Unleashing the Beast: A Sci-Fi Alien Abduction Romance (Dark Moon Prisoners Book 2)

by Aline Ash

  “So, is that it?” she snaps. “You’re just giving up and you’re going to let the Gargolians win?”

  “What would you have me do, Eva?”

  She rounds on me, her face filled with a dark fury. “Fight. I want you to stand up and fight,” she roars. “Give that little girl some hope.”

  “Hope of what?”

  “Hope that she can one day live in a free world. “That she will not always be a slave to these fucking monsters.”

  Feeling my own anger rising, I stand and walk to the other side of the room. I can’t give any hope to anyone as I lost mine a while ago. I can't make a promise to that little girl, which I know cannot be fulfilled and will only fill her heart with despair.

  I lean against the door, cross my arms over my chest, and simply look at Eva. All of the rage and pain I’ve endured since the Gargolians came are now bubbling below the surface. They fill my veins with fire while at the same time turn my heart into a bitter block of ice.

  “My hopes are long dead, as well as should be yours, “ I tell her. “You did not see them attack my people. You were not there as they wiped out my clan. As I know, I am the last male of our kind. The last of the G’osha. Everybody else is probably dead.”

  “But the Tabiean people are not, Tulo,” she pleads. “And you can help them reclaim what is theirs. You can help drive the Gargolians out and take back your world.”

  My anger gets the better of me and I turn, driving my fist into the wall. A loud thud echoes around the room. I do it again, letting out a mighty roar. It’s pointless and I’m doing nothing but hurting my own hands as I bash the wall, but being able to physically lash out, to unleash some of the fury that has been flowing through my veins since the Gargolians first landed, feels nice.

  But as I punch the wall a third time, Daca’s face flashes into my mind. And along with it, my worries for her safety. If I were to do anything, they would kill her. Even though the old Wylto has a thing for herm, I have no doubt that my sins will be taken out on her. As that winds itself around my brain, my rage starts to lose steam. I lower my hands and stare down at the wall for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I turn and lean against the smooth surface.

  “Even if I was assuming that the escape is possible, it is not as simple as you seem to think,” I say. “They hold my sister. And they punish her for my misdeeds.”

  A look of sympathy crosses her face and she lowers her arms. The rage in her eyes subsides and she stands there, staring at me like I’m some damaged thing. Maybe I am. I don’t know.

  “I…I didn’t know that, Tulo,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”

  I nod but say nothing, a maelstrom of emotion and thought churning inside of me so thick, I can make neither heads nor tails of any of them. It is not that I do not want to see Tabia liberated. I might be shutting off those emotions forcefully so that I will not feel trapped and desperate all the time, but deep inside I still want to live in a world free of these Gargolian bastards. I want to walk among my mountains and breathe the fresh air up there. Now, with Eva by my side, this urge is stronger than ever.

  But the reality is, we do not have the strength or the weapons to beat them. If we tried to rise up against them, as fragmented and disjointed as we are, it would be a slaughter. It would bring the end of the Tabiean race.

  And as terrible as it sounds, as opposed to my nature as it is to live this way, under the thumb of a tyrant who controls every facet of my life, the truth is, living and getting to see my sister, and knowing she is still alive, is better than the alternative.

  “Now you know,” I say softly. “And now you know why I will do nothing provocative. They will kill her if I do.”

  Eva crosses the room and takes my hand. I let her lead me back to the bed, where we sit down. She turns to me, both hands still wrapped around mine, a gentle expression on her face.

  “I understand why you’re hesitant to join the fight.”

  “Do you?”

  She nods. “I do.”

  “It is too much to risk for a venture that is doomed to begin with. Better to know she lives.”

  Eva swallows hard and licks her lips. She looks down at our hands, seeming to be steeling herself, and then looks up at me.

  “Do you think this is how your sister would want to live? Do you think this is how she would want you to live?” she asks. “With a Gargolian boot on your neck?”

  I look away, unable to meet Eva’s eyes. In my mind, I hear Daca’s voice as she described the humiliation she’s suffered. Continues to suffer. And for the first time, I am forced to confront the question I have long been avoiding.

  Am I being selfish? Am I forcing her to live the way she is, simply because of my own fears for her safety?

  The truth is, we have never spoken about other alternatives. None of us could. But my sister is a proud Tabiean, a warrior. She always has been. She is one of the most formidable of all the G’osha fighters. So, am I allowing her to be diminished by forcing her to live in the conditions she endures?

  They’re questions I do not have answers to right now. All I know is that Daca is alive, and I want to keep her alive.

  “It is much to risk. I cannot put her life in danger, and I am unwilling to leave her behind,” I tell Eva.

  “I’m not asking you to,” she rebuts. “We can escape from here. We can take your sister with us. We can all get out of here. Together.”

  I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. “And likely get her - and us - killed in the process. I do not wish to have her killed. Daca needs me.”

  “I understand that,” Eva says. “But your people need you too, Tulo.”

  I shake my head. “You keep saying they are my people,” he snaps. “What makes you think I care about them? The flatlanders have never shown the slightest amount of respect for me or the G’osha. They have never tried to be one people with us.”

  “Have you ever tried?” she presses. “From what I understand, you and the G’osha hide in the mountains. You never came down to the flatlands. Never tried to be one people with them either. You just sit up there with the same disdain for them that you accuse them of having for you.”

  I clench my jaw, my hands balling into fists. I force myself to relax and open my hands, collecting myself. It is not Eva I am upset with. And I would be lying if I said I did not hear the truth and wisdom in her words. It shames me to admit, but she is right in everything she is saying. Even still, it is not so simple to disregard generations of animosity. Or if not animosity, then simple indifference.

  “As I said, I now understand your hesitance to do anything that would endanger your sister, Tulo. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my loved ones,” she goes on. “But believe me when I tell you, the clan chieftains have nothing but respect for you. And they believe you can help unite the clans… and with you, this war can be won.”

  I bite back the scornful reply that sits on the tip of my tongue. I have had very little to do with the flatlanders in my life. I’ve always found them to be a quarrelsome, squabbling bunch who could not come together to form an agreement on the color of the sky. It is one of the reasons why I have always preferred to stay atop my mountain.

  I shake my head. “I do not know why this is what they think of me. I do not know the their chieftains.”

  “They know enough about you and your powers to put their future in your hands,” she says softly.

  I look at her, holding her gaze for a long moment. “That is not a responsibility I have asked for. Nor one that I want. I know how to lead the G’osha people, but I know nothing about the flatlanders. They fear and despise my people and they will never accept me as a leader.”

  “If you ever gave them the chance, you would see differently,” she continues. “They do not hate you, Tulo. I don’t know where you got this crazy notion.”

  “You would not understand. You are not Tabiean.”

  Eva scoffs and shakes her head. My comment angers her again. But she does not know. Not being
from this world, she cannot possibly understand the politics of our people. But to be honest with myself, in that vein, I do not fully understand the politics of the flatlanders either.

  She lets out a frustrated sigh and looks away. The fire of her anger has faded, but in its place, I can see something else in her eyes. I see something that sends a lance of pain straight through my heart: disappointment. I do not know why, but knowing that Eva is disappointed in me, or that she somehow thinks less of me, is like a searing brand to my very soul. One that nearly steals my breath and twists that blade that is in my heart already.

  “Then I guess this is all there will be to our lives,” she says softly, gesturing to the room around us. “These four walls and nothing more.”

  I cannot meet her eyes as, for the first time in my life, I feel ashamed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eva

  “Hold still,” Dr. Ryz commands. It’s my regular visit to her, and the same test procedure I’ve endured numerous times already.

  I lay back on the table as she inserts a thick needle into my wrist. Gritting my teeth, I hiss as my body is lanced with pain. I watch as she draws what seems like a thousand gallons of blood from me before finally withdrawing the needle. I let out a loud gasp and grimace. Dr. Ryz, a tall, thin Gargolian with light-colored scales and dark lines down her body, rolls her serpentine eyes.

  “You humans are so delicate,” she says. “So fragile. I have no idea why Wylto thinks you will suffice.”

  Rubbing the spot she’d stuck me with the needle, I frown. “Suffice for what?”

  Her laugh is low and guttural. “That you somehow have the composition required for what we are looking for,” she says. “It’s laughable really.”

  I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”

  She does not answer, and I watch as she puts the vial of my blood into a machine. She taps some keys on the screen, and a moment later, the room is filled with the sound of a low, sonorous hum. I can feel the vibration on my skin, making me break into goosebumps. In some ways it reminds me of Tulo’s voice…that slow, delicious rumble that makes me tingle in all the right places.

  Things between Tulo and I have been slightly colder of late. Ever since we had the argument about his refusal to fight for the resistance, I’ve seen him differently. I know it’s not fair. I know he’s worried about his sister and what might happen to her if he takes up the fight. I get that. I really do.

  What I don’t understand, though, is how he can think that living this way, having his every move dictated to him by Wylto, is a life worth living. For both of them. He is a warrior. I assume his sister is as well. If the Tabieans I know and have grown to love are any indicator, they would rather die fighting on their feet, than live a life down on their knees. It’s a sentiment I share. After all that happened to me, after being a breeder to Bruc, I would rather be killed fighting for my freedom than continue to live as Wylto’s pet.

  I clear my throat and push those thoughts out of my mind. If Tulo is not on-board I am going to escape from this place alone. I am going to find my way back to Kon, Marissa, Ta’ra, and the others, and I will rejoin the fight. Hearing what I have heard, I do not believe Tulo will ever change his mind. He did not sound like a true leader, who could make a difference. He is a solitary man, and I do not believe the clans would unite behind him. But maybe Kon and the chiefs know better.

  Whatever. I tried to convince him, but I can’t force him to pick up the fight. If he wants to stay here in Wylto’s compound, withering and dying a little bit more each day, that’s his decision to make. But one decision that’s not his is how his sister chooses to live her life. I plan on giving her the option to go with me when I make my break for freedom. Whether he likes it or not.

  “You’re not pregnant,” Dr. Ryz announces.

  “Yeah, I could have told you that.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I take my computer’s word over yours.”

  I sneer at her. “Why are you so concerned with whether or not I’m pregnant?”

  She laughs again. “Because Wylto has a dream.”

  Dr. Ryz is very straight forward and to the point. She’s also unlike most Gargolians I’ve encountered in that she’ll actually speak to me almost like an equal. Granted, she believes she is superior to humans, and I’m a human she doesn’t particularly care for, but she at least talks to me. In fact, she’s downright chatty most of the time, often giving me her unfiltered opinions rather than the stony silence I usually get from the Gargolians.

  From everything she’s said in my near-daily trips to her clinic, I’ve gotten the impression she does not care for Wylto all that much either. She doesn’t like being a pawn in his games. But she does as she’s told all the same simply because her fear of him outweighs her disdain.

  “What is Wylto’s dream?” I ask.

  She laughs softly. “He wants to breed G’osha. With you specifically. Ever since they captured you, he’s been obsessed,” she says. “He’s tried to breed the G’osha with other species, but the seed never took. I have no idea why he thinks he’ll be able to breed the last male G’osha with you. You humans are far too fragile.”

  My mind immediately goes to Kon and Marissa and to the beautiful baby girl they have together. Does Wylto know about little Thana? But for whatever reason, Dr. Ryz doesn’t think it’s possible. The thought of the Gargolians getting their hands on Thana and doing these horrible experiments on her fills me with rage. She is such a beautiful, delicate little thing with the sweetest nature I’ve ever seen.

  Half-human, half-Tabiean, she has a mixture of both parents in her that makes her look exotic and strangely beautiful. Thana has a delicate frame much like Marissa’s, and the same wide, blue eyes as her mother. The leonine features she’s inherited from her father are softened, her ears smaller, and she is covered in an almost velvety deep purple fur. She’ll never be as large as a normal Tabiean, but she’s leaner, and has a more human body type. She’s striking. Or at least, she’s going to be when she grows up.

  “Why is he so obsessed with breeding Tulo?” I ask. “And why with me?”

  “The G’osha are known to have healing properties we couldn’t possibly hope to recreate in a lab,” Ryz says.

  “Is that all? It seems like it’s more than that.”

  “Well… you didn’t hear this from me, but he seems to think the offspring of a union between Tabiean and human will provide him with the right genetic material to treat the infertility of Gargolian females,” she says. “The White Monster has this unique genetic combination that allows him to treat injuries and even lethal diseases with his touch. Human women, on the other hand, are superior breeders and have dozens of other beneficial genetic components. Wylto believes a child born of you and the G’osha could be modified to produce biomolecules that will provide a cure for infertility and most diseases that infect Gargolians. He thinks it even might be a key to immortality.”

  “Immortality?”

  “It is a preposterous idea, no?” she laughs. “The scary thing is this is not his most outlandish notion.”

  “Wh-where would he have gotten these ideas in the first place?”

  She shakes her head. “Some of it is based on research conducted by scientists on our homeworld, though those studies are far from conclusive. Personally, I think it’s junk science,” she says. “And some of it is just rumor and legend.”

  “Rumor?”

  “There’s a story going around about a Tabiean rebel who impregnated one of your kind,” she explains. “I’ve told him more times than I can count that it simply isn’t possible. Your physiologies don’t match. But he doesn’t listen to me. What do I know? I’m only a scientist.”

  The bitterness in her voice is unmistakable, confirming my original thought—she hates him. But that doesn’t necessarily make her my ally. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend. She strikes me as a pragmatist, and somebody who will do what’s in her best interest. Which means I will
most definitely not be telling her about Thana. If she knew Wylto’s ideas aren’t as outlandish as she thinks, there’s no telling what she’d do.

  The one thing I do know about Gargolians is that they are vicious and cruel. And I have no doubt Dr. Ryz, despite her being so friendly-ish with me, would turn on me in a heartbeat. Especially if it helped advance her or earn Wylto’s favor. She may hate him, but she’s dependent upon him for a lot of things.

  “Sounds pretty far-fetched,” I agree with her, hoping I sound convincing. “Outlandish.”

  “Absolutely,” she replies with a nod, and then levels her gaze at me. “But tell me, why then do you mate with the G’osha? If you know you cannot provide him with offspring, why do you do it?”

  A small smile touches the corners of my lips as I say, “Because it feels good. Really good.”

  She cocks her head and stares at me. “Interesting. So you copulate for…pleasure.”

  I look at her. “You don’t?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t copulate at all. It is not something that interests me,” she replies matter-of-factly. “I have never desired offspring of my own.”

  I have long wanted children of my own. I’ve always loved kids. It’s what led me to being a teacher back on Earth. I just love being around them. Love their energy. I’d just never found the man I wanted to have them with. And after I was thrust into this world, having children has been the furthest thing from my mind. I’m just trying to survive here.

  However, between watching Marissa and Kon have Thana, and my growing feelings for Tulo, the thought of a family sparked once again in my heart. It’s a faint flicker, just barely glowing, but it’s there. The spark of hope I thought had been extinguished so long ago is surprisingly still inside of me.

  Those feelings will never come to fruition if Tulo chooses to remain here, locked up for the rest of his life. I cannot force him to go with me. Nor will I plead. If that is his choice, I may not like it, but I will have to respect it. Not that I have much of a choice in the matter.