Rexor: A SciFi Alien Warrior Romance (Stolen Warriors Book 1) Read online

  Rexor

  Stolen Warriors series

  Ella Maven

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Ella Maven

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  Copyedited by Del’s Diabolical Editing

  Cover design by Natasha Snow

  First edition: December 2020

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  An Excerpt from Mikko

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Ella Maven

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Rexor

  The roar of the crowd surged around me, along with the familiar chant which sent a humiliating rush of anger through my veins. “Monster. Monster. Monster.”

  I staggered back as a massive fist passed a hair’s breadth from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t feel my left arm, as it hung loosely from my dislocated shoulder socket after the Cipixion had smashed me into the arena wall. Black blood dripped from a gash in my side, one of my eyes was completely swollen shut, and my entire body was one massive throbbing source of agony.

  I could barely stand, and I knew if I didn’t do it soon, if I didn’t let go and give in to the chants, I’d die. The Cipixion was injured too, but he knew he had to finish me off before I unleashed the monster inside. He was in a rush, which was why his next blow connected with my cheek. Bones crunched, and pain exploded in my skull.

  When I hit the red dirt floor of the arena on my back, for a moment I considered not getting up. But in order to win, I had to lose, and I was tired of the fight. If I survived, Pulixic would give me a few cycles to heal before he shoved me back into the arena to once again battle another slave like me to the cheers and jeers of the crowd.

  I could barely hear anything now, probably from the excessive blows to the head. I barely made out the crowd had shifted its allegiance. They no longer wanted my monster. They wanted my death. And I did too.

  Above me the sun beat down on my face, and I stretched my neck, seeking its warmth one last time before the Cipixion ended my life. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the face of my opponent, but all that stretched above me was a clear sky, no cloud in sight. I stared right at the golden sun, the same one that somewhere on another planet my brothers might also be looking at.

  My cora pounded. My head swam. Despair swamped me because I knew I’d never see them again. I hoped they were healthy and happy. I hoped they remembered me fondly, and I thanked Fatas they would never see me like I was now.

  A monster.

  The thought of them stirred something within me, a part of me I thought didn’t existed. I was still a Drixonian, born on Corin to a well-respected family as the youngest of three brothers. Even though they couldn’t see me now, dying felt like letting them down. While there was breath left in my body, I wouldn’t give up. Not to a Cipixion warrior in front of a crowd. Not while I bore a collar around my neck. If I’d die, I’d die free. I had to fight. There had to be a reason for all my pain and misery. Fatas would call on me again in the future, and I had to be ready.

  The Cipixion, a massive warrior with boulder-sized fists, stepped into my line of sight, saliva dripped from his massive jowls as his matted hair hung in clumps on his scalp. “I end you now, Drix,” he hissed.

  Monster. Monster. Monster.

  I gave the crowd what they wanted. I let the anger consume me as my world colored itself red. My body swelled. The blades in my forearms, scalp, and back lengthened. This was what the Uldani had made me, and even though they thought I was dispensable, I still had enough Drixonian in me to refuse to concede.

  I rolled to the right to avoid the Cipixion’s life-ending stomp, and I screamed as the skin in my back ripped open. I extended my black wings to the roar of the crowd as they renewed their chant, “Monster. Monster. Monster.”

  Kill, the monster in me chanted. Kill. Kill. Kill.

  With a flap of my wings, I blotted out the sun. And I killed. I sliced the Cipixion to ribbons with my machets. But I didn’t stop there to revel in my victory. The Monster wasn’t satisfied this time. It wanted more. I turned on the Pliken guards standing on the perimeter of the arena. Hacking with my machets, I let my Rage loose in a way I never had before.

  Red. So much red. I bathed in it as pain seared through my mind until my skull felt like it cracked in two. My monster leapt into the first row of the crowd. Screams reached my ears, the pounding of feet, but I ignored all of it as long as they stayed out of my path. I had one target. The one who dared to collar me. The one who kept me chained in a cage. Who forced me to kill and dishonor all I was. Who treated me like a monster.

  He was old, surrounded by bodyguards I hacked down with my tail, wings, and machets. He was running away from me, staring over his shoulder at me with wide, terrified eyes. But I was faster. I soared over him and grabbed him around the neck with my claws. I flapped my wings as he cried and pleaded.

  The open top of the arena was covered in a spiky netting. For me. For my monster. So, I couldn’t leave. Pulixic screamed as I flew closer, and with a roar, I threw him at the netting. A dozen spikes impaled him, and he hung there for a moment, gurgling and whimpering, before his body slowly slipped from the spikes. With a weak cry, he fell to the arena floor. I watched him land with a sick thud. Limbs akimbo, eyes open and unseeing, I confirmed he was dead.

  The monster was satisfied. My Rage had found his victim. The arena was quiet now, the stands empty as the crowd had fled. They wanted my monster, and they’d gotten him. As I slowly flapped my way to the ground to settle among the bodies I’d made, I knew I wasn’t done. This planet sought to kill me, and I’d go out on my own terms.

  Uncollared.

  I folded my wings back under my skin. My head reeled, and I felt a trickle of blood drip from my nose as I staggered to Pulixic’s body. Using his thumbprint, I placed it on the lock of my collar. A click followed, and the last of my former life hit the red sand with a clank.

  I stumbled out of the arena into the hot sun, let my wings emerge once again, and took off on my own. The inhabitants of this planet would soon see what happened when they wronged a Drixonian warrior with nothing to lose.

  One

  Daisy

  I finally had to admit there was no positive in this situation.

  I’d tried to maintain an upbeat attitude when I’d fallen asleep in my bed in South Carolina and woken up on a spaceship. Free vacation!

  When I’d been stripped of my clothes and given some sheer white thing straight out of Greek mythology? Ooo, dress up!

  When massive aliens with horns, mean eyes, capes, and face tattoos clapped a collar on me and attached a chain to it? New jewelry!

  When they dragged me into an arena to witness two other aliens beating the stuffing out of each other for sport while a crowd cheered them on? Entertainment!

  That was my thought process until one of the caped aliens
yanked on my chain and dragged me in front of an eclectic group of scarred aliens who licked their lips like I was their next meal. We stood on the floor of a round arena while the crowd sat around us in stadium seating. My bare toes sank into red dirt, which covered everything in a fine layer of dust. I didn’t want to think about the blood and other fluids that had mixed with this dirt.

  While the caped aliens seemed to be in charge—all the guards looked like the one holding my chain—the dozen or so aliens in front of me consisted of a collection of creatures straight out of Monsters, Inc. If it was mashed with Saw and every monster was out to kill someone. Sure, there was a green, one-eyed guy with long arms, but he also had razor-sharp teeth and a tail that whipped behind him viciously. There was also a large furry blue alien, but he was covered in scars, had foot-long blades for fingers, and I could have sworn he was picking his teeth with a bone.

  Every single one looked like he either wanted to eat me or get me naked. Or maybe both. I couldn’t be sure.

  Thanks to my fancy new implant translator sitting behind my ear, I could easily make out the words of my captor when he said, “We have a special treat today!” His voice carried out over the din of the crowd, causing their chatter to lower. “As an incentive to the gladiators, we’ll be offering a prize to the final winner of this rotation’s tournament.” He gripped my long hair in one fist and yanked my head back.

  I let out a squeal of pain, and I caught one of the gladiators inhale deeply with a euphoric look on his flat face, as if he could smell my fear … and it turned him on.

  My captor shoved me forward. “A human female!”

  The crowd erupted into cheers when they learned my fate.

  I stood there numbly, wondering when I was going to wake up. This wasn’t my life. I waited tables at a barbecue joint for a living and acted in seasonal plays at my local theater. I drove a dependable Civic. I had a Live, Laugh, Love sign in my house for Pete’s sake!

  So, that was when I finally began to panic. When I realized my glass-half-full attitude hadn’t even been reduced to glass-half empty. That sucker was completely dry. With a hole in the bottom so it couldn’t be refilled.

  In short, I was screwed.

  While the crowd continued to chant, and the gladiators watched me with undisguised lust—and maybe hunger—my caped captor shoved me in a small cage off to the side of the arena. I didn’t struggle, because there was no point. He was over seven feet tall, had two massive blades tucked into a sash around his waist, and his mean yellow eyes dared me to give him a reason to hurt me.

  No, thank you.

  I was good with my facial bones as they were.

  I huddled in the cage at the far back corner closest to the bottom of the stadium seating behind me. There as a cover over the top of the cage, which protected me from whatever the crowd currently pelted at my makeshift prison. From the looks of the steadily growing debris around my cage, their choices consisted of rocks and rotting food. The dry heat sucked the saliva from of my mouth and the sand stung my skin as a mild breeze sent it swirling around the arena. The place stunk too, like a locker room, and the distinct iron tang in the air filled me with dread.

  I had never felt so alone in my life. On the spaceship, I’d seen other females, but we’d been drugged out of our minds and shackled to tables unable to interact. When we docked at some sort of large metal contraption on this hot, red planet, we’d been escorted off in different directions. I was the only one brought here in some sort of dune buggy machine, my hands bound to the metal caging of the vehicle.

  I hugged my knees to my chest and closed my eyes, trying to imagine I was anywhere but here. As a theater kid, I was good at pretending. I thought of all the things that made me happy—a steaming mug of chai. A warm muffin with a pat of butter. A soft cat purring in my lap. But it didn’t work this time, because all I could think about was that I’d never have those again. I wasn’t sure I’d ever eat again. I might be someone’s next meal. I really didn’t know what these aliens planned to do with me. Eat me or … I shuddered. No. Think of the good things, like hot tea. Purring kitties. Carbs.

  A thud shook the ground and my eyes popped open to the sight of a gladiator on the ground in front of me. This was the one who’d seemed to delight in the smell of my fear. He was a squat thing with rope-like arms, two fingers on each stump, and spikes covering his entire back like a porcupine.

  He was staring at me. I stared back. But he wasn’t blinking. In fact, he wasn’t seeing at all, because I realized with dawning horror that I was making eye contact with his severed head. His body lay a few feet away, yellow blood oozing from his neck.

  I screamed. I screamed until my throat burned, but it didn’t matter because the cheering crowd drowned out my own cries in my ears. In the center of the arena stood the furry blue monster with his arms in the air, bladed fingers dripping with yellow blood. He was … grinning? Maybe. Whatever his mouth was doing was probably a grin, but it was hard to tell because his entire face was covered in spikes from the dead alien’s back.

  I waited for them to drag me out of the cage and toss me at the blue alien, but he only sneered at me before marching out of the arena through a small tunnel. I waited while some caped aliens came and picked up the dismembered alien. They tossed his head into the stands behind me. Tossed. His. Head. To. The. Crowd. And by the shouts and cheers erupting that must have been a real treat.

  When I heard the crunch of bone, I covered my ears and ducked my head. I stayed that way, murmuring nonsense to myself until I heard footsteps enter the arena. I looked up to find two more aliens facing off against each other. One looked like an upright crocodile, standing about six feet. His stubby legs seemed to hinder him from moving very fast. He was up against a smaller alien covered in a dense brown fur which dragged on the ground when he walked, so I really didn’t know if had feet or just … slithered.

  One of the caped aliens shouted, and the two went at each other immediately. After a few minutes, the alien with brown fur won. Mostly because he seemed able to spew some sort of toxic substance from holes on the top of his head, which burned the crocodile’s arm right off like acid. Yep, that happened.

  That was how the day went on. Fighting. Blood. So much blood. Body parts. I had a toe land in my cage and I’d quickly covered it with dirt while gagging. The drone of the crowd turned to white noise in my ears.

  My head pounded, my muscles ached from my crouched position—my friend’s German Shepherd had a bigger cage than this—and my stomach growled. I had no idea when I’d eaten last, and I would have given my arm for a sip of water. I would have licked my sweat if I had enough hydration in my body to produce it. At least the temperature was warm since I wore next to nothing. Eventually, I succumbed to human nature and squatted in the corner of the cage to relieve myself. My urine was very yellow, proving just how badly I was dehydrated.

  As the day wore on, I could almost pretend they forgot about me. No one spoke to me or banged my cage. The crowd seemed to all but forget me as no more projectiles were thrown at my cage. The fights were the main attraction.

  I had almost dozed off when a booming voice cut through my fatigue. A caped alien stood in the center of the arena. This one wore fancier clothes—his cape bore a shiny corded border and gold tips adorned the ends of his horns. Each hand was covered with jewelry that extended across the top of his hand, like gemstone-encrusted brass knuckles.

  “For the final battle today, we have crowd favorite Bu’lara the Bold,” he yelled. The crowd went nuts and the announcer seemed almost gleeful at the response. “He’ll be fighting newcomer Vaziripan the Violent.”

  He spread his hands as two warriors emerged from tunnels on opposite ends of the arena. I’d seen one of these gladiators fight earlier in the day, and I’d rooted against him. The one I pegged as Bu’lara was a large grey alien covered in nasty black scars. He was bald with his neck covered in a rough, thick skin that seemed nearly impossible to cut.

  One alien
had tried. He’d failed and then lost both of his hands before his head. Bu’lara was tall and muscled, wearing nothing but a thin piece of fabric to cover his junk which did nothing to disguise the fact that this guy was packing. And by packing, I meant there were so many bulges, that I was terrified he’d drop his briefs and there’d be a den of penis vipers emerging from his groin.

  The green newcomer didn’t look quite as scary, but he was dubbed the Violent so everyone must know something I didn’t. He was smaller than Bu’lara, and he had disproportionately long arms and legs. His tail swished along the ground behind him, the tip spiked and glistening with a green fluid that sizzled as it touched the dirt.

  I didn’t want to know what that would do to my skin.

  That same liquid glistened from blades jutting from his knuckles. His brow hung low over his eyes, like a bone visor. His skull was elongated behind him, like the creatures in Alien, and covered in a hard, black casing.

  The announcer stepped back as the two eyed each other with malice. “Remember, winner gets the human female.” He sniffed the air before landing his yellow eyes on me with a sneer. “And she smells ripe for breeding.”

  This time, I didn’t even bother screaming. The crowd did it for me.

  Rexor

  At the dull roar of the crowd in the distance, I increased my speed. The flashbacks of my time on the receiving end of those cheers only fueled my desire to see the entire place burn.