CAPTURED BY THE BARBARIAN WARLORDS
​
One moment I’m training recruits, and the next I wake to see three brutal aliens staring down at me from the other side of my cell.
​
They can’t be anything else but alien, with velvety ebony skin, thick muscles, horns that rise from their temples to spiral over their heads, and wings that flare behind them. The way they pin me with heated black eyes awakens something inside me. Something unwanted.
​
Something . . . other.
​
We’re all imprisoned by another species of alien. These reptiles are merciless, and it’s clear that while the charcoal-skinned aliens are warriors, I’m nothing more than bait.
​
They’re fighting to get closer to me, and it’s no secret what they’ll do when they finally get their hands on me.
Omega. She’s the one who lifts the fog in our minds and brings us clarity. She is the key to a freedom we never knew was stolen.
​
Her scent calls to us. It cuts through the hazy fog that has filled our minds and taken our will, our autonomy. Ourselves.
​
She makes us remember who we are. What was stolen from us. She gives us purpose beyond endless experiments that take us to the edge of our physical endurance. Each test is more dangerous than the last, until she is the being our masters put in mortal danger.
​
She may fight us. Fight her heat. Fight the very thing she is. But that doesn’t matter. We will save her. Protect her. We will fight the very creatures we trusted with our lives and reclaim our kingdom.
​
And then. We will claim her.
​
This is the fourth in the Stolen Planets series. While each book contains a separate romance and HEA between a lucky human female and her alien mates, this series is best read in order.
​
What’s inside:
👾Science fiction romance omegaverse
👾Three alpha alien warriors who are prepared to do anything to claim their mate
👾 Smoking hot steamy scenes
👾Some out of this world biology
👾Nesting, knotting and other omega themes
CHAPTER ONE
Unknown alpha 1
​
Harsh stone aggravates the bleeding wounds underfoot as I trudge between rows of cells either side of me. Blood seeps from injuries scattered over my body, some skin-deep, others rending through muscle. My legs are weighted with fatigue and each step jolts sharp pain through my body, perhaps signaling a fracture in my right thigh. The beasts roaming Darkhaven are brutal creatures, wild and vicious. The masters commanded that the caverats be contained. And I obeyed.
​
I had no weapons. Neither did the two males walking either side of me. I don’t recall how I know that I use weapons. The knowledge is simply there. In the absence of weapons, we used our bodies to eradicate the nest.
​
We killed the nest inhabitants with our claws, fangs, and wings, but they all took payment from our flesh before they drew their last breaths. The young male on one side of me with the sides of his head shaved and a mohawk crest, and the other male on the opposite side with a scar running through his right eyebrow, are as bloody as me.
​
Knowing trickles into my mind. Although they’re predators, caverats don’t attack. Not unless provoked. It’s . . . disturbing, the way they fought. Desperately. Violently. They were protecting their young, but I killed them without thought.
​
Wrong. So wrong.
​
Any worry I feel dissipates as though it never existed as hazy fog drifts across my senses.
​
The males at my side fare no better than me. The youngest, with the tufts of hair spiked in every direction, lists sideways before he catches himself. He clutches the wound that shreds his abdomen with a shaking hand. Blood oozes through his fingers and onto the rocky ground.
​
I don’t like seeing him wounded. Vague emotions press into the fog. I’m . . . concerned, and angry. I want to offer comfort. Help. My hands form fists and claws pop through into the meat of my palms when I’m unable to move a muscle toward him.
​
When I look at these two males, I’m filled with a sense of familiarity. Of comradeship. I know these males. At least, I think I do. I think . . . they are important to me. That there’s more to them than unknown males who fought caverats by my side. The synchronicity of our movements during the clash was familiar. Each step, lunge, slash of claws I knew would strike before they moved. There was an innate trust that one of the males would be at my side if needed, and I would protect their backs in turn.
​
Memories press against the white fog in my mind, tempting me with rich multi-colored images. I need those memories. I want those memories. I reach for them, so tantalizingly close, but brilliant light streaks behind my clenched lids. I grunt and fall to my knees as white-hot pain sears through my head. I drop to my palms and struggle not to sprawl on the ground.
​
“Get up! Off your knees!” A master hisses as he looms over me, and with his words comes the irresistible urge to obey. The light reflects off his dull green scales. His yellow eyes fall on me, and he raises his bolt that would strike me should I refuse to obey. He doesn’t need the bolt. My body moves of its own accord, ready and willing to do anything that is asked.
​
I struggle to my feet when I want to disappear into oblivion. Blood loss makes me dizzy and, when I’m upright, I sway. The master prods me with the end of the bolt. Thankfully the end is uncharged and all I receive is another bruise.
​
The male with the scar through his eyebrow tilts his head, his dark forehead in deep lines. He steps toward the male, the muscles across his chest and shoulders strained, but that’s all he can do. His face scrunches and he grips the sides of his head with his fists. His guttural groan resounds off the glass windows of the cells on each side of us.
​
Another of the masters snaps his bolt hard across the backs of the scarred male’s legs. I simply watch. I can do nothing more. The male gathers himself, eyes dazed and empty, and shows no signs of the hit he’s received as he starts walking again, one foot shuffling in front of the other.
I shuffle next to him.
​
Most of the cells are empty. Some contain huddled forms curled into corners. They could have been there for a day, or for eternity. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I obey the masters’ commands.
​
Whatever they want, I will do.
​
I have no desire to do otherwise, but then . . .
​
A scent, faint and delicious, coats my tongue and fills my senses, and I can’t . . . I can’t take the next step. My heart thumps and blood sings through my veins. My skin prickles with heat. My muscles cramp. I need to walk to my cell. The master commanded it, but . . .
​
That.
​
Scent.
​
A master jabs the end of his bolt into the small of my back. “Get moving.”
​
My body refuses. Except to turn and face the cell from which the scent emanates. The male with the mohawk snaps from his trance and moves to stand shoulder to shoulder next to me. The younger male’s chest vibrates on my other side as a low growl sounds. Together we stand. Together we defy the masters.
​
At first, I don’t understand what I see. The body inside the cell is tiny. Nothing more than a pale bundle of limp limbs tossed on the floor. The legs are long and lead down to dainty feet. There are no claws. No scales. A mere thin opaque covering caps each petite toe, leaving the creature completely defenseless.
​
The hips flare and dip at the waist in a sensuous curve. Elegant arms wrap around a torso, partly obscuring two fleshy mounds. Pink nipples peek from behind her forearm, budded tight.
​
The creature is . . . female.
​
My focus moves up her body. Strands of dark-brown silk are fanned around a refined face. Her features are as delicate as the rest of her body. Sleek twin brows the same color as the silk slant over her closed eyes. Her thick lashes cast shadows over her cheeks. A thin nose, much narrower than mine, is balanced over pillowed lips.
​
Her scent wafts from the cell, through the line of air holes drilled in a line at the top of the window that divides us, and straight into my lungs. A light prickles inside my chest. My long cock, which has lain dormant between my thighs, stirs.
​
I . . . recognize her.
​
How can that be? I’ve never seen a being like her before. Never scented a female like her.
​
The fog in my head lifts and allows one word to form and flow past my lips, uncommanded. “Awmygha.”
​
I don’t understand the word. Or what it means. Only that this female has triggered an overwhelming instinct deep within me. The males at my sides tense. The youngest lifts his head. His nostrils flare as he drags in a long, deep breath. The other male’s growl joins the younger one’s.
​
The masters shout at us, but we all remain unmoved. A bolt strikes my back. The hit is a distant pain. The female’s eyes snap open. I’m sucked into fathomless, exotic dark brown.
​
I palm the prickle in my chest, but it draws from a deeper level than I could ever touch. Heat races from the deepest well inside me, snapping through muscle, blood, and bone, and crackles to life over my skin in whips of bright purple. Electricity dances over me, as it does the other males, so bright it sparks off the dark stones surrounding us and lines her cell with fluorescent light.
​
Jolts of crackling light spear from all of us, pass through the glass as though it isn’t there, and cover the female. She scrambles away, but the sparks sink into her skin. As soon as they do, the electricity disappears from us, but the prickle inside me bursts into light.
Into crystal-clear knowing.
​
Mate. Omega.
​
“Mine,” I snarl.
​
The males at my sides echo the word. Mine. Ours.
​
The female gasps, curling into a corner, eyes wide and trembling. She’s in a cell. Alone. Shaking and scared. Without a nest. Unacceptable. She needs to be safe. She needs to be protected. She needs us. We are her completion, and she is ours.
​
I clench my fist and pummel the glass so hard the skin breaks on the side of my hand. Blood coats the glass as I pound against it again and again, but still I can’t break through.
​
Can’t reach her.
​
Have to. Get to her.
​
Three words scream in my head, growing in intensity.
​
Omega. Mate. Mine.
​
“Stop this!” White-hot pain lashes through me. A master stabs me with his bolt. The live end sizzles into my skin. Distantly, I scent charred flesh. I shove the pain aside. The female is more important.
​
The other two males pound on the glass with me. We hit it together. Elation fills me when a white crack weaves through the transparent glass. We can get through. One more hit. I don’t care if I lose my hands getting to her.
​
“Awmygha.” The male with the divided eyebrow screams.
​
The younger male grunts when a master shoves a bolt into his side. He sags against the glass, the blood from his wound staining it scarlet. Another master runs down the corridor and shoves another bolt into his side. He sinks to the stone floor, unmoving.
​
The other male kicks the glass. Webs crack from the impact. More masters rush toward us, drawing their bolts and jabbing them into him. His back arches as fire cracks from the ends of the bolts to sear his flesh. The muscles on his neck striate as he throws his head back before he collapses.
​
“No!” I roar.
​
I grab a master, ignoring every urge that tells me not to, and wrench a bolt from his hand. The urge to protect snaps through me. I can’t let the masters hurt him. Or the other male. I have to protect the female. Protect all of us. Nothing else is more important.
​
“You dare defy us?” A master flashes his fangs in his lipless mouth before he smashes the burning tip of his bolt into my side. The bolt drops from my numb fingers when my body lights with agony.
​
The masters turn on me, striking all over my body with the charged ends. An inferno of pain rips through my head, my bones, and shreds my insides into tiny, ragged pieces. I fall to my knees on the stone and then collapse onto my stomach. I turn my head to see her beautiful brown eyes staring at me wide with terror as white fog descends to take over my mind once again.
​