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Seized by the Alien: A Scifi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Titan Empire Book 3)

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by Tammy Walsh




  Seized by the Alien

  Fated Mates of the Titan Empire | 3

  Tammy Walsh

  Contents

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  1. Bianca

  2. Traes

  3. Bianca

  4. Traes

  5. Bianca

  6. Traes

  7. Bianca

  8. Traes

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  Conquered by the Alien Sneak Peek

  1. Prologue—Vicky

  2. Dyrel

  Also by Tammy Walsh

  About the Author

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  Bianca

  I cracked his skull so hard I thought I’d killed him. I didn’t know what the penalty was for killing one of these alien creatures but surely they would let me mount a case of self-defense?

  As Master’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he sailed in slow motion toward the bed, I wondered how my life had come to this.

  Until just a few minutes ago, I was scrubbing the floor of a filthy alien house somewhere in the galaxy. I leaned with my full body weight on the wire brush to dislodge as much of the dirt as I could. Three weeks now I’d been scrubbing that floor and it still looked like a dog had shat on it.

  I’d seen advanced vehicles whizz through the air on anti-gravity thrusters and slept in a cryogenic pod for days or weeks at a time and you were seriously telling me no one on this stir-crazy planet had thought to invent a better cleaning device than a wire brush?

  My hands hurt and the skin had long since turned dry and cracked. I’d always been proud of my hands. But that was when I’d been a teacher back on Earth. Not a slave in someone’s shithole house in the armpit of the universe.

  Thewwwwww!

  “Oh no, not again!” I screamed.

  I shuffled back on my ass as far as the restraint around my ankle would allow, held my breath, and pinched my nose.

  “What’s going on?” you might ask.

  Had someone just dropped a grenade?

  Had someone just tossed a smoke bomb in this one-room cockroach-infested shack?

  No. Stinky—that was the name I gave the dog-like creature that belonged to Master—had just let one go. I didn’t know what made the animal break wind like that but it sure couldn’t be healthy to make that kind of stench.

  Then again, Stinky was as alien to me as the rest of this world I’d been dumped on. For all I knew, these Titans might think he smelled like roses.

  The stink infiltrated my blocked nose and made my stomach churn. No matter how long I held my breath, I had to breathe in eventually. I covered my mouth with the crook of my elbow but it did nothing to stop the smell.

  Stinky raised his hairless head and cocked his head to the side. His three bulging eyes peered at me questioningly.

  “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what you just did,” I said.

  Stinky lowered his head and wagged his twin tails. The picture of innocence.

  The smell dissipated and I took a moment to clear my passageways. The stink had a habit of lodging in the throat and repeating on you when you least expected it.

  Despite his flatulence problem, Stinky was the best friend I’d made on this planet.

  In fact, he was the only friend I’d made. And that was probably the most depressing thing of all.

  For the thousandth time that day, I thought about my friends and where they were. The last time I saw them, we were in the minivan that plunged over a cliff and toward the bottom of a deep ravine. A bright white light froze the van in place and sucked us each up into the sky one by one, like plucking grapes off a vine.

  After that, I woke up in this shithole.

  Were my friends in the same situation I was? Fighting to maintain their sanity? Used as slaves to a merciless master?

  I had to balance most of my weight on one ass cheek to avoid the worst of the searing pain from the lashes Master had given me. Sometimes he wasn’t so accurate after drinking the night before.

  Serves me right for spilling soup on the floor.

  My vision turned blurry with tears and my head flopped forward on my arms.

  What had I done to deserve this?

  I’d been an elementary school teacher. My kids loved me. It hurt that I might never see their beaming faces again.

  When I turned in for the night, I often cried myself to sleep—silently. I wouldn’t want to wake Master. That would result in very harsh punishment.

  That was when the darkest thoughts came to me. That I was never getting out of here. I was never going to be free.

  I was going to be scrubbing this floor for the rest of my life, and it might end up being a very short one at that. All it took was for my drunken master to go off crazier than usual, for him to deliver a blow just a little too hard or at just the wrong angle, and it would be over.

  My hopes and dreams of escape, to return to Earth and my old life, would be dashed for good.

  I delighted in teaching my old students something new, something that sparked that look of pure wonder on their faces. When you worked around children, you never stopped being a child yourself.

  And I loved it.

  But those children might as well have never existed. They might as well be figments of my imagination.

  Escape had never seemed possible.

  For the first few days, I hollered for help. I screamed myself hoarse and I could hardly speak for two more days afterward.

  Not that not having a voice mattered. I didn’t have anyone to speak to except Stinky, and he only ever liked to respond from one end.

  So far as I could tell, the shack I occupied was in the middle of a desert. The view out the unbroken windows proved that much. I hadn’t so much as stepped outside when I woke up. I’d been trapped inside the entire time.

  For three weeks, maybe longer.

  And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fill that hole in my memory between when we got abducted and when I arrived in this place.

  I remember gulping a mouthful of oxygen. I had maybe a twenty-second window of opportunity to escape after I awoke and before they snapped that chain around my ankle.

  More than enough time to make a break for it. More than enough time to dash through that open door and try to find someone.

  But I’d just woken up like a hostage with the blindfold whipped off. I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing there. I was dazed, confused, and sick to my stomach.

  There was more than one man in the room. That was the first and only time it happened. I recalled a strange hat that bent back on itself and a bushy beard of white but I couldn’t recall a whole lot else about that other man.

  “Are we square?” the mystery man had said.

  “I suppose so,” Master grumbled.

  Then they smacked their chests with their fists, and it sounded to me like an auctioneer’s gavel.

  Then the man left and I fell unconscious again.

  “You’d best not be defective,” Master said, clicking his fingers in front of my face and slapping me on the cheek.

  He wandered off and left me after that.

  I didn’t come around again for a few more
hours and by then it was dark.

  That’s when I got a good view of where I was.

  It wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to be.

  I was in a hellhole of a room, chained to a pipe at the foot of the bed. My imagination flailed at what a man might want with me so close to his bed. I vowed I would bite his thing off before he put it anywhere near me.

  But I could only fight for so long. If he refused to let me go and I couldn’t get help…

  I would be his sex slave.

  I would be doomed.

  But he never touched me. Not like that. He was strict and firm and I thought he enjoyed beating me when I broke the rules—rules he never shared until he decided I’d broken one.

  It became so I didn’t dare do anything he might even consider breaking the rules.

  No matter how many times I asked how I ended up there, why he wanted me, he wouldn’t answer. He only said, “For now, your job is to clean.”

  For now.

  Those two words gave me nightmares.

  He never released me from my shackles. The chain was tough. No amount of filing was going to get through it. First, I didn’t have the right tools, and second, he checked it every day. If there was any damage I’d get beaten again. He’d only replace the chain with a thicker one.

  Then I heard the heavy rumble of a truck pull up outside. It wasn’t really a truck. It was a flying contraption with anti-gravity thrusters underneath. As advanced as it was, the cab was still rusted to shit and a crack splintered like a spiderweb across the windshield.

  It was still light outside. They must have kicked him out of the bar early today.

  I dropped to my hands and knees and scrubbed at that stained floor like my life depended on it.

  The car door slammed and Master stumbled onto the front porch, making the door rattle in its warped frame. He fingered the shutter as if he’d discovered the fountain of youth and pulled it open. He let it fall back into place as he stumbled into the room.

  Stinky was up in an instant, licking and whining pathetically for affection. He really did remind me of a dog.

  “I’ll start making dinner,” I said.

  Communication was possible only due to the translator strip on our throats. And those weren’t necessary with the lack of conversation we usually had.

  He grumbled something under his breath and fell on the sofa. They weren’t real words. Stinky jumped up beside him and licked him some more.

  I bent over to lift the bucket of water and dragged it toward the lousy kitchen around back. The chain attached to my ankle caught on the doorframe and I pulled it aside with a well-practiced tug. I couldn’t reach outside, so I had to pour the water down the sink. It wasn’t the most sanitary of conditions but I had no other option.

  I struggled to lift the bucket with both arms. I always did overfill it.

  My hand slipped and the bucket dropped.

  My eyes bulged at the approaching disaster.

  And the impending beating I would get for it.

  The water would wash over the floor in a flood. The bucket might crack. And I would be beaten so badly I couldn’t sit for a week.

  A strong pair of hands caught the bucket before my nightmare could materialize, and then raised the bucket to the sink and poured it out.

  Had someone slipped in through the back door and helped me? If they were that kind, maybe they would take pity on me and help me escape this place. Maybe—

  I was surprised to find Master standing over me. He finished emptying the bucket and placed it on the floor at my feet.

  Just because he averted the disaster didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish me for it. He wore a tight smile, slightly crooked from the alcohol he’d consumed.

  “Careful,” he said.

  Careful?

  Careful?

  Since when did he give a flying fig for me?

  They must have kicked him out very early today.

  Despite the fact he was out of shape, he was still stronger than most men back home. He wasn’t genetically gifted. It was because he was a member of the Titan race. They were physically powerful creatures otherwise similar to humans.

  I always got the sense something bad had happened to Master years ago, something that knocked him off track in life and he could never recover from it.

  Still, that gave him no right to treat me the way he did. Asshole.

  He brought his eyes up to meet mine. They were bloodshot.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “Sure.”

  What else did you say to a man who would bludgeon you if you showed him the least bit of disrespect?

  I lowered my eyes and turned away from him. I didn’t like to be so close. Pain always followed.

  “I should get back to tidying up,” I said.

  Then I felt it.

  Something grazed my ass and cupped one cheek.

  I leaped back.

  Master’s hand cupped the air, expecting my ass to be there. He seemed confused it wasn’t.

  Okay, so that was new.

  He’d never touched me like that before. I always got the feeling he was disgusted by me. He always looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his boot.

  But this time it was different.

  I’d never been more afraid of him.

  “What… What are you doing?” I said.

  “You cook and clean for me,” Master slurred. “I think it’s about time you performed other womanly duties.”

  He reached up to grab at my chest.

  I reacted without thinking and pulled out of his reach.

  In that moment, I knew I’d made a mistake.

  His face curled into a sneer and he balled his hands into huge fists. I’d never fought against him as he beat me before. It would only anger him and make him hurt me more.

  This time, with my act of defiance, I truly believed he might go too far and carry out that final act that would result in serious harm or even death.

  “You’re going to pay for that, girl,” he said.

  He slipped his worn belt from his baggy pants and bent it double. He approached me.

  I stumbled back into the front room, stepping on the chain. It bit into the soft skin of my feet. It clinked as I drew back, drawing tight. I’d reached the maximum distance of my confinement.

  “You’re going to give me what I want,” Master said, joining me in the room. “One way or another.”

  My hands found the handle of the mop. I didn’t know what I was doing with it. I had no plans.

  Instinct took over.

  As he drew his arm back to strike at me, my arms swung around. The handle collided with the side of his head. It struck so hard it snapped in half and clattered to the hard tile floor.

  He stumbled back and fell on the bed. He placed a hand to the side of his head. He looked from it to me and wore an expression of both shock and confusion.

  I gripped what remained of the mop in my hands, my arms surprisingly steady. The dirty water from the cloth sloshed over my arms and down my front. I didn’t take my eyes off him.

  Master leaned forward to get to his feet and scoop his dropped belt off the floor. His knees shook like he was performing a grotesque dance, before giving out beneath him completely.

  “You… bitch,” he managed before slumping over on the bed.

  Stinky leaped on the bed and peered at his fallen master. He looked as surprised as I was.

  I just stood there, watching.

  I let go of the mop handle. It fell to the floor.

  Had I really just hit him?

  Had I really just let him have it?

  I started to laugh, then blocked it with a hand over my mouth. Tears rolled down my face. Out of shock? Surprise? Happiness? I wasn’t sure. It was a noxious mix of everything.

  Was he really out for the count? Or was he playing with me? Was he lulling me into a false sense of security?

  Any minute he might attack me to within an inch of my life.

  I nudged
his knee but he didn’t stir.

  I jabbed him in the ribs and he grunted.

  So much for being dead.

  I dreamed of my escape, of returning to my homeworld. I swore I would never tell another living soul what happened here. This whole situation would become nothing more than a bad dream. And eventually, one day, maybe I would forget all about it.

  The abusive alien that worked in the mines and dug all day long, coming back smelling of cheap alcohol and dirt, would become a figment of my imagination.

  He kept the key to my release in his front pants pocket. So far as I knew, it was the only key in existence.

  A lump formed on his forehead. It made me feel good to see that.

  I had to get out of there. He would go crazy after he woke up. I couldn’t take the risk that next time he would be armed with a more dangerous weapon.

  Master had a bulge in his pants. I felt revolted at what it concealed. A present no lady wanted.

  I focused on the smaller bulge in his other pocket. The key. It was in there. I was sure of it. I saw him put it in there a week ago. He hadn’t changed his pants since then, had he?

  God, please let it still be in there.

  Master groaned and his eyelids flickered.

  I was acting too slow. I’d dreamed about this moment for weeks and now that it was here, I’d turned into a rock.

  Move!

  I picked up what remained of the mop handle and held it above my head. I edged forward. If he woke up, I’d bring it down.

  I patted his pocket and felt something in the bottom. I lay down beside him on the bed. I reached inside his pocket with a grimace on my face. The pocket was grimy with dirt. I wondered if he spent most of his days filling his pockets with the stuff.

  I pushed my hand a little deeper until my fingers met something hard. I grabbed it with my fingertips and pulled it out.

 

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