Preview Chapters 1-3
Chapter One
Koha’vek Draal
The cries and screams echoed down the sterile halls of the research lab in the bowels of the Mesaarkan base, so many raw with panic and pain. I stood at my post, my claws tightening around the edge of the metal doorframe, willing my body to stay still even as my soul twisted with revulsion. Another captive human was punished for some real or imagined infringement. My people crushed so many human spirits for long past and thoroughly avenged infringements.
I didn’t know the name of the young woman sobbing at the medical bay two doors down the corridor. I didn’t need to. I had new human captives to catalog, monitor their vitals, and administer injections designed to keep them compliant. My superiors called it mercy.
I called it what it was: slavery.
Turning away from the corridor, I scanned the dimly lit chamber. Rows of containment cells line the walls, each one housing a frightened human. Most of them were quiet now. Fear and despair had done what the sedatives had not. The stench of unwashed bodies, chemical restraint, and metallic despair hung in the air.
I never wanted to be here.
I was a historian once—before the draft, and before the war, and the aftermath when they sent me to Earth. I spent my youth studying ancient Mesaarkan architecture, collecting oral histories, and deciphering ancient codes etched into stone tablets. Now, I watched over broken humans with a scanner in one hand and a stun baton in the other.
A child whimpered in the cell next to me, and I glanced down. A small boy, no more than seven, pressed his hands against a transparent barrier, his eyes wide and hollow. Tears stained his cheeks. Perhaps he cried for his mother, who’d been ripped from him too soon.
“Go to sleep, little one. No one will hurt you while I’m here.” I spoke in the human tongue, though I knew there was little I could say to bring comfort.
Footsteps echo behind me, sharp, heavy, and imperious.
Subcommander Gar’hako stepped into view, his bulk barely contained by his uniform. “Draal,” he barked. “Why have you not finished sedating these test subjects?”
I rose slowly. “I have dosed the children, and I am checking their vitals.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re behind.”
I clenched my jaw, knowing nothing I could say would appease him. “Because this is inhumane. They are suffering, if not physically, mentally.”
Gar’hako’s yellow eyes narrowed. “Their suffering is of no consequence after what their kind did to our kind. You dishonor your bloodline. A Draal does not question orders. These creatures are cargo.”
I didn’t flinch. “They are alive, thinking, feeling, sentient beings.”
Gar’hako stepped closer, his voice low and full of menace. He clearly had no respect for me, but in that, we were equal because I had no respect for him. “One more failure, Draal, and I’ll send you to the breeding labs on Shekhar Station. Let’s see how soft your ideals are after watching a few mating experiments.”
My claws itched to extend. I just wanted to rip him apart, but my instinct for self-preservation helped me to keep the impulse in check.
“Yes, Sub-Commander,” I said coldly.
Gar’hako grunted and strode away.
I stood still for a long moment after he disappeared, my chest heaving with restrained fury. I hated that man. He would have me executed if he knew what I was thinking, I realized. The scanner shook slightly in my hand before I set it down, forcing myself into a calmer state.
That was the moment I knew I finally had enough. I had waited, hoped, endured—but Gar’hako finally crossed the line. Everything about him and this place was wrong.
I would not stay here and watch another child’s spirit crushed or a human female used in ways I wished I could unsee.
That night, I went back to my quarters after my shift and packed up everything I thought I might need to survive. I waited until long after the base lights dimmed and the guards rotated shifts. Then, I crept through the hangar bay with quiet precision to a small hovercraft, a scouting model that was quiet, fast, and lightly shielded. I had memorized the blind spots in the patrol routes weeks ago, considering how I would escape if I ever got the nerve actually to do it.
Sliding into the cockpit, my fingers danced over the controls. The engine purred to life like a creature awakening from a deep slumber. I took one last look at the compound that had stolen my honor. The wind howled across the cave entrance like a warning. I turned southeast and headed to another mountain range far from here, a place where I hoped to find solitude and freedom.
I flew away at top speed, and I didn’t look back.
Ava
“No, that can’t be right. You’re making a mistake,” I said through gritted teeth. “My father paid off that loan years ago.”
Mayor Jenkins smiled the kind of smile that crawled under my skin and made my stomach turn. He leaned one hand on the porch railing of what had once been my family home and let his gaze wander far lower than my face.
“Do you have a receipt?” He drawled. “Unfortunately, the records were burned in a fire at the town hall last month. You remember that, don’t you?”
I clenched my fists at my sides. “You burned those records yourself.”
Of course, he didn’t deny it. Jenkins didn’t need to deny anything. He owned the sheriff, the magistrate, the council, and every man he sent out to collect “debts.” They were the kind of men who didn’t blink at throwing a widow or a sick child into the snow if it meant pleasing their master.
This house, this ranch—my father had built it with his bare hands and carved a life out of hard soil and mountain winters. Now, Jenkins was doing it here, but he had no right to take it, to erase everything we had built.
I blinked back the burn of tears that threatened and lifted my chin.
“You won’t get it,” I said, mustering steel in my voice. “Not without a fight.”
Jenkins stepped closer, his breath hot with tobacco and stale whiskey. He was too close now, and I fought the instinct to step back.
“I think you misunderstand me, sweetheart,” he said. “You lost the land the moment your daddy died. But I’m a generous man. You can stay. All you have to do is become my woman.”
The words slithered through me like a chill of a bucket of ice water poured over my head.
I was so mad I wanted to spit in his face, but that would give them an excuse to hurt me. Instead, I said, “I’d rather burn this place to the ground.”
Jenkins’s eyes darkened, and the sleazy smile slipped from his face. “That can be arranged.”
He reached for me. I don’t know if he meant to grab my arm or if he intended to hurt me, but I acted on instinct. I twisted away and lunged inside the house, slamming the door in his face and throwing the deadbolt with a satisfying click.
I could still hear his voice through the wood, “You’ve got three days, girl! After that, you’ll be out, feet first if I have to drag you.”
“Bastard!” I muttered under my breath, backing away with my heart pounding and my hands shaking. Stumbling into the kitchen, I braced myself against the old counter, the place where my mother baked bread and my father taught me how to sharpen a knife.
I was going to lose it all. The only thing I could do was leave. I sucked in a breath and stared out the window at the tree line where the wilderness stretched like a promise.
If I stayed, I would lose more than the ranch. I couldn’t even imagine being touched by that vile man Jenkins. Men like him didn’t stop or take no for an answer until they got everything they wanted.
My mare Dotty was already saddled. I was pretty sure it would come to this, so I got ready just in case. It was time to disappear.
Chapter Two
Koha’vek
The cold didn’t bother me anymore. I’d gotten used to it in the months since I left the Mesaarkan base. I’ve spent a lot of time outdoors in the cold.
I moved through the forest with the silence of a predator. With each step, my heavy boots barely whispered against the pine-needle-covered Earth. It was late winter, and snow dusted the ground in thin layers, not deep enough to slow me down but enough to cover my trail behind me. I was glad for that because I knew hunters could still come looking for me.
Since I left my old life behind, the wilderness has become my sanctuary. The solitude has been good for my battered soul. Up here, deep in the ridges of the Medicine Bow Mountain range, my routine of survival was honest and straightforward. I hunted mule deer and elk with a bow, and I only killed what I needed, but no more. The mountain streams were fresh and clear, and I drank from any that I came upon.
Early in my wanderings, I discovered an abandoned mountain hideaway, half-buried under snow and vines. I rebuilt it stone by stone, log by log. Sometimes, the roof leaked during heavy storms, but I did my best to patch it. If I forgot to check the flue, the fireplace sent smoke into the living area. It was nowhere near as nice as my home on Mesaark, but it was mine.
I was on constant alert for anyone looking for me, but so far, no one seemed to be. Occasionally, patrols would fly overhead, and I would hide so they wouldn’t see me. My hearing is exceptional. I could hear them miles away and hide before they came close enough to spot me.
I don’t know whether I was surprised or disappointed that my people never came to look for me. I believe the patrols flying overhead were cyborgs looking for our base to find the missing people. I kept my weapons charged with a portable solar panel from the emergency kit in the hovercraft and stayed alert. These were habits I’d learned early in my military career, an occupation that was chosen for me against my will.
I still had my stolen flyer, but I dared not take it out from the old barn where I hid it near my house. I’d dare not take it out because it carried the greatest risk of being discovered by the wrong people.
I came to the edge of a clearing and stood crouched between the snow-covered cedars. The deer was still ahead, small, healthy, and alert. It sniffed the wind, its ears twitching.
I raised my bow, notched an arrow, and drew back the bowstring, feeling my muscles tighten as I poised, waiting for the precise moment to launch the arrow.
Then the wind shifted. A new scent entered my nostrils. I knew that scent well. Human blood. It was coppery and fresh, and my nostrils flared in recognition.
A twig snapped as I rose to my full height. The deer bolted at the sound as I turned toward the scent. By the strength, I could tell it wasn’t far. I followed the trail, dirt and snow slipping under my feet as I descended down a slope lined with jagged rocks and broken branches.
At the bottom lay a woman by a rock and a tree that apparently stopped her from descending into the ravine. Her long, dark hair was tangled with dirt and leaves. Her clothes were torn and damp. Blood dripped on the snow from a gash on her temple. Her ankle looked swollen.
I looked around her. She had no pack, no supplies, and I wondered how she even got here.
I scanned the trees around us, and there was no horse, no pursuers, no signs of anyone else. What was she doing here?
I crouched beside her, frowning as I pressed two fingers to her throat. Her pulse was weak but steady. I unclipped my scanner from my belt. I still carry it, even though I rarely use it since I left the base. With the power up, a low hum and a green light passed over her body, delivering the diagnosis. She had a concussion, a sprained ankle, bruised ribs, and mild dehydration. Not life-threatening, but I knew it would be if I left her here. The cold would finish what her fall had started.
I clipped the scanner back on my belt and rubbed my hand over my face. If I left her in the snow, she would die. It wasn’t much of a dilemma, however. So many humans I couldn’t save. I knew I could save this one, yet if I did, when would I ever know peace again?
I slipped one arm beneath her knees, the other around her shoulders, and lifted her easily. She startled and made a soft sound. I froze, but she didn’t wake.
Her body was warm against my chest, fragile in a way that pulled at something deep inside me. I hadn’t touched another living being since I’d deserted, nor had I spoken aloud for just as long. Now this fragile, lone creature had fallen into my world like a meteor from the sky, a thought that made me look upward. What have I gotten myself into?
Making my way up the steep incline, I headed for home, holding her close.
The cabin door groaned on its hinges as I pushed it open with my shoulder, careful not to jostle the woman cradled in my arms.
My hearth fire from morning smoldered in the fireplace. I had banked it before I went to hunt that morning, and it still warmed the cabin. I laid the woman on an old padded sitting bench I’d covered with furs. I used slow, careful movements so I would not damage her further.
Before I tended her injuries, I went to the pile of neatly stacked wood just outside the door and got wood to revive the fire in the hearth. Setting a pan of water near the fire to warm, I unhooked my scanner from my belt to recheck the female’s vitals.
Her face was pale, smudged with dirt and dried blood. Dark lashes fanned across her cheekbones, and her lips parted slightly with each shallow breath.
She was beautiful.
Not in the way I remembered from propaganda vids or stolen human entertainment files—those were painted faces, exaggerated features, all glitter and deception. This woman was real. Raw. Wild.
And she looked like she’d been running for her life. I retrieved a folded cloth from the food prep station and dipped it into the warming pot of water. Kneeling beside the bench, I dabbed gently at the blood on her temple. An ugly gash extended from her hairline to her cheek. Perhaps, I pressed too hard because she flinched from my touch and mumbled something unintelligible.
I paused and spoke softly in the human language. “You are safe now. Rest.”
I finished cleaning the wound quickly and carefully, then wrapped her ankle. My scanner showed no broken bones, but multiple bruises. Her body had taken a beating, but it was resilient.
I treated so many humans injured as badly or worse, but from abuse rather than some kind of accident. Sometimes, my brethren abused them for fun. Our scientists abused them to see how badly they could injure them without killing them. It was torture, plain and simple.
I still carried guilt that I had done nothing to stop it, not that I had any standing to believe my objections would carry any weight. Gar’hako would have enjoyed inflicting punishment on me had I dared to protest.
This female was stronger than she appeared. After applying a healing antiseptic to all her open wounds, I covered her with a thick woolen blanket I’d found in an abandoned house in my travels.
I stood, watching her in the firelight, dancing across her face. She would awake eventually, and then she would see me, a monster her people had learned to fear. Though warm-blooded, they called us reptilian because of our scaled bodies and dragon-like features. That I had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth was the only resemblance to a human I bore. Instead of hair on my head, I had spikes, pointed ears, and golden snake eyes with vertical pupils.
I had no illusions that she would be glad to see me. I didn’t look forward to that revelation, but she couldn’t leave until she could walk again. Yet, despite the danger to me, I would not restrain her and hold her against her will.
Yet, if I let her go, she could run straight back into the danger that brought her to me.
My gaze dropped to her face again. Her chest rose and fell, slow and steady.
I’d spent weeks avoiding contact with sentient beings on this planet, hiding and surviving. Now she had dropped into my life, entwining my fate with hers.
Our reckoning would come soon, but for now, I would keep her warm and safe and wait for her to open her eyes. I wasn’t ready to think beyond that just then.
Chapter Three
Ava
Warmth was the first thing I noticed, even before I opened my eyes. Cocooned in a warm, soft blanket, I could hear the soft crackling of the fire. My head ached, sharp and pulsing, and a nagging pain emanated from my ankle, and I tried to move. Groaning, I tried to sit up.
“Easy.” The voice I heard was deep and smooth yet not quite human. Something inside me froze, and I snapped open my eyes. Then I screamed and screamed.
The creature standing over me, shadowed against the firelight, was massive and broad-shouldered. He was half hidden by shadow, but I could see enough of his face to know that he was not human. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light over ridged cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His skin was patterned in dark scales like those of a snake or fish. His large hands had fingers that ended in black claws.
“Enough!” he shouted, covering his ears with his hands. “You are safe. I will not harm you.”
Still, he didn’t move toward me as I tried to scramble back on whatever piece of furniture I had been lying on. My heart was thundering, as soon as I pressed my foot against the couch, hot pain lanced through my ankle, and I cried out. I panted against the pain, searching my blanket and the area around me for a weapon, anything to defend myself from the strange creature standing over me. I found nothing.
What I did learn was that I lay on a soft, fur-covered old sofa, covered with a warm blanket. Then I realized that my ankle was wrapped in a bandage. We were in a small old cabin with a well-kept hearth. Crafted from stone and wood, there was one door and two windows.
Even without my injuries, I doubted I could get past the creature to escape if he wanted to stop me. “Where am I?”
“My shelter.”
I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help myself. “What–what are you?”
“Not your enemy.” He tilted his head as if he might want to say more. “I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. You were injured, so I brought you here to prevent you from dying.”
Then I remembered. A bear roared. Dotty reared, and I couldn’t hold on. I fell, and snow, leaves, and branches flew around me. I kept rolling, and then there was a sudden stop and blackness.
I looked at him again, and suddenly I knew what he was. “You’re – Mesaarkan.” I’d heard the word before, said like he was Satan himself.
His golden eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t deny it. It wouldn’t have done any good because I knew.
“You were one of them, the aliens who were stealing people all over the territory to experiment on them and use them as sex slaves.”
His expression darkened. “I know what my people have done. That’s why I left them.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared into the fire as if it might answer for him.
“Because I couldn’t watch anymore.”
Again, I was staring at him. He was terrifying, somewhere between six and 7 feet tall and powerfully built. He was something of a nightmare with his reptilian features and wicked claws. He could break me with his bare hands if he wanted to.
He had done none of those things. Instead, he dressed my ankle and bandaged my head.
“You should have just let me die,” I said, remembering what my life had become because of Callum Jenkins.
“No,” he emphasized it as though there had never been a question.
I felt my eyes burning, and I blinked back tears to keep them from falling. “I have nothing left. He took it all, but he wasn’t getting me in the bargain.”
“I suspected that you were hunted. It didn’t make sense that a woman would be traveling alone this far into the wilderness.”
I looked away.
Jenkins’s face flashed in my mind, his smug grin, his threats, and his promises. I just shuddered and looked at the creature. “What is your name?”
“Koha’vek Draal.” He rose slowly from where he had crouched by the fire. “You are safe here. You need rest, then when you are stronger, you can decide what to do.”
“And if I want to leave?”
“You may not until you can walk.”
He stepped back into the shadows, picking up a worn blanket and spreading it across a chair near the far wall. He didn’t watch me or come closer. He didn’t threaten me.
Despite that, my heart was still pounding even though I lay still on the couch. My throat was tight. I was confused and exhausted. I still didn’t understand why this alien enemy was helping me. Why was I even alive? But I was.
I was alive and not entirely alone. Injured as I was, there was nothing I could do to change my situation. Soon, I drifted back to sleep.
The next time I woke, the fire was lower. The pain in my ankle had lessened to a dull throb instead of a scream if I moved it. My head still ached, not surprising since I had hit hard enough to knock me out.
The alien was still here. He was sitting cross-legged in the corner by the hearth with his eyes closed, either resting or meditating. The silence seemed oppressive.
I sat up slowly, adjusting the blanket around my shoulders, watching him. He didn’t move or open his eyes. Was he sleeping or pretending?
Then he opened his eyes and caught me staring at him. He stared back, and I looked away.
Silence stretched between us. He didn’t ask me any more questions—not yet—but I could feel them hovering in the air. What was I doing out here alone? What was I running from?
I exhaled slowly, glancing at him. “I can’t go back,” I admitted. The words felt heavy, final.
Koha’vek studied me for a long moment. “Why?”
I hesitated. Telling the truth to an alien—a stranger—felt dangerous. But what did it matter? “Because I don’t have a home anymore,” I said finally. “It was stolen from me.”
His eyes darkened, but he said nothing, waiting for me to continue.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I lived on my father’s ranch outside of town. He built it up from nothing, and when he died, it should’ve been mine. But Mayor Jenkins had other plans. He claimed I forfeited it because of some made-up debt. Sold it off to one of his men, and just like that, everything I had was gone.”
Koha’vek’s expression remained unreadable, but I thought I saw a flicker of understanding there. Maybe even sympathy.
I clenched my hands into fists. “If I go back, they’ll take me too. Jenkins wants more than just the property. He wants me.” My stomach churned at the thought. “Jenkins made it clear that my only option is to become his woman or disappear like so many others who’ve crossed him.”
Koha’vek’s nostrils flared slightly. “That is why you were alone in the mountains?”
I nodded. “My horse spooked when we ran into a grizzly. Threw me, and—well, you know the rest.”
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze sharp, considering. “You were willing to risk death rather than submit.”
I met his eyes, my jaw tightening. “Yes.”
He exhaled slowly, his expression shifting—less distant, more thoughtful. “You cannot leave.”
My stomach twisted. “But you said—?”
“I will not risk you revealing my presence.”
I stiffened. “I wouldn’t—”
He cut me off with a look. “You cannot promise that.”
I swallowed hard. He had a point. If Jenkins or his men found out an alien was hiding in the mountains, they’d come for him. And they wouldn’t stop until he was dead or captured.
Still, the thought of being trapped here, of not having a choice, sent a wave of panic through me. “So what? I’m your prisoner now?”
Koha’vek’s expression didn’t change. “You are my guest.”
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “A guest who can’t leave?”
He didn’t answer.
Frustration bubbled up inside me. “What do you plan to do with me, then?”
Again, he hesitated. “Nothing.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing?”
“I will not harm you.”
Something in his voice made me believe him. He meant it. He wouldn’t hurt me. But that didn’t mean I was safe, either.
I studied him, my heart pounding. He was strange to me—alien in every sense of the word. His body was too large, too powerful, his features too sharp. When I first saw him, I thought he was a monster. But he wasn’t, really. He was just an alien, kind of a cross between a reptile and a green goblin.
“I don’t even know what you are,” I admitted quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like you before.”
Koha’vek’s expression remained steady, though there was something guarded in his gaze. “I told you I am Mesaarkan.”
I rolled the name over in my mind. I’d heard stories—whispers of the aliens who had secretly occupied Earth, evading the cyborgs who took over. Most people thought they were all gone. Clearly, that wasn’t true.
“Have you seen my horse? I hope she is all right. She’s all I have left.”
“Your horse is fine. I found her and put her in the pasture by the livestock building. Your belongings were still tied to her saddle.”
“I want to see her.” He gave me an unreadable look. “It’s not like I can jump on her back and ride away. I have no place to go anyway.” Tears welled in my eyes.
He made an exasperated sound and stalked out of the house. Tears spilled down my cheeks. My head hurt, and my body ached. Now I pissed off the only person who had shown me any kindness in a long time.
As I started to cry, I heard a clatter on the front porch. It sounded like hoofs. No, he didn’t.
The front door opened, and Koha’vek walked inside, leading my horse. I quickly wiped the tears from my face, laughing. She nickered when she saw me and moved closer, lowering her head so I could pet her.
“Oh, Dotty, that mean old bear didn’t get you.” She sniffed me and seemed to examine me, nuzzling me. It was almost like she was apologizing for dumping me off. “It’s okay; I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You were scared. That was a big bear.”
Koha’vek held the lead, stoically watching me pet and talk to my horse. Finally, I looked up at him and chuckled, “I can’t believe you did that. That was so kind and thoughtful. But you’d better take her back outside before she makes a mess in the house. Thank you.”
Koha’vek simply dipped his head in acknowledgment, steered the horse around, and took her back outside.
When he returned, neither of us spoke for a long moment. The fire crackled between us, casting shifting shadows along the walls. I had no idea what the future held, yet I was starting to trust him. At least I was alive and not alone.
And that would have to be enough for now.