TRAPPED BY THE BARBARIAN WARLORDS
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I never asked to be an omega, and I never asked to be whisked away to a distant world, transformed, and hunted by aliens. But fate has brought me to Amadon, where my very existence teeters on the edge of chaos and destiny.
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Imprisoned by the ruthless ulgix, I'm a pawn in their scheme to obliterate this new world. Yet, when Xander, Thane, and Kael—three imposing warlords with golden skin, long black hair, and spiraling black horns—discover me, our fated bond sparks to life.
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Caught between fear and unyielding attraction, I must embrace my destiny alongside my mates. When I'm in heat they'll bond me, a fated connection that will either save or doom two worlds.
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We see Charlie's fear, her resolve to return to Earth, but we also see our salvation.
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On the cusp of extinction, hope surged through our veins when we discovered our omega hiding deep within the bowels of the ancient battlecruiser buried beneath the sands we call home.
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The ulgix's treachery fuels a desperate plan to destroy Earth. Now, with Charlie by our side, we must unite our fragmented societies, put centuries of mistrust behind us, and forge a bond with our mate strong enough to withstand the impending storm.
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The tides of war are rising. The ulgix's final assault looms near. Our omega's bond is the key to survival... for a planet she left behind and a new home--our home--that desperately needs her.
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Unless we can overcome centuries of war and animosity, our fated bond with our mate will either be the salvation of two worlds.
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Or our ruination.
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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
Charlie
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I pace the small room that has been my home for two weeks. Two weeks is an estimate because there’s no way to really tell how much time has passed in a windowless room measuring ten paces between walls. The regular dimming and brightening of lights in the room has been my best indicator of day turning into night and then back again.
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I’m not complaining about being holed up here. Looking at gray metal walls is a much better alternative than what waits for me outside.
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My gaze settles on the odd structure I've fashioned out of towels and old clothes, my makeshift bed for the past two weeks. The materials are woven together in an intricate, almost compulsive pattern I never would have made before ending up in this hellhole. The edges are raised, forming an oval shape that cradles my body when I curl up inside. A need I want to give into every second of the day.
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A nest, Waldo called it.
He also called me an omega, then proceeded to tell me what that meant, too...
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I don't want to be an omega.
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The word tastes like ash in my mouth, bitter and choking. I don't want to be this... thing the ulgix turned me into when they ripped me from Earth and dumped me here.
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One moment I was closing up the family mechanics shop and the next I was hurtling through space. All I could see of my body was a slight mist made of millions of tiny pieces and when I shot from the sky and tumbled onto hot sand beneath a burning sun, those tiny little pieces weren’t put back in the same way.
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I was me… but I didn’t fit the same way under my skin.
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My hands clench into fists, nails biting into my palms. My lungs squeeze to the point that there’s not enough oxygen. I clench my eyes shut and purposefully relax. I can’t afford to lose it.
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But really, who wouldn't lose it in these circumstances? I know beyond a shadow of doubt that aliens do exist and are nothing like the sanitized versions from TV. If this was Star Trek, I'd be exploring strange new worlds, not trapped in a storage room for days on end afraid to step foot outside.
If I was on Star Trek, I wouldn't be a literal biological ticking time bomb.
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Waldo told me about that, too. He explained what I'd need when I met my ‘alphas.’ That I would go into heat—a primal, overwhelming urge to bond—and… breed. He said I’ll want to fuck for days on end. I won’t be able to help myself.
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The thought makes bile rise in my throat.
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I'm pretty fucking sure Star Trek never did an episode about knots, cocks, or slick. The clinical terms Waldo used don't begin to capture the horror of what's been done to me; of what my body's been newly programmed to want.
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I stop pacing, shut my eyes and suck on my tongue to stop my downward spiral.
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Sometimes I wish Waldo hadn't implanted the language chip in my brain so we could talk. The way I see it now, ignorance is bliss.
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I still would have known the ulgix are assholes from the way they stalked me after I landed in a naked, trembling heap on the scorching sand. That type of assholeness can’t be faked.
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Luckily I’d had the wherewithal to run from them after fighting off brain-numbing shock seeing them bear down on me. A handful of sand in their eyes gave me a second to gather my feet under me and I ran. It didn't matter where. Only that it was away from them.
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I managed a few dozen shaky steps before the sand gave way under me and I was sucked down, through a tunnel of dry quicksand that dumped me into a large underground cave where a massive space ship is housed. The sight of that made my brain black out for a while.
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“Biological beings need to eat. You've been without food for too long, Charlie.” Waldo's eerily human-like voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. The more we’ve conversed, the more he’s taken on human inflections in his tone.
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He's right. The gnawing ache in my stomach is a constant reminder of how long it's been since I ate. If I don't get food soon, I'll be in real trouble.
“The problem isn’t about not wanting to eat. It’s about going out to get the food,” I tell him.
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“It's mid-way through the night cycle,” Waldo replies, his small round white body swiveling to face me. His large black eyes blink as he looks up at me from my knee height. “I assure you, it's the safest time to leave here. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise.”
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In the center of his oval belly, a screen flickers to life, showing me images of empty metal corridors outside my room. Waldo told me he is an AI, created by the advanced alien culture of this world centuries ago. I’d literally almost fallen on top of him after I tumbled through the sand tunnel. We were both in shock, I think, at seeing each other. The naked, terrified human and the astounded AI life form. It was shock that let me accompany him when he took my hand in his pincers, tugged me toward the spacecraft and through a little door at ground level in the side of the ship.
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Turns out, going with Waldo was the right thing to do.
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He hates the ulgix as much as I do.
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We've gotten to know each other well in this little room. Waldo told me about his past, how he used to assist the Amadonian crew who lived on this battlecruiser during their long voyages through the galaxy centuries ago. He's seen the ulgix take over Amadonian culture, segregating and devolving it.
The ulgix destroyed all the other AI on board once they realized they were a threat. Waldo survived by pretending to be a simple farming bot, concealing his advanced programming in order to survive. Lucky for me. At least I have a friend here. My only friend.
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Now my only family.
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I try to pull myself back from the black hole of despair that threatens to swallow me. I'll never see my human family again. Mom, Dad, my brothers... I'd give anything to be annoyed by them one more time. As the youngest and only girl after four boys, I copped a lot of shit from them growing up.
I was the do-or-die-trying child. The daughter my parents hoped for after four rowdy sons. They'd have loved me no matter what gender I was, but they got their wish. Too bad I turned out to be a tomboy after a childhood spent roughhousing with my brothers.
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God, I miss them. I want my life back. After Waldo brought me here and I’d stopped sitting in the corner rocking back and forth, I asked him if he knew a way home.
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I’d begged. Pleaded. His answer was always the same. Earth is too far away. There’s just no way. I'll never see home, or anyone I know and love, again.
“Perhaps if you leave the room, you'll meet your alphas,” Waldo suggests. “Omega’s need their alphas to survive.”
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I wrap my arms around myself, stifling a shiver. “I've seen those Amadonians. There's no way I'm ever going to be their mate.”
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For one, they're huge. Easily seven feet tall, with layers of rippling muscle beneath golden skin. And the horns... dear God, they have horns. Waldo showed me the camera feed of them working in the ship. I could barely drag my eyes off them. Where the ulgix give me serious chills, the Amadonians are the opposite.
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And therein lies the problem.
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“Your DNA is compatible,” Waldo insists. “When you meet your mates, you'll experience the hjerte bluss.”
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I stop pacing and face the little robot. “What is that exactly?” I vaguely remember him explaining that term before, but I was fighting off a panic attack at the time and only caught about half of what he said.
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“The hjerte bluss is the bonding light. The heart flare only combusts for true mates and signals the ultimate blessing from the fates,” Waldo explains.
It sounds like something out of a cheesy sci-fi romance novel. I say as much, but Waldo continues undeterred.
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“You'll experience the aitisal alruwh—the soul connection that is a sacred, deeper bond between an omega and her mates. Then, you’ll enter your heat soon after. You’ll need all of your alphas then,” Waldo confirms.
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I swallow down a hot wad of no-way. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not having a heat. I refuse to be this omega. If I stay locked away until I’m eighty, then I’ll still be me.
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“Are you sure an omega has more than one mate?” I ask weakly.
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“In the old days, before the omegas died out, packs would predominantly be three alphas to one omega, but sometimes there would be four or five alphas. There's no way to predict how many will form a pack.”
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I rub my temples, fighting off another wave of panic.
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Waldo wheels closer, his voice gentle. “It would be best if you did meet your mates. They could take care of you properly. Being in this room is not good for you, Charlie. You’re getting sick.”
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I drop to my knees and hug the little bot, tears pricking at my eyes. I haven't eaten in days, and my last water ran out two sleep cycles ago. I'd kill for a shower. And clean clothes.
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“I'm grateful for everything you've done for me,” I tell him.
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He's given me shelter and clothing he scavenged. When I first arrived, he even brought food from an ancient storage container, but because I haven’t let him leave me alone for a single moment, the food is long gone.
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I take a deep breath. “It's time to pull on my big girl panties and look after myself. I need to go out for food.”
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Growing up in a household with four older brothers, I had to fight for everything I received. And I did. I won more times than I thought I would, too.
“The orchard will be empty now. The worker bots recharge overnight,” Waldo informs me. “I can tell you what is safe to eat once we get there. There is also a stream nearby for water.”
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Hope flickers in my chest. “Is it safe to swim?” I ask, then add wryly, “I'm glad you don't have scent detectors, because I don't smell too fresh right now.”
Waldo's cheeks flush with bright pink light, a striking contrast to his stark white face. “I do have scent detectors. I was just being polite about your smell.”
A rusty chuckle escapes my throat. “I didn't think robots could smell.”
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“I'm not a robot,” Waldo corrects me. “I'm an AI unit with fully realized independent thought and imagination abilities. I didn't want to hurt your feelings. If you want a swim, I will stand guard while you bathe.”
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Emotion swells in my chest, gratitude mixing with a bittersweet ache. “What would I do without you, Waldo? You're my best friend.”
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“Just remember me after you find your mates,” he says.
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“That’ll be easy. I don’t want to find any mates,” I insist, my throat tight. “You're my one and only, Waldo.”
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I thought Derek was my one and only, and look how that turned out. But that asshat is back on Earth while I’m half a universe away. I'd hoped to be there to see my brothers tell him exactly what they thought of him after what he did to me, but now I can only imagine their brand of retribution. I picture Jake putting sugar in Derek's gas tank, or Tom slipping a nest of termites into his attic. What I wouldn't give to see that play out.
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My brief amusement fades, replaced by a hollow ache in my chest. Instead of laughing around the kitchen table eating one of Mom’s Sunday night family roast dinners, I can only imagine the hell my family is going through following my disappearance.
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I stare at the four walls that are both my protection and my prison. If I can bring back enough food, this might be my view for many more weeks to come. Possibly a lifetime.
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“Are you sure it's really safe to leave this room?” I ask Waldo again, hating the tremor in my voice.
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“I would never put you in an unsafe position. We're in an unused section of the ship that houses cleaning bots. The ulgix are too lazy and egotistical to do their own work, so they're not known to use these corridors.” Waldo’s voice pulses in flashes of light where his mouth would be on his otherwise smooth face.
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I muster my courage.
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“If I can survive riding my bike down a ramp my brothers set up on the roof of our house when I was eight, I can survive anything,” I tell Waldo, a wry smile tugging at my lips.
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I make my way to the corner of the room where a sliding door is set into the wall. I carefully unlatch the locking system I rigged up with the parts Waldo was able to scavenge for me. An extra locking system was the only thing that gave me enough sense of safety to sleep.
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My heart pounds as I press the panel beside the door, which slides open with a soft hiss. The grated metal flooring of the corridor beyond is revealed.
Cautiously, I stick my head through the opening, peering left and right. The dull gray walls stretch out in both directions. The air feels colder out here, raising goosebumps on my skin. I catch a whiff of something sharp and metallic, like ozone and rust. Most importantly, I sense no movement. Taking a shaky breath, I push down the fear that claws at my throat and step through the narrow opening.
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