds of plans that will get her killed.
Unfortunately, the hellion simply began training earlier with Asroz, and I strongly suspect she considers her work in the mishua pen to be an extension of her workout.
I almost groan as Nevada bends over, her well-toned ass flexing in her pants. Numerous females have demanded that I take those pants away, but watching Nevada stalk through the camp with leather hugging her long legs is one of the few pleasures I have. I’d be an idiot to take them from her.
Plus, she would likely attempt to castrate me.
I sigh as my councilors start again.
“Really, your majesty, I just think—”
“Enough.” I hold up a hand, wishing for nothing more than some peace and quiet. Truthfully, I’d rather be working in the mishua pen with Nevada than listening to the councilors’ complaints.
“You have more than enough time to bring these concerns to me during our meetings. Why must you follow me around camp each day like children following their mother?”
Silence surrounds me, and I sigh. I am growing short-tempered. The fact that a single female is responsible for my bad mood is not lost on me.
After her escape attempt, I ordered Nevada to sleep in my tashiv, which is the most guarded place in the camp. She refused until I threatened to tie her to me while I slept. Now she creeps into her furs on the other side of the room each night once she believes I am already asleep. Then she creeps back out before the sun rises each morning.
This morning, I didn’t even wake when she left.
My guards have been ordered to stop her if she attempts to leave again at night. Unfortunately, I don’t trust the hellion’s current good behavior at all.
I scowl as the councilor starts up again and move back toward my tashiv. I tune him out as I walk, nodding to my warriors as they head toward the training arena.
How can I convince the stubborn female that to leave this camp would be suicide? She believes that I’m not working to find her friends when my every decision is based on freeing up more of my warriors to hunt for the other females.
It still stuns me that such small females are here on our planet. If my men hadn’t seen their spaceship with their own eyes, I would struggle to believe that it exists. Unfortunately, as soon as the females landed, a pack of Voildi discovered the ship and convinced the females that they were saving them. The Voildi were leading them to certain death when Terex—the leader of my warriors—located them.
Now, four of the females are still missing—three of them likely still in the hands of the Voildi and one taken by Dragix, our great ancestor.
Our tribe is down to three human females, with the one known as Alexis choosing to exchange her freedom for information about the lost female. She has chosen to stay with Dexar, a warrior who can only sometimes be trusted.
My body tenses at the thought. When Asroz told me that one of the females had stayed…
I marched to my mishua, ready to drag Nevada back by her hair if I had to. It was a possessive, irrational reaction, and I still don’t understand it.
Neither do I understand the way I buried my hand in the stubborn female’s lush hair and took her mouth when I realized she had returned.
To me.
Chapter Two
Nevada
You know what’s good about being smaller than most people here?
It’s easier to sneak around.
On Earth, I’m on the tall side for a woman, coming in at five feet nine. Here? Everyone towers over me. The women have a foot on me, and the men? Even more. It’s like I woke up in the land of giants.
Usually t
his doesn’t please me. But today, the fact that I only come up to most warriors’ chests makes it easier for me to blend in.
“I heard they were taken to Nexia to be sold,” a warrior says, pouring another drink.
My chest clenches at the thought. We were already sold once—to horned purple aliens who crashed their ship, leaving us stranded here. Truthfully, that crash was probably better than whatever those assholes had lined up for us.
“Rakiz has already sent Tagiz and Hewex to make sure the slave market is still dismantled,” the warrior continues.
I’ve heard about the slave market. With females being so rare on this planet, we’re targeted by almost anyone. Leaving this camp is a risk, but it’s one I have to take.
Apparently it was Dexar who dismantled the slave market. He’s the one who held onto the information we needed until Alexis agreed to stay with him.
I barely hold back a snort, not wanting to reveal my eavesdropping. Alexis knows we’re coming back for her. Not only would I never leave without every woman who landed here, but as a mechanical engineer, she’s our best hope of fixing the ship we arrived in.
But where’s Nexia?
I have a map I’ve been working on using ceptri, which is similar to charcoal, and a piece of material. Each time I hear something I can use, I sneak back to the kradi I shared with Vivian and Alexis and add it to my map.
The other warrior snorts. “It may have been dismantled, but why would they be traveling through the Seinex Forest if they didn’t have to?”
The Seinex Forest? Where have I heard that before?
Shit, I can’t remember.
I mentally add it to my list and vow to ask someone about it later. Most of the warriors know exactly what I’m up to and won’t answer my questions—even Asroz. Oh, he knows what I’m planning, and I think the only reason he teaches me how to use a sword is so he’ll feel a little less guilty if I’m killed.
