The Lonely Orphan: The Lost Planet Series, Book Five

by Webster, K

  The Lonely Orphan

  Copyright © 2019 K Webster & Nicole Blanchard

  Cover Design: IndieSage

  Photo: Shutterstock

  Editor: Emily Lawrence

  Formatting: IndieSage

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  About The Lonely Orphan

  The Lost Planet Series Note

  Prologue

  1. Lyric

  2. Hadrian

  3. Lyric

  4. Hadrian

  5. Lyric

  6. Hadrian

  7. Lyric

  8. Hadrian

  9. Lyric

  10. Hadrian

  11. Lyric

  12. Hadrian

  13. Lyric

  14. Hadrian

  15. Lyric

  Epilogue

  Join The Faction

  Acknowledgments

  About K Webster

  Also by K Webster

  About Nicole Blanchard

  Also by Nicole Blanchard

  About The Lonely Orphan

  Our planet has hope.

  Still decaying and barely inhabitable, but ours.

  With the arrival of the females, we’re no longer lonely.

  Well, some of us aren’t.

  For the rest, we ache for what they have.

  Peace. Happiness. Love.

  But where the other unmatched Morts want a mate to call their own, I’m different.

  Life cruelly made me fall for the one person I’m not allowed to have.

  Bitterness and jealousy are my mates now.

  I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will always be alone.

  Until my commander sends me on a mission to rescue someone very important to his mate—her sister.

  A woman so different. So imperfect. So maddeningly defiant. Someone I have no interest in whatsoever.

  This feral female will never own my heart.

  Or so I thought.

  Love always has a plan of its own.

  Need to catch up?

  Start the Series

  The Lost Planet Series Note

  In the beginning, there were many who survived the initial blasts of radiation and the resulting catastrophic environmental disturbances. The morts, the only inhabitants of Mortuus, The Lost Planet, ever changed from the effects of the radiation, learned to adapt and, more importantly, to survive. In doing so, they became highly skilled and intelligent, capable of surviving even the worst conditions.

  The planet was dangerous and life wasn’t easy, but the morts had each other and that was all that mattered. They flourished in the protective shell of an abandoned building they converted into living quarters. Morts were given jobs, trained from birth in order to pass knowledge from generation to generation. Eventually, the morts hoped to extend the facility and conquer the wild, untamable outdoors.

  Then, disaster struck.

  The Rades, a disease contracted from complications of the radiation, began to infect increasing numbers of their population. First, there was fever, followed by sores, then finally madness and, inevitably, death. Quarantining the infected helped, but by then it was too late. Women, children, and the elderly, were the first to go. One by one, morts caught The Rades and died. Whole families wiped away.

  Until only ten males remained.

  Salvation came years later when the morts discovered a ship filled with aliens—female aliens. Knowing it was their only chance at survival, they snuck on a passing ship and brought five females home to study—and to breed.

  It was their only chance at survival.

  Four females have been claimed. One remains.

  The unmatched morts didn’t ever think they’d have a mate of their own. But the discovery of a prison full of females on the other side of Mortuus changes everything.

  Now, hope is all they know.

  Prologue

  Hadrian

  I was a happy mort.

  Playful. Fun. Adventurous.

  Until I saw my first alien female.

  The beating heart inside my chest thumped hard—so hard I worried I’d contracted a case of The Rades—when I looked at her soft, pale skin and her plump pink lips. I’d grown warm all over my body when I heard her voice. And when she spoke to me, I was completely enamored.

  I would do anything for her.

  Rekking anything.

  Problem is, she’s not mine. No matter how much I want her to be, she’ll always belong to the mort who I think of as a father. He claimed her as if my heart that beat only for her didn’t matter.

  And she claimed him too.

  They have a mortling together now.

  I press my clawed fingers to my chest where the ache won’t go away. It just burns each solar, hotter and more fierce. When Breccan told me I’d be leaving on this mission with Theron, I’d been furious. It took everything in me not to rage at him. I’m normally pretty in control of my emotions, but a few of my sub-bones popped upon his order, giving away my anger.

  He knows.

  I’ve teased him that if he ever goes to The Eternals, I will step in his place. But it’s truth. Some solars, I hate that I imagine a time when he’s gone and I must be her mate. It’s not that I wish Breccan gone, it’s that I wish Aria were mine.

  Simply thinking her name has a lump of pain growing in my chest.

  “Who kicked your rogcow?” Theron asks, sauntering into the control room of the Mayvina.

  I snort and stare out at the clouds beyond the glass. We’re traveling just inside Mortuus’s atmosphere, above the raging geostorms. Magnastrikes light up the red clouds below us. It’s peaceful up here. I’d worried I’d feel trapped or contained, but instead I can relax some.

  In the facility, I was trapped.

  It was worse than the time Breccan stuck me in a reform cell for two solars as punishment when I went swimming in the underground wells. I’d thought because I was nearly as tall as him I could knock him over and exert my strength. He quickly subdued me and locked me in there to “cool my rekking nog off.” Back then, only a few revolutions ago, I hated every horrible second while behind those bars.

  But nothing is as bad as being held in a building, forced to watch everyone around you fall in love, mate, and have mortlings. Worse yet, watch the one you love happy with her family.

  “You’re quiet and it’s unsettling,” Theron huffs, kicking my chair once he sits in the captain’s seat. “I thought you’d enjoy escaping Breccan’s grumbling and at the very least be entertaining to me.”

  I scowl at him. “You can’t force someone to be happy.”

  “Why aren’t you happy? We’re on an adventure, Hadrian. Above the clouds, we’re free.” Theron is beaming and thrumming with wild energy.

  “Do you ever get jealous of the other morts?” I ask, not meeting his curious stare.

  “Always.”

  I snap my eyes to meet his. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. One day, I hope I’ll find
a mate.”

  “I don’t want to find a mate,” I growl. “I want Aria.”

  His dark brows furl. “You know you can’t have Breccan’s mate. We’ve talked about this. Are you rekking mad?”

  “Jareth and Sayer share Grace,” I argue. “Why can’t he share Aria with me?”

  He lets out a ragged breath. “Hadrian, there’s a difference.”

  “How?”

  “Rekk, you really are young.”

  I don’t remind him that four solars ago—when we embarked on this journey—I turned eighteen revolutions. In the hustle to get out and on this mission, no one remembered. Not Breccan. Not Aria. No one.

  “I just don’t see the difference,” I mutter, already feeling defeated.

  “Grace chose them both, but…”

  He doesn’t have to say it.

  But Aria didn’t choose me.

  She chose Breccan and only Breccan.

  The pain swells inside me.

  “You can’t keep going on like this,” he says. “Wishing for something that will never happen. It’s not right.”

  “I know,” I mutter, the words bitter on my tongue. Truth is, I don’t know. I can’t change the way I feel. I’m simply destined to ache for something I’ll never have.

  “Oh,” Theron says, pulling something from his breast pocket. “I forgot to give this to you.” He tosses me a folded paper, and then swivels around in his chair so he can mess with some dials on the comms unit. The video screen is scrambled with white static.

  I pick up the paper from my lap and unfold it. In our language, but Aria’s handwriting, I read the note.

  Hadrian,

  Look! I can write Mortuuan! Well, not really. Uvie is helping with this endeavor, but maybe one day I can do it on my own so I can teach Sokko and the others both English and Mortuuan. Anyway, I’m writing this to tell you happy birthday! Eighteen! I remember eighteen…I was drunk and it was terrible, but I got a new car, so that was fun. But I immediately wrecked it, so that was not fun. Thank God you don’t have alcohol here.

  I digress…

  The point of this letter is to let you know that I love you like the brother I never had. You’re the best uncle to Sokko, and you’re the best son to Breccan. What you’re doing for me and Molly by going to Exilium to look for my sister and Willow is beyond brave and admirable. You’re a good man, Hadrian. One day you’re going to make the right woman very happy.

  I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

  Name one of the stars in the sky for me.

  Love,

  Aria

  I fold the letter and run my thumb claw over the top. She wrote a letter just for me. My heart races a little at that notion. But it’s once again clear she has no interest in me, comparing me to her family, not her mate.

  My gaze travels to the brightest star above us. I silently name it Aria. The one next to it barely flickers. I name that one Hadrian.

  “Warning,” a voice belts out from the comms. “You have breached protected air space.”

  I sit up and jerk my nog toward the screen. Theron scrambles to mash buttons. A person wearing some sort of black mask fills the screen. It’s most definitely female, but muffled.

  “Show your faces,” she orders.

  Hadrian and I exchange a look before leaning in to take a closer look.

  “More of the monsters,” she hisses to someone. Then, she practically growls at us. “Turn your vessel around if you want to live.”

  “Listen, female,” Theron starts.

  “No,” she snaps. “You listen, asshole. You’re to turn your ship around right now or I’ll have my friend blow you out of the sky.”

  “We come in peace,” I try. “On a mission from my commander and his mate. We’re looking for her sister. Perhaps you could help us.”

  Someone whispers to her nearby, but she waves the person off.

  “Sister?” she asks, her brave tone wavering.

  “Her name is Aria and—”

  “Lyr, no!” the person off screen cries out.

  The woman pulls off her mask and I’m struck dumb. The one staring at me is her. Aria. The one I love. My heart slams against my chest, aching to jump right through the screen to get to her.

  “Aria?”

  Theron whaps me. “No, you empty-nogged mortarekker! It’s Limerick! Her sister!”

  “You know my sister?” she demands, her eyes flaring with anger and distrust.

  Her lips. So full. So familiar.

  “Like my friend here said, we have Aria at our facility and—”

  “I want to talk to her. Now.”

  “Listen, Limerick. I know all about you—”

  “It’s Lyric and you don’t know shit about me.”

  Oh, but I do. I know exactly how she got that nickname too. Rather than continue to waste everyone’s time, I flash her a smug smirk. One that says, “Yeah, I know because I’m your sister’s best friend.”

  “You will release her to me,” she commands, her voice authoritative like Breccan’s.

  “We’re not releasing her anywhere, Lyric,” I growl. “She’s ours.”

  Theron shoots me a hard look, which I ignore.

  “Yours?” Lyric’s nostrils flare and her lip curls up.

  Mine.

  “Yes, ours,” I challenge. “And we’re going to make you ours too.”

  Fury morphs her face into one of rage, but then she wipes it away with a sinister smile. “Well, since you asked so sweetly. Just the two of you handsome fellas on that ship?”

  “Just us,” I tell her.

  Theron shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “Unbelievable.”

  “You’re cleared to land,” she says, her voice deceptively calm.

  “They’re going to kidnap you,” someone whispers to her.

  Lyric leans away from the view of the camera and whispers back, “They can fucking try.”

  Kidnap isn’t a word we morts knew of, that is until the aliens started throwing it around. It means to take to the facility and keep them as ours. We’re definitely kidnapping Lyric and Willow. They should be pleased to be kidnapped and brought back to their families.

  “Yes, kidnap,” I confirm. “We’ll be kidnapping you and Willow both. The others are none of our concern.”

  Someone shrieks near Lyric and she comes back on screen, her eyes flashing in a challenging way. “Is that so, monster man?”

  I flash her my rogstud horns with my fingers, a gesture meant to make those around me calm and sometimes laugh. “We’re on our way, alien.”

  “Alien?” she scoffs, narrowing her eyes at the movement.

  “Do you see any other aliens around?”

  Her nostrils flare, but then she takes a deep breath and calms. It appears I do have Breccan’s flare for diplomacy after all. She smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “The whole alien gang will be here ready to give you a warm welcome. Bye, boys.”

  The line goes dead.

  “I got a bad feeling about this,” Theron mutters, shooting me an annoyed glare.

  I tuck away my letter, ignoring his hunch. “Let’s go kidnap some females.”

  So I can get back to mine. Aria. The mate I’ll never stop longing for.

  This mission no longer feels like a punishment. It will be a reward the moment I retrieve the females and bring them back to Aria. She’ll hug me and I’ll nuzzle her hair, inhaling her unique scent. It’ll be the most wonderful gift a mort could receive.

  Happy rekking birthday to me.

  1

  Lyric

  Meanwhile in Exilium…

  “We’ve got company.” Willow lifts her head from the screen, her long red hair curtaining her worried features. “They’re coming from the mountains.”

  I look up from the papers scattered over my desk. “The mountains? How’s that possible?” There’s nothing in that direction but wasteland and lava swamps that we’ve been able to see from the limited views from the
windows. Behind us is a never-ending sea.

  “Are they from the space station?” Zoe, our de facto nurse, squints at the screen next to Willow. “The ship doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before. What do you think, Lyric?”

  “I think I don’t care who it is, as long as they turn their asses around and leave us the hell alone.”

  This is the first communication we’ve made with anyone. Ever. Not long after we became the leaders of this place and had barely begun to reach out to look for others, including Willow’s mom and my sister since they weren’t at the prison as expected, a massive storm hit, destroying something critical in our communications systems. We haven’t so much as been able to contact anyone or anything beyond the prison. Every effort to make contact has been met with static.

  “Let them come,” Zoe hisses. “We’ve handled worse than a couple of pilots.”

  “We’re in no condition for another war,” I remind her. We lost enough when we took over the prison. The last thing we need is a fight, but if that’s what these intruders want, we’ll give it to them.

  I didn’t intend to become a leader. All I wanted was to find my sister. When I was a teenager, I lost her, and I vowed I’d find her again if it was the last thing I did. When we were growing up, it was always Aria who shielded me from our abusive parents. She sacrificed herself to the vicious hands of our father, and then to the whims of the masses to make sure I was taken care of. Aria had always taken care of me.