by Luna Hunter
Tamed by the Zoran
Zoran’s Chosen Book 4
Luna Hunter
Copyright 2018 Luna Hunter.
Published by Luna Hunter at Amazon.
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is property of Luna Hunter, please do not reproduce illegally.
Contents
Blurb
1. Takara
2. Rinor
3. Takara
4. Rinor
5. Takara
6. Rinor
7. Takara
8. Rinor
9. Takara
10. Rinor
11. Takara
12. Rinor
13. Takara
14. Takara
15. Rinor
16. Takara
17. Rinor
18. Rinor
19. Rinor
20. Takara
21. Rinor
22. Takara
Also by Luna Hunter
Her Chosen? Her number one rival.
Takara King is the first female contestant in the Titan Games -- and she plans on winning the whole damn thing. All her life she's trained for this moment. Nothing can get in her way.
Except for Rinor. The reigning Grand Champion. The arrogant, cocky Zoran with a body to die for.
He claims that she is his Chosen, and nothing she says can convince him otherwise.
Will Takara resist the ripped warrior... or will she give in to his advances?
Unbeknownst to them both, the fate of New Exon hangs in the balance...
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Chapter One
Takara
I blow a violet curl out of my eyes. My dark hair has suddenly taken on some colorful highlights, ever since the Rift appeared.
The commentators on the ’feeds think I’m doing it for ‘market appeal’. To attract a ‘younger demographic’.
I’ll let them think whatever they want. Either way, their theories are much better than the truth, which is I have no control over it and I fear I’m losing my damn mind.
I pop a Kavik nut into my mouth and try to ignore the dark thoughts at the back of my mind. I’m here to scout the opposition. Better get to it.
Tarik-Gara moves across the tournament grounds with the acuity of a cat. I notice the increased strength in his upper body, compared to the previous season. He’s been working out.
Or juicing on choog herbs.
The hulking Zoran strikes his opponent directly in the face, sending him flying across the sandy grounds. The audience cheers loudly as the battered man stays down.
I’ll need to steer clear of his blows if I want to keep my bones intact throughout the tournament. This is what I’ve been training for all my life. I can’t allow myself to be distracted now.
I note the strength and weaknesses of the various warriors that follow, filing them away in the back of my mind for the rounds I’ll be competing in.
And then he walks into the arena.
Rinor.
Broad-shouldered, smoldering hot, red-skinned Rinor. A crowd favorite, a showman, a boastful, arrogant jerk.
He was missing for a few weeks, and I thought for sure he was going to miss the Titan Games. I could already taste sweet, sweet victory — I felt that close.
And then the red bastard shows up in the nick of time to register. Worst of all, he won’t explain where he’s been, either. The gossip columns say he was on Corlis Station, on a cuhla bender that spanned weeks.
It doesn’t really matter. He’s back, and if I want to win, I’ll have to defeat him.
And I want nothing more.
Winning the Titan Games is the only way my father, General Valdas, will take me seriously. If I become Grand Champion, he won’t be able to stop me from joining the Warrior Regiments.
I want nothing more than to serve my people, the Zoran, but my father just sees my human side. Yes, I’m visually human, but I’m as good a warrior as any Zoran. My victories prove that!
I think that I remind him of my mother, Evonne King. I don’t remember her at all, unfortunately. She died when I was but a baby, from a mysterious illness that even the top Zoran scientists couldn’t cure. I have seen photos of her, and I must admit that the resemblance is uncanny. I have her dark skin, her unruly curls.
If it weren’t for my bright, violet eyes that I got from my father, I could pass for a full-blooded human.
I understand that he doesn’t want to lose me as well, but I can’t stay his baby girl forever. I have to spread my wings at some point.
And if I have to defeat Rinor to get there, then that is what I will do. No matter how strong he is. I’ll just have to be stronger.
He’s facing off against Davik-Vorta, a half-Zoran, half-Rathnid warrior, known for his impressive speed. It was that blistering speed of his that knocked me out the Titan Games last year.
I won’t let that happen again.
Davik-Vorta darts across the arena, running laps around Rinor, but the red Zoran doesn’t let it distract him.
He strikes at the exact moment Davik-Vorta’s defenses are down. Rinor’s quick reflexes are… impressive.
Enough to give me pause, and mentally schedule another sparring session for the night. If I want to keep up with him, there’s more work to be done.
Rinor dispatches of the half-Rathnid with a lightning fast duck-and-roll, and a leg sweep from behind. Davik-Vorta tumbles over, and Rinor pounces on top of him.
Match over.
This is just a warm-up bout. The real fight won’t be that easy for him. Still, Rinor seems to revel in the applause, enjoying all of the praise that is coming his way. He makes a whole show out of bowing to every single corner of the Vinz Arena.
I roll my eyes. He’s such a show-off.
And then we lock eyes, and the Zorashi symbols on my lower arms tingle like mad. I pull down my sleeves and hide them, cursing myself silently.
The symbols are another ‘gift from the Rift’, as I call them. I haven’t told anyone. I don’t want the Sacred Order to know, because I’m afraid of what they’ll tell me. I don’t want to be one of the Chosen. I’ve had my fair share of the limelight. I just want to be a warrior, serve my time, and do my part. Is that too much to ask for?
Rinor winks at me, and I don’t care for his self-pleased grin one bit. He thinks he can woo every woman on the planet, but not me. I won’t fall for his charms.
I turn my attention to Gorba, my good friend and confidant. His massive frame towers over the crowds in the stadium rows, and his short, clipped laughs make me wonder what he’s been reading on the newsfeeds.
Gorba tends to stay in the know for the both of us.
“Cormas done!”
Ah ha. So Cormas is out. I’ll get the details later. He’s probably embroiled in another scandal. Cormas can never stay out of trouble.
The Titan Games is a test of character as much as of skill, and I’m going to keep my nose clean for sure. I’ve got a bigger goal in sight than mere fame and fortune.
Becoming Grand Champion is my stepping stone to becoming a true Zoran Warrior.
If I win, the Warrior Regiments can’t turn me away. The fact that I’m partially-human or that I’m female won’t matter anymore. And my father can’t use his contacts to keep me out either. I can finally be free!
>
My father won’t even allow me to be involved in the investigation of the Leviathan, the absolutely massive Wellington Consortium flagship that showed up recently.
It’s so big the damn thing can’t even dock on the Trade Ports. Instead, it’s floating in space on the dark side of the Arcor Moon.
It showed up at the exact same time that Rinor made his re-appearance — but no one on the newsfeeds has made that connection yet.
I’m not sure if they are just stupid, or covering for him. Probably both.
Honestly, I’m so tired of locking horns with my father. He has my whole life planned, and I just want to be my own person and live my own life.
The Rift is giving me enough stress as it is. I need someone to support me, not argue with me at every turn.
“Eat now,” Gorba says as he rises up in the stands, casting a large shadow over the rows in front of him.
Several Zorans, humans and visiting aliens turn annoyed eyes at him — eyes that quickly grow wide when they take in his size. Gorba is an absolute giant, even among Zorans.
I hurry out of the stadium, following Gorba’s lumbering frame. The lost boy from the jungles of New Exon has grown into a true member of my family.
I’ve seen enough for the day. I know my opposition — Rinor and Davik-Vorta are who I’ve got to look out for.
Sweat drips down my brow as I practice my roundhouse kicks in the practice room of the Vinz Arena.
I won’t let one of Rinor’s leg-sweeps take me by surprise. If he tries that move on me, I’ll deliver a swift kick right to his left temple.
“News clip!” Gorba grumbles. “You.”
I grab my water bottle and take a large sip as Gorba holds up his tablet. On screen, Rinor is being interviewed.
Shirtless, of course, his massive pecs glistening with sweat, all of his tattoos on display.
This man, I swear…
“What do you think about Takara King?” The Federation News reporter asks.
Rinor turns to the camera and smirks, his playful, crimson eyes lighting up.
“Stunningly beautiful,” he says.
I squeeze my water bottle so hard it breaks. All the newsfeeds ever talk about is my looks. I’m a warrior. A champion! Yet, all they see is a ‘curvy warrior-princess’. A ‘curly-haired goddess’.
It was charming — at first. However, I tired of it real quick. If we could talk about my accomplishments instead of my curves, that would be great.
“I mean, as an opponent,” the reporter stammers.
“Oh,” Rinor answers. He shrugs those massive shoulders of his. “To be honest, I don’t think of her that way.”
That does it.
I storm towards one of the practice dummies and with one powerful, roundhouse kick send it flying across the hall.
“I’m going to make that red bastard swallow every single word!”
Chapter Two
Rinor
I watch Takara train from the sidelines. My eyes are locked onto her finely sculpted muscles. The soft swells of her breasts bounce with every kick and punch, and it would make me blush if I weren’t as red as a supernova already.
It’s a shame I’ll have to best this beauty, when she’s obviously worked so hard this past season.
Her eyes lock with mine for a brief moment. She grins, before launching herself into a spiral kick-flip that would impress most judges.
A little showy, but that’s okay. She’s definitely got raw talent. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her compete. She’s grown — in a number of impressive ways.
There’s not many warriors with human blood competing, let alone females, but Takara can definitely hold her own. I have yet to face her in the ring — last year she was bested by Davik-Vorta before I could have a shot at her. There’s no shame in that, but I do resent the half-Rathnid for it.
I have my fair share of female fans as reigning Grand Champion, but I don’t… indulge in them. I’m not like Cormas. Truth be told, I only have eyes for Takara.
And as fate may have it, she’s the only woman on the Arcor Moon who doesn’t even give me the light of day…
Roka passes through the side-entrance, lowering the hood of his cloak with a self-impressed grin that makes his female fans swoon for him. He’s one of the Chosen as well, although he has yet to find his true mate. Roka considered himself a god from the moment he emerged from the womb. With his arrogant attitude, I can’t see any woman tolerating him long enough to fulfill her duties as his sacred-other.
I’ll be the first to admit I put up a show for the ‘feeds, but it’s nothing more. Just show.
Roka, however, believes his own bullshit. That said, he’s a formidable opponent, and next year he’ll be old enough to compete.
Roka’s eyes settle on Takara, a smile spreading on his lips. I feel the unfamiliar presence of jealousy squeezing my gut. Back off, kid. She’s mine.
“I believe we’re witnessing the beginning of the end.”
“The end of what, Roka?”
“Your reign.”
“You’ve been drinking again.”
Roka’s grin spreads to a wide smile.
“I haven’t had a drop. Unlike you. Month-long cuhla bender, wasn’t it? That’s why you nearly missed the pre-season, right? Or were you just afraid to lose your title, and so you decided to sabotage yourself?”
I close my eyes to stop the flashbacks from triggering. Weeks I spent in that dark cell, knowing that every day could be my last. I watched fellow prisoners I befriended taken away, never to be seen again.
The cuhla-thing is a cover-up. The High Command doesn’t want to start a panic and trigger a full-scale war with the Federation.
I’ve been ordered to return to the arena and pretend nothing happened. It’s easy enough to do that when I’m in the ring and dodging blows, but when I’m alone in my room… it’s not that easy.
I can still hear the screams.
Roka pats me on the shoulder, a self-fulfilled grin on that boyish face of his. He thinks he won this round. No reason for me to break that illusion.
Takara approaches us.
She makes my Zorashi symbols light up fiercely. Fortunately I’m wearing my battle-garments, so Roka is none the wiser. I search her glittering eyes for any indication she feels something for me as well, but…
Her gameface is formidable.
Chapter Three
Takara
“You’re better.”
I smile at Gorba’s compliment, pleased that he’s noticing my progress as well. I’ve put in a lot of hours this year. I’m absolutely determined to prevail in this year’s Titan Games. I feel stronger than ever.
I won’t let Davik-Vorta best me again, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t even let Rinor checking me out from the sidelines distract me from my training.
When I close my eyes I can already see the crowds cheering my name, the companies who will beg me to endorse them, the bigwigs who’ll want to cozy up to me… that’s not the main reason why I’m training so hard, but it doesn’t hurt either.
When I win, I can finally enter the Warrior Regiments on New Exon. My father won’t be able to stop me, not anymore. I can’t stay his media darling forever.
“I’ll meet you in the cafeteria in five,” I tell Gorba as I head towards the showers.
My Zorashi symbols tingle madly when I pass by Rinor.
“Good workout,” he says.
There’s a hint of sarcasm there — or am I just imagining it?
I flash him an uncertain smile and keep moving. I’m quite unnerved by how I feel inside every time I see that gorgeous warrior. The last thing I need right now is to be distracted.
I can’t keep thinking about how hot he is when I’m handing him his fire-red ass in the arena.
Still, even when I’m undressing and putting my shower-cap on, my mind turns to the Zoran warrior.
Everything seems to come so easy to him. His wins look effortless. He plays the media like a fiddle. Th
e men want to be like him, the women want him.
I have to train like mad, and every win is hard fought. And don’t even get me started on the media… I’m always afraid of saying the wrong thing, and as the only woman competing, everything I do and say is put under a microscope. That’s why, despite my initial objections, I finally agreed to hire a PR-person. I’m already dreading meeting her. I’m my experience those type of people talk. A lot.
I prefer to let my fists do most of the talking.
Perhaps Rinor can teach me a thing or two after all…
As my mind drifts to him, and the hot water cascades down my naked body, I let my thoughts wander.
Bad idea.
All I hear is crackling and static, and my eyes snap open.
Oh no. It’s happening again.
It feels like I’m traveling through a tube, just an electron making its way through a maze of cables and wires.
Not now. Not so close before the Titan Games.
The Zorashi symbols aren’t the only thing the Rift has given me. No, I also have a weird effect on technology. I can’t even begin to describe it, but it feels like my conscience can… inhibit… technology.
It’s just as unnerving as it sounds.
And seeing the Trade Ports is nothing more than a giant Space Station built on the Arcor Moon, I’m constantly surrounded by technology. Plenty of opportunity for things to go awry.
I’ve had it under wraps the past few weeks, but I pushed myself hard in training today.
