Alora's Love Potion; Short Story Collection

by Rosalie Redd

  “I can handle Zedron.” Her fingers squeezed the back of her scrying chair. The wood strained and creaked beneath her grip.

  Veromé’s face paled. “There will be serious consequences if you do this. We’ll both pay the price.”

  “No one but us needs to know. Besides, we’re running out of time. Our year is almost over.”

  “I can’t let you do this. The risk is too great.” He grabbed the pitcher and held it out of her reach. The green liquid swished from side to side and came close to spilling onto the wood floor.

  Alora gasped. “Give that to me!” She clawed at Veromé’s arm, trying to reach her potion.

  With his free arm, he stretched for the small vial. She knocked his hand out of the way, but in the process the small tube landed in the water in her visus bacin…and disappeared. The last time she’d used the magical bowl was to watch her warriors on Earth. The vial could land anywhere. Her stomach knotted at the thought.

  The sun broke over the mountain, and she couldn’t ignore the tug on her body. She faded into her dark place, the one she went to every time the sun crested into the sky. Her last image—Veromé’s determined blue eyes as he poured the remaining solution out the window.

  UNTOUCHABLE LOVER INTRO

  PROLOGUE

  LEMURIA - A PLANET IN THE ORION CONSTELLATION

  SEVERAL THOUSAND YEARS AGO…

  The wind whipped through the Etila trees, raising the hair on Alora’s arms. The platform connecting the large Lemurian giants swayed under her feet. On the forest floor below, the howl of Rhondo beasts echoed through the branches. She coiled her fingers around the railing, but the comforting movement didn’t slow her racing heart.

  Her gaze drew to the words carved over the door in the Etila tree’s trunk—Council Chamber. Voices from inside the room slipped between the cracks in the wood. With a bitter determination to save her dying planet, Alora pressed her hands against the door’s rough exterior and pushed. The door whooshed open and light spilled onto the platform, a beacon in the darkening twilight. She inhaled and strode into the room.

  Seated in sculpted wooden chairs, the Council of Nine chatted among themselves. Radnor, the council leader, sat at the end of the long table that graced the center of the chamber. His short-cropped hair contrasted with the long, pointy ends of his black mustache. He twirled the thick strands between his fingers. The council members carried on with their conversations, seemingly oblivious to Alora’s arrival.

  That won’t do. According to her awards, she was the best Colonizer on the planet and deserved the council’s respect. She strode toward the middle of the room, her chin held high. “Good evening, council members.”

  Radnor pursed his lips. “Alora, glad to see you could make it.”

  A dozen Colonizers, standing in small groups, quieted as everyone turned their attention to her.

  Alora stood tall, refusing to take the council leader’s bait. “Councilor Radnor, I have a new proposal for a free world.”

  Radnor raised an eyebrow. “Come forth. Tell the council about your discovery.”

  Alora scanned the faces of the others in the room, aware she had their full attention. She stiffened. A familiar male stood close by, dressed in a gray tunic that hung from his broad shoulders. His brown hair cascaded over the back of his neck—Zedron. She should’ve known he’d be here. Pain radiated into her cheek from her clenched teeth.

  She focused on the council members. The Council of Nine contained three members from each faction: free, slave, and neutral. They were Lemurian, just like all the other beings on the planet, but these males and females were granted special authority from The Three Creators, passed down from generation to generation. Their job was to uphold the laws throughout the population and to ensure the Colonizers followed the rules when new planets were discovered.

  Alora inhaled a deep breath and pulled a small carton from her satchel. The box opened with a creak. Tratee flies dashed into the air. They circled above the crowd until a form took shape, that of a blue planet with white caps on either end. She peered at the group. “Behold, Earth.”

  Council member Tomra gasped. “Beautiful. What does this planet offer?”

  “The blue you see is what we covet most—water.” Alora held her tongue, waiting for a response.

  Excited murmurs from everyone filled the room. Alora’s lungs expanded at her good fortune. Without water and other precious resources, Lemuria and all her inhabitants would perish within the next few decades. As a colonizer, Alora and those like her needed to find a solution—new planets, ones with the needed supplies.

  Radnor raised two fingers in the air. The crowd quieted. “Are there natives on this planet?”

  “In the depths of my scrying bowl, my visus bacin displayed a semi-advanced race—humans, a species not unlike ours in bearing and appearance. We can barter knowledge and technology for water.” Unable to contain her eager grin, she approached Radnor. “I stake my claim for Earth as a free planet and request a vote.”

  “Wait.”

  Zedron’s harsh tone startled her. She tensed and faced him. He strode to the front of the council chamber, his muscles bulging beneath his tunic. Red and orange swirled across the fabric, evidence of his anger.

  “As a member of the slave faction, I put forth a challenge for this planet. I, too, discovered Earth within the past week.” His eyes narrowed, and he tightened his lips.

  Alora didn’t believe him. “Prove it. Where is this planet located?”

  “At the far end of the twelfth quadrant in a galaxy with a single sun.” He winked at her.

  He’s goading me. The twinkle in his eye reminded her of how much she used to enjoy his playful banter. She’d almost picked him as her mate. That would’ve been the worst mistake of her life, for he would’ve made her miserable. That she’d once fallen under Zedron’s false charm and considered bonding to him made her breath catch. She opened the box for the flies to return, closing Earth’s image.

  “You’re doing this to spite me.” When she’d refused his bonding offer, he hadn’t walked away with grace and honor as she’d expected. Instead, he’d vowed revenge against her and her chosen mate, Veromé.

  “This isn’t about you, Alora.” He dragged out her name, his words full of venom. “The humans won’t give up their resources. They need to be enslaved.”

  His willingness to fight for Earth was an indication of his bitterness. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of yet another planet enslaved. She hated slavery and had vowed to protect as many worlds as possible.

  “The planet should be free. I ask for an immediate vote.” Alora spoke fast, hoping the council would grant her request but knowing it wouldn’t happen.

  “A challenge has been issued. Proper protocol dictates there will be no vote. You will battle to claim the world. Select your weapons.” Radnor stood slowly, his body ravaged from old age.

  A small table attached to the wall expanded in length and breadth. A character board shimmered over the grain, showcasing different species of warriors.

  “Females first.” Zedron extended his hand and gave a brief bow.

  Alora curled her lip at him then turned to study the board. Three dozen characters stared back at her, each with different strengths and skills created solely for the purpose of the game. As part of the rules, she couldn’t select more than six.

  “I select Stiyaha for strength, Panthera for speed, Jixies for resourcefulness, Camelioscapes for stealth, Aves for cunning, and Ursus for tenacity.” Her heart picked up speed.

  “Good choice.” Radnor glanced at Zedron. “And you?”

  Zedron didn’t even look at the board. Instead, he stared right at her. As much as she wanted to glance away, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

  “Gossum for resilience, speed, and fortitude. Arachs for cunning and durability. I have no need for others.” He waved a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.

  Radnor nodded. “I’m su
re you haven’t forgotten the rules, but I will remind you. As long as the war continues, free will is the primary law. You may offer guidance, but you cannot interfere with your warriors. Your visus bacin won’t work on each other. You may only see what the contestants do on both sides of the war.” The council leader glanced between her and Zedron.

  “Contestants may contact humans for trade as long as the natives do not discover the Lemurian’s true identity. Humans can become warriors in the game, but they must be transformed into a competitor. Once changed, humans may not return to their former lives.”

  Radnor’s gaze bore into Alora. She swallowed but refused to look away.

  “The council will assess sanctions should you violate the rules. The winner of the war will decide whether Earth becomes a free planet or is enslaved. Time is relevant. This war must be resolved within one Lemurian year or the council will select a winner based on your performance. How much time does that equate to on Earth?”

  “An Earth year, the time it takes for the planet to go around its sun, is but a moment or two in our world. One Lemurian year would be twenty-thousand years in their cycle.” Alora inhaled a breath and held it. She needed to control her building anger before she did something she would regret.

  “Questions?” Radnor asked.

  “None.” Alora pushed the word out through gritted teeth.

  “Nor I.” Zedron inclined his head to the council leader.

  “Very well, the war is on,” Radnor said.

  Alora glanced at Zedron. His gaze wandered down her body and back to her eyes. Heat crept up her neck and to her face. The burning desire to punch him made her fingers clench into a fist. She hated him for dragging her into this war. Her body shook, but a new determination solidified in her soul. She’d do everything in her power to secure a victory, even if it meant breaking the rules.

  CHAPTER ONE

  SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST MOUNTAINS

  PRESENT DAY

  Stale air and mildew assailed Melissa’s nose. She tried to swallow, but the thick smell coated her throat. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes. Light blinded her, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her skull. Where am I?

  She stood erect, her backside pressed against a solid, cold surface. Dampness coated her skin. A thin line of drool spilled from her mouth and onto her chin. She raised her hand to wipe the wetness away, only to discover chains bound her wrists. The iron manacles rattled, echoing off the cement walls. A drop of fear weaseled its way into her mind. She inhaled, and a wave of dizziness passed over her.

  The pungent smell of rubbing alcohol filtered into the cell, the telltale sign of Gossum. Melissa’s throat constricted, and she gagged. She’d never get used to that stench, not as long as she lived. She winced. That might not be for much longer.

  Memories of the Gossum attack raised her pulse and made her shiver. She didn’t want to think about why this had happened, why she’d left the safety of her Pride, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her heart clenched, and she choked back a sob.

  She’d left Denver in search of another Pride, one where maybe, just maybe, she’d be accepted for who she was and not ridiculed for being different. As the only Dren in recent memory to conceive and birth a child, the rest of the Pride either hated her from petty jealousy or wanted to own her. She’d traveled as far as Portland, Oregon, before her need to feed drove her to seek a human male.

  Luring a man out of a grocery store late at night, she couldn’t bring herself to drink from him. He would’ve found the sensation pleasurable, and she wouldn’t have taken enough blood to kill him, but the human frailty reflected in his eyes, and his likeness to William, her dead mate, had squashed any desire of feeding. She’d fled the scene as far as her feet would take her.

  Her enemy found her as she’d stumbled into the warehouse district. Weak from her unwillingness to feed, she wasn’t able to maintain her shield. They’d caught her between the old brick buildings. She shuddered at the recollection.

  Denver seemed so far away. A ball of regret grew in her stomach. If she’d stayed, she’d be Demir’s concubine by now. As ruler of the Pride, he’d wanted her to come to him on her own. When she hadn’t, he’d become so enraged she’d feared for her life. What would become of her now? Despair lodged itself in her chest, festering, building until a layer of sweat coated her body.

  “Don’t fear. They can smell it,” a masculine voice said. “They’ll be back soon enough.”

  Across the room, a tall male stood shackled to the wall. Not only did he have arm and leg chains, but cuffs surrounded his neck and torso as well. One arm had a design etched into his skin that ended with four dark lines down the back of his hand. Intelligence shone from one pale blue eye. The other one was darkened with bruising and swollen shut. He looked like he’d seen more than his share of pain and heartache. His short brown hair had a spot of grey, and the lines in his face indicated he wasn’t young. Neither Gossum nor human, he was a species she’d never met.

  “Who are you—and where are we?” she asked.

  “I’m Gaetan. We’re in the Gossum’s care, so to speak.” His voice was rough, strained.

  “Why capture us? Why not just kill us?” The bastard Gossum killed her mate and young son the year before. Her mind fought the horrific images and memories, anything to stop her from going insane with grief. She bit the side of her mouth to stifle a wail of sorrow. Still, a soft whimper escaped.

  “That is the question of the hour,” he said.

  Cuts and bruises marred his arms and legs. When he breathed, his breaths were shallow as if he were in great pain. His left leg was smaller than his right and misshapen, forcing him to lean to the left. They had tortured him. When would they come back to finish the job?

  Footsteps approached from the hallway. She tensed, and her pulse pounded in tune with each step.

  A Gossum’s massive body filled the entrance to her cell. The light from the corridor illuminated him from behind, and his face was a mask of shadows. He snickered. The low sound chilled her arms.

  The large male stepped into the chamber, and his features became visible in the dim light. His grim face accentuated his bulbous nose. The brim of his cap covered the back of his neck.

  From prior experience with Gossum, she knew he wore the hat to hide his bald head and the beginning of the hard scales that ran down his back. Although once human, he no longer required his eyelids to protect his hard, lizard-like, black eyes. They reflected the light with an eerie shine.

  “Ah, good, you’re awake. Are you ready to chat?” His menacing voice rasped with venom.

  Melissa clamped her lips tight. The steady drip of water nearby echoed against the bare walls. Her damp hair hung in her eyes, the bitterly cold strands clung to her cheeks and arms.

  His face turned red at her silence, but he remained calm. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His yellow and black high-tops stood out like a beacon. He could still pass as human, given the right clothing to cover his hairless body and neck scales.

  “Ignoring me won’t help your cause,” he said.

  “Don’t give in to his demands.” Gaetan pulled against his chains.

  Their jailer sauntered over to Gaetan. “Still with us, I see.” He touched Gaetan’s face, raking a claw over his cheek.

  Gaetan snarled, and his good eye glowed with specks of gold.

  “Oh, yeah, we’re making progress.” The vile creature chuckled. He turned toward Melissa, and a chilling smile revealed his serrated teeth, the ones he hid from the humans.

  She shivered at the sight. Her life couldn’t end this way, at the hands of her enemy. Memories of Seth and William raced through her mind, and a knot of determination formed in her stomach. She would fight for them, to honor their memory.

  She yanked on her chains but only succeeded in opening cuts on her wrists. Blood trickled over her arm and dripped onto the concrete floor. She wanted to scream her rage at the Gossum, but she held her anger in check, bare
ly.

  Like a black cloud, their captor’s presence filled the room. Even in his nonchalance his gaze pierced her, held her in place, while a cool bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. She feared him, but she wouldn’t give her tormentor the satisfaction of seeing her weakness.

  “Tell me your name, my dear.” His soft and encouraging voice belied his evil intent.

  She refused to speak, and instead, raised her chin.

  “C’mon now, how is telling me your name going to hurt?” The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile. He returned to Gaetan and pointed, a claw extending like a crooked tree branch from his bony finger near the prisoner’s good eye. “I like the sound of his howl. Would you like to hear it?”

  Heat flushed through her body. Hatred burned in her gut for what they’d done to Gaetan. She wouldn’t be the cause of more pain.

  “Melissa,” she spat. “My name is Melissa.”

  “Ah, much better. My name is Ram. Now we are acquainted.” Ram placed his index finger next to his mouth and looked at the ceiling. “So, Melissa, about that shield of yours. I could do so much with it.”

  Melissa flinched at the mention of her gift. She tried to power her energy, but there wasn’t even a spark. She held Ram’s gaze and struggled to control her shaking knees.

  “It’s too bad I need you alive to get your blood. Lemurians disintegrate so quickly once dead that I can’t get it fast enough.” Ram tsked. “So, I’ll give you a chance to cooperate.”

  “I won’t give my shield to you.” Melissa curled her hands into fists. He wanted her magical power, but no way would she give her special skill to the enemy.

  Ram’s smile turned into a grimace, and his easygoing demeanor evaporated. He became rigid, his muscles bunching in his arms and legs. His elongated tongue whipped in and out of his mouth, the dangerous spur at the tip coming close to her face.