SAVED BY THE BARBARIAN WARLORDS
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Drowning wasn't on my agenda when I woke up this morning. Neither was being hunted by reptilian monsters or rescued by three impossibly gorgeous aquatic warriors. But here I am, fighting for survival in an alien ocean while my body undergoes changes I never wanted.
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Calder, Eryx, and Riven claim I'm their fated omega—their destined mate. They say the bonding light that connects us proves it. I've spent my whole life avoiding attachments, but now my traitorous body craves their touch with an intensity that terrifies me.
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Living among the very beings who tried to kill me isn't exactly ideal. But when ancient betrayals surface and centuries-old deceptions unravel, I might not have a choice.
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We never dreamed we'd find our omega in the depths of the Great Oceans. Izzy is everything we've waited for—fierce, independent, and carrying the power to either unite or destroy our world.
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Time grows short as we discover our most trusted advisor has been orchestrating our people's downfall for centuries. The ulgix's grand scheme threatens not only our world but Izzy's home planet Earth as well. Their armies gather, and their true intentions emerge.
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We have mere days to rebuild alliances with our lost people, earn our mate's trust, and forge a bond strong enough to withstand the coming storm. The fate of two worlds hangs in the balance, and only our fated connection with our omega can tip the scales.
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But first, we have to convince her to let us in.
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Before everything we love drowns in darkness.
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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
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CHAPTER ONE
Izzy
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My eyelids weigh a metric ton as I claw my way back to consciousness. Everything's a blur of sensation—the coppery tang of blood in my mouth, a throbbing behind my eyes and the sledgehammer against my skull. I try to move but my limbs are heavy as lead, refusing to cooperate. Darkness sticks to me, close and cloying, trying to drag me down.
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Fragments of memory pierce the fog. I was on a stakeout, waiting for a drug deal that would've been my biggest bust yet. Two million dollars’ worth of product that wouldn't make it to Detroit's streets if I caught it before it went down. The kind of deal that made putting up with the department's bullshit and sitting in a car with stale air waiting for my informant to make an appearance worth it.
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The old vinyl of my car seat creaked with every slight movement as I sat there in the dark, watching empty streets through a windshield dotted with raindrops. Most detectives would've called it quits hours ago and gone home to their families, or whatever passes for a life outside the job. But I'm not most detectives.
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A hollow laugh catches in my throat. Who was I kidding? The truth was, there was no one waiting up for me except maybe my cat, and he'd probably already knocked over the trash can in search of treats. The thought sends a sharp pang through my chest, that old familiar ache of loneliness I usually manage to keep buried under case files and coffee. I shove it back down where it belongs. Feelings only get in the way.
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The car had been my sanctuary, filled with the comforting scents of stale coffee and worn leather that reminded me of my dad's old service vehicle. Better than the sharp, chemical hospital smell I'd rather forget.
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I remember shifting in my seat, adjusting my leather jacket against the cold seeping through the windows. My bladder had been screaming for relief after hours of surveillance and too many cups of coffee. I'd been eyeing the all-night diner across the street, calculating how fast I could make a bathroom run without missing anything crucial.
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The coffee cup had been halfway to my lips when a burst of orange light appeared, so bright it flooded my car like a miniature sun. The light seared right through my body and ripped me apart. One moment I was solid, the next I was scattered into a million fragments, each piece hurtling through space. Stars streaked past. Bright colors bled together in a cosmic lightshow that my brain refused to process. My consciousness stretched across the void, scattered but somehow still aware.
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Terror clawed at what was left of my mind. I'm not religious, but I found myself praying to whatever or whoever might be listening. This couldn’t be real. None of it could be real. I was either dead or having one hell of a psychotic break.
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Then I snapped back together, but all wrong. Reassembled like a puzzle by someone who’s only seen the picture once. I slammed into black rock, driving out what little air remained in my lungs. Pain exploded through every nerve ending before blessed darkness claimed me.
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Until now.
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A shape looms over me, wavering like a mirage. The proportions are all wrong. The head is too large, the neck too thick. The shoulders span wider than any human's. I need to get the fuck out of here, but my body won't respond.
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I try to push away, but my arms are like wet newspaper. Useless. Pathetic.
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The figure makes sounds that should be words but aren't. They slip together on the sound of a hiss. My fuzzy brain tries to make sense of the words and fails.
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Rough hands grab me, flipping me onto my side. Something cold and hard presses behind my ear. Oh God. A gun. Ten years on the force and this is how it ends? I thrash weakly, trying to break free, but then white-hot pain detonates inside my skull.
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My head is being split open, but instead of death, clarity floods in. Sharp, brutal clarity that makes me wish for the fog to come back. Because now I see exactly what's standing over me, and my mind rejects it even as my eyes confirm it.
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Scaled skin the color of old bronze stretches over a skull both reptilian and somehow humanoid. Yellow eyes with vertical pupils study me with cold intelligence. When its lipless mouth opens, rows of serrated teeth designed for tearing flesh are revealed.
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I've seen some ugly mugs in my time on the force, but this... this isn't human. A scream builds in my throat but dies before it reaches my lips. Because deep down, past the terror and denial, I know one thing with absolute certainty: this isn’t a peaceful first contact.
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My fist connects with his flesh before my brain can process the action. Pure survival instinct takes over and condenses into one desperate swing. The reptile's head snaps back, and he staggers. I roll off the gurney, my bare feet hitting cold metal flooring.
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The room spins like I'm coming off a three-day bender. Sleek metal walls curve overhead, dotted with pulsing lights that cast everything in a blue glow. Holographic displays float in mid-air above a control panel, showing symbols I can't begin to comprehend. Everything screams advanced technology, but my mind keeps stuttering on one word: alien.
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The reptile recovers fast, too fast. It launches at me with impossible speed. I dodge, but my reactions are sluggish. Its claws rake across my shoulder, leaving burning trails of pain. Blood trickles down my bare skin, and that's when I realize I'm completely naked. Vulnerable. Exposed.
I slam my elbow into its throat, trying to ignore how the scaled texture is nothing like human flesh. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst. This can't be real.
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And yet…
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The pain is real.
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The blood is real.
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The terror clawing up my throat is very fucking real.
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“Stupid omega,” the reptile growls, the words somehow perfectly clear now. “Stop fighting. You'll only hurt yourself more.”
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A hysterical laugh bubbles up. “An alien. I'm fighting a fucking alien.” The words taste like madness on my tongue.
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His eyes narrow, the edge of his mouth pulling back to reveal those nightmare teeth. “Stop fighting, omega and let me put the NeuroLattice implant in you.”
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I back away, keeping the gurney between us. My hands won't stop shaking but I clench them into fists anyway. “You're not putting anything in me, you scaly fuck.”
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A sound like grinding stones emerges from its throat. A laugh that holds no humor. It reaches for a panel on the wall, pressing something that makes red lights start flashing. “Soon you'll beg for commands. You'll have no choice but to obey.”
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“You're one sick bastard.” My voice sounds steady despite the fear threatening to choke me.
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Those eyes gleam with cruel amusement. “I may be sick, omega, but you'll be the one getting fucked. Literally.” Its tongue flicks out, tasting the air. “The alphas will make sure of that.”
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The words freeze me to the bone even as confusion clouds my mind. Omega? Alphas? None of this makes any sense, but the predatory look in its eyes tells me I don't want to find out what it means.
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Through the curved window above the control panel, a streak of orange light tears across the sky, a burning spear coming right toward us. Metal booms as it strikes and the craft jolts. I'm airborne for a split second before slamming into the wall hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs.
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“Impossible!” the reptile snarls, claws scrabbling at holographic controls that flicker and die. “We're being fired upon!” His focus fixes on me with pure hatred. “This is your fault!”
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The reptile scrambles into a chair and grabs a lever which must steer the craft, but whatever he does appears futile. The craft spins out of control. My stomach lurches as my body lifts from the floor. I bounce off walls, ceiling, floor, my body collecting bruises with each impact. Through the window, I glimpse sand dunes that give way to endless blue as we plummet down, down, down, into an ocean that stretches endlessly below us.
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I glimpse white peaked waves that come all too close before we slam into the unforgiving surface. The craft groans, a deep, tortured sound of metal under impossible pressure. Everything that isn't bolted down becomes airborne, including me.
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My world explodes into white-hot agony as my ribs crack against the gurney's edge. Metal catches my hip, sending fresh fire through my nervous system. Water sprays through seams in the hull, needle-sharp jets that cut into my exposed skin.
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Outside the window, bubbles stream past as we sink into the depths. More seams split open the deeper we go. Only the water isn't spraying anymore; it's rushing in with locomotive force, filling the cabin with disturbing speed.
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“Get out of my way!” The reptile's scales scrape against my bare skin as he shoves past, all pretense of control gone. His claws scrabble at a red panel beside a hatch. My instincts scream to stop him, to preserve the air we have, but my body won't move fast enough.
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The door retracts and a wall of water hits me square in the chest, more like concrete than liquid. The force lifts me off my feet and slams me against the far wall hard enough to make my vision white out. Salt water fills my nose, my mouth, burning like acid.
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I push off from the wall, trying to swim toward the hatch, my only chance at survival, but the reptile is there, his massive frame blocking the exit. His gaze locks onto mine, and I know it’s me or him. There's no reasoning, no negotiation in that gaze. Just cold, calculated murder.
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His foot catches me right in the solar plexus. The kick drives out what precious little air I had left, sending bubbles streaming past my face as I fall beneath the quickly-filling water. My lungs spasm, trying to draw breath where there is none. The current catches me like a toy and I slam into something. Console, wall, ceiling? I can't tell anymore.
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A strange sound cuts through the rushing water… the reptile's roar of surprise as the same current catches him. His bulk works against him now, the water pushing against his massive frame. He hurtles toward me, all flailing limbs and snapping jaws.
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Training kicks in through the panic. I twist at the last possible second, letting the current carry me just out of his reach. His hands slash through water where my throat had been a heartbeat before. I try to swim past him, but his fingers wrap around my ankle. He drags me back and I know he’s going to drown me with him if I don’t get away.
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I slam my foot into his abdomen. His grip loosens. I rip my ankle free and my kick finds his face. The momentum slams his head into a bulkhead and I waste no more time.
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The cabin is now completely submerged. No more air pockets. No more time. I kick off from the wall and swim through the hatch, lungs already straining as I look up. The surface is a distant shimmer of light, impossibly far away and my chest is already about to explode.
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I claw my way up, each stroke weaker than the last. The pressure inside me builds to unbearable levels. My body is desperate for air it can't have. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, growing larger, consuming more of what I can see. Each movement is a battle against the ocean trying to drag me down.
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The human body can only fight its instincts for so long. Soon, I'll either black out and reflexively inhale, or my body will betray me and gasp for air that isn't there. Either way ends with my lungs filling with water. Either way ends with me dead.
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Regret hits harder than the water pressure. No one will know what happened to me. They'll find my empty car, maybe write me off as another cop who couldn't handle the job and ran. No one will believe the truth—that there are aliens among us and that I died fighting one. Bubbles escape my lips despite my best efforts, each one carrying precious oxygen I can't afford to lose.
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My vision tunnels. The surface seems farther away now, the light dimming. Just as the darkness starts to take me, a shape cuts through the water with impossible grace, all rippling muscle and fluid motion. At first, my oxygen-starved brain thinks shark, but the form is wrong. Too human. But also, not human at all.
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What I'm seeing can't be real. The muscular torso of a man melds seamlessly into a powerful fish tail. Iridescent markings pulse along his skin like bioluminescent tattoos. A merman? Because apparently aliens aren't enough. Now I'm hallucinating mythological creatures as I drown.
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High, sharp cheekbones frame eyes that glow an impossible blue. Dark hair flows around his face like ink in water, highlighting deep aqua skin. His bare torso is all lean muscle and perfect proportions. Gills flutter along his ribs, and scales dust his shoulders in patterns that catch what little light reaches this depth. He's beautiful in the way an apex predator is beautiful, breathtaking but lethal. The kind of beauty that makes prey freeze instead of run.
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A small part of my brain—the part not dying from oxygen deprivation—notes that no human could look this perfect, this ethereal, but my lungs finally give out and the last of my air escapes in a stream of bubbles. My body convulses, trying desperately to breathe. The merman's powerful arms wrap around me, but instead of pulling me up, he holds me down. I thrash in his grip, but I’m fighting a steel band.
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Water fills my mouth. My lungs burn like I've swallowed molten lead as he pins me in his unforgiving grip. Then his lips are on mine, and even through the haze of approaching death, I register how soft they are, how perfectly they fit against my mouth.
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Blue-white lightning crackles over his skin as living electricity spreads over me in a web of light. It should hurt, but instead the electricity is warm, almost comforting. The light pulses in time with my pounding heartbeat, growing brighter, stronger before sinking into my skin and disappearing. His eyes widen and he keeps kissing me through obvious shock—why is he shocked?—before sweet oxygen flows into my burning lungs. The darkness recedes as I breathe him in, tasting salt and something wild and alien that makes my head spin in an entirely new way.
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He's not trying to drown me.
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He’s giving me his air.
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