by Rosalie Redd
Contents
Title
Copyright
Prophecy
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue
Author Newsletter
Coming Soon
Dedication
Acknowledgements
About the Author
UNTOUCHABLE LOVER
A Worlds of Lemuria: Earth Colony Novel
by
ROSALIE REDD
Copyright © January 2016 Rosalie Redd
All rights reserved. The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
For permissions contact: [email protected].
Cover Design: Fiona Jayde Media
ISBN: 9781944419004
United States of America
Prophecy
At a time of great strife and uncertainty
A stranger will come unto the Stiyaha realm
Misery, anguish, and fear will reign
The greatest of kings will fall to his knees
Life will be forever transformed, forever altered
The land of the Stiyaha will be no more
Prologue
Lemuria - a planet in the Orion constellation
Several thousand years ago…
Unease rippled over Alora’s skin, as much from her nerves as the cool wind on her arms. Her home planet, Lemuria, was dying. 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. The new world she’d found would help, but she had to know the outcome of her actions. She needed to see into the future.
The damp smell of decaying foliage wafted through the opening in the Rolmdew tree, her home on Lemuria. She stood beside the visus bacin and concentrated on the calm water, but the image wouldn’t appear. A headache pounded at her temple. Relax. Let the picture come on its own. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Her heartbeat slowed. Her muscles loosened. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared into the water in the visus bacin.
The liquid rippled against the bowl’s edges, faster and faster. The bubbling water echoed off the walls until the sound drowned her, captivated her in its intensity. The water stilled. An image appeared. A moonlit meadow surrounded by evergreen trees. Earth, her newly discovered planet. A whiff of pine and dew filtered into the room. She relaxed, letting the vision consume her.
Movement in the darkness caught her attention. A Gossum hid within the lower branches of a pine tree at the edge of the meadow. Its tongue snaked between serrated teeth, the creature sampling the air, as if searching for prey. She wanted to reach through the vision. Crush the creature’s skull in her hands. She hated the hairless brutes. As she looked closer, other Gossum crouched in nearby trees. Dread coiled in her stomach, making the hair on her arms stand on end. The foul creatures appeared to be waiting, watching. For what, she wished she knew.
The scene shifted. A tunnel appeared, carved from an ancient lava flow. Sunstones lined the passage’s massive walls. A red-headed female, her abdomen slightly distended from pregnancy, fled down the hallway. She glanced over her shoulder, as if someone or something pursued her. A babe’s distressed cry echoed off the walls. The vision faded.
Alora’s body shook. She stepped away from the visus bacin and lowered herself into a chair. Placing her head in her hands, she took in a long breath. She didn’t fully understand what she’d seen, but the powerful image was a bad omen. As with any future vision, it was uncertain. A series of choices dictated the future, and a different decision could alter the outcome.
She glanced out the window. The sun hung low in the sky. It’s this late already? She slipped her feet into her worn sandals and headed for the door, eager to get to the council meeting to stake her claim for Earth.
*****
Alora entered the council chamber through an opening in the Etila tree’s bark. The large room cut within the trunk creaked and groaned as the giant sentinel swayed in the breeze. Today, clear air filtered in through the openings, no trace of the haze caused by the devastating fires that had wracked their world.
Seated in sculpted wooden chairs, the Council of Nine chatted among themselves. Radnor, the council leader, sat in the middle of the long table that graced the center of the chamber. His short-cropped hair contrasted with the long 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 all her awards, she was the best Colonizer on the planet. She deserved the council’s respect. She strode toward the middle of the room, her chin held high. “Good afternoon, 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. The Council of Nine only discussed Colonization issues once a month. She was lucky to obtain the last open spot on the agenda. That she was late wouldn’t help her cause to secure Earth as a free planet. She stood tall, refusing to take the council leader’s bait.
“Councilor Radnor, I have a new proposal for a free world.” Alora kept her voice steady, despite the rush of blood pounding through her ears.
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 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, the
male she’d almost bonded to. 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.
Radnor raised two fingers in the air. The crowd quieted.
“Are there natives on this planet?” he asked.
“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 the male she’d rejected. 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 planets 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.
Radnor nodded. “Good choice.” He 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 sure 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, my lord.” Alora pushed the words 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. He’d cheat. 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 la
te 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. Although his short brown hair didn’t have any grey, 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.
