Alien keeper, p.1
Alien Keeper, page 1
Table of Contents
NOTICES
ALIEN KEEPER
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
TRIGGER WARNINGS
CHAPTER ONE | Grim
CHAPTER TWO | Valeria
CHAPTER THREE | Grim
CHAPTER FOUR | Valeria
CHAPTER FIVE | Grim
CHAPTER SIX | Valeria
CHAPTER SEVEN | Grim
CHAPTER EIGHT | Valeria
CHAPTER NINE | Grim
CHAPTER TEN | Valeria
CHAPTER ELEVEN | Grim
CHAPTER TWELVE | Valeria
CHAPTER THIRTEEN | Grim
CHAPTER FOURTEEN | Valeria
CHAPTER FIFTEEN | Grim
CHAPTER SIXTEEN | Valeria
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | Valeria
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | Grim
CHAPTER NINETEEN | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY | Grim
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | Grim
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | Grim
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX | Grim
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT | Valeria
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE | Grim
CHAPTER THIRTY | Valeria
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE | Valeria
NOTICES
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, used, transmitted, or shared via any means without express authorization from the author, except for small passages and quotations used for review and marketing purposes.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and incidents in this novel are fictitious and not to be construed as reality or fact.
Alien Keeper Copyright © 2022 Veronica Doran
ALIEN KEEPER
Fated Mates of the Sea Sand Warlords
Book Nine
By Ursa Dax
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks, as always, to every reader, reviewer, and new friend on this journey. And to my husband, RSH, and my parents, who support everything I do.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
On-page fighting and violence, including gun violence. Abduction-by-the-hero trope. Mentions of parental deaths due to illness (off-page). Graphic (consensual) sexual scenes involving biting/fang/venom/blood play and size difference/alien, non-human hero.
CHAPTER ONE
Grim
“Grim.”
At the sound of my name I turned. My scaly tail swept across the stone floor of my bed-chamber cave. At the entrance to my cave stood the Hakah Gog. I pounded my fists against my brow ridges in respect for the Hakah, our king. The stones in my cave, luminous from the glowing blue slick that coated them, made Hakah Gog’s deep bluish-grey scales look even more brilliantly blue than normal.
“Yes, Hakah?”
“We leave tomorrow. Be ready.”
My jaw tightened at the back of my snout, fangs clenching against each other. It was time. Time for me, for all of us, to leave this place. To leave the Bitter Sea and the island of our birth. To travel out into deserts to meet strange men and even stranger women.
The Hakah and his guards had already done this – had journeyed far to visit the homeland of his newly discovered nephew, Kor. The tales they had told of that place since their return – tales of scaleless men with glimmering shards for eyes and tiny females with skin so soft it had to be protected from the very sun – were almost too absurd to be believed.
And yet, it was all true. As was, apparently, the threat coming to our world. The threat driving us inland to ally with these foreign desert people.
“I will be ready, Hakah,” I declared, pounding my fists against my brow ridges once again.
“Good,” he said, before turning and leaving my cave. I stared after him, into the blackness of the cave’s entrance where he’d stood a moment before.
I turned back to my own modest warrior’s bed-chamber. Glowing, slippery stones cast everything around me in silver-blue light. That same light illuminated all the rooms and halls beneath the island of our home. In that glow, I surveyed the bare corner I slept in, as well as my weapons – hok-scale spears and sea stone knives with bone handles. A low flat stone created a natural little table where childhood trinkets dwelled – a few shining gems and shells I’d collected as a boy from the beaches, as well as the cracked bone handle of my very first knife, its blade long lost to the teeth of a krikka – the foul predatory serpent of the shallows.
It is not so very much I leave behind...
Especially considering the fact I did not have living parents, nor a mate, nor did I have children. Some of the other males were leaving behind their women, their families, to rise and meet the threat beyond the sand. Compared to them, I was lucky. I left only shreds, stone, and memories.
Though I had been tired from a day of swimming and hunting, I did not sleep long that night. I rose in the blue-dim light of my cave, gathering the things I planned to take into the desert. The journey would take some time, and it was best to travel light. Besides, when one’s own body was a weapon, one did not need to carry many more with him.
I settled on my best spear – the one with the thickest bone handle and the sharpest hok scale at its tip. I considered bringing a knife, too, looking at my collection. Their jagged, death-sharp blades glinted, their pale pink sea stone colour turned milky purple by the blue light.
As my eyes tracked over the line of knives, I could practically see my own life unfolding in their progression. I’d made each one of them, starting when I was a child. My blades grew larger, more artfully crafted, the older I became, the line of the weapons signalling the days of my history like landmarks. I was still a fairly young warrior, but there were many ages to reflect on, looking at those blades.
I chose my most recently-constructed blade. The longest and strongest one, the same way I had chosen my spear. I turned to leave my cave, possibly for the last time, then stopped. I remained in the dark mouth of the cave, the glowing past behind me, the future a murky tunnel ahead. At the last moment, I spun and swiped the bladeless and broken bone handle of my youth from the table. This little thing was no weapon, not anymore. It was short – much too short for my adult’s hand to grip adequately now. It would be pointless to try to fit it with another blade.
And yet...
And yet I could not leave it behind.
Working quickly, I grabbed some spare seagrass twine from the same table. Claws flying, I wound the tough twine, attaching the small bone handle of my lost boyhood’s blade to the strong handle of my adult’s spear. The new (yet old) small bone handle was now tied tightly to the end of my spear’s bone shaft, like a crooked, stunted tail. I grunted to myself, satisfied, then hefted the spear and my other blade again.
This time, when I plunged forward, I did not hesitate.
I moved through the dark tunnels swiftly, knowing every turn, every stone, by heart. It did not take long for me to reach the large opening that led from the inner caves where we slept to the open air.
To the sea.
Two guards stood with their own spears at the entrance to our caves, facing out towards the water. They turned and gave me grunts of greeting before looking forward once again. Ever since the stranger Kor, son to the lost warrior Kon, had risen from those waters and shocked us all, the guards had been twice as diligent at their posts. Impressive, considering they had already been diligent to begin with.
Behind the guards and me, our island hulked up and out of the water, a warm dome of sand and shrubs and trees and birds in the endless waves around it.
Almost endless.
In the distance, nearly impossible to see in the pre-dawn gloom, even with my sharp eyes, I could just make out the thin, ominous line of the foreign lands Kor had come from. The lands we were destined to travel to today.
I was a strong warrior. Vicious and brave. I did not fear these new lands. But something about leaving the sea and being among all that sand and stone felt unnatural and strange.
It just means we must be victorious. Beat every enemy and survive so that we may come home.
I still had some time. I did not have to abandon the sea just yet.
I moved past the guards, my spear in one fist, the bone handle of my sea stone blade in the other. I picked down the slick, sea-sprayed rocks that led into the shallow lagoon in this little inlet.
When my claws touched water, I dove.
My body sliced powerfully through the water. In this inlet, things were calm. It was easy, pleasurable, to glide through the briny dark, even with my weapons in my hands. It was something I’d done countless times – swimming these waters.
I left the calm inlet, moving into the deeper water. I rose to the surface, drawing a breath before plunging down again. Unlike some of the creatures of the sea, my brethren and I could not breathe the water. But my lungs were strong. And I could hold my breath as long as was necessary.
I powered through the darkness, the water cold from the night. Soon, the sun would be rising, warming the surface.
It was not long before I had travelled down a good length of the island’s coast. I reached a quiet area of beach, rising from the water and stalking through the shallows to the sand. Behind me, the sun, too, was rising from the depths. It reached long fingers towards the island, turning the water as red as my own scales.
I felt the water dripping down those very scales, pooling between ridges and spikes, rolling down my legs and tail. Standing tall and planting the newly augmente d butt of my spear on the sand, I watched the sunrise from that quiet, lonely spot, wondering if it would be the last time I stood here like this.
I would have to leave before the morning light grew too strong. The Hakah and the rest of the army would be waiting for me, ready to begin our journey to the desert.
So almost as soon as I’d arrived at the quiet beach, I knew that it was time to go.
I waded back into the water, trying to memorize the lapping feel of it on my legs and tail. Scalding the memory into my body so that it would sustain me on the sands.
I tightened my grip on my weapons, poised to dive.
I froze.
Something caught my eye, something in the distance, out on the water.
I cranked my head, hissing slightly, aiming my spear for whatever it could be. Could this be the new enemy we’d been warned of?
But... no. No, this was no enemy.
The Kell.
It glowed in the distance as if one of our many moons had plunged into the sea. I’d never seen it before. It only showed itself to the men it summoned. The men it called to see the faces of their future mates.
The men it urged to claim their fates.
My heart crashed, a relentless cycle of battering waves, sending dark blood pumping. My jaw worked as I stared at the water. For the first time in my life, I doubted my own eyes. I doubted what I saw.
No.
There was no other man on this dawn-quiet beach. And my eyes had always been strong.
The Kell was here for me.
It was here to show me my mate. To awaken the sacred mate bond, and make me into the warrior I was always meant to be.
No more hesitation.
I dove again.
And followed it.
I was fast, and the Kell moved slowly, almost leisurely. This allowed me to catch up to the sacred creature quickly. As I swam behind it, I took in every feature – the round body with its translucent, starlight armour. Its powerful head with its two knowing, illuminated eyes. Its four paddle-like legs and its long, snaking tail.
It swam ahead of me, the two of us swimming at the surface. But soon, its head dipped down, its paddles shifting, forcing the rounded shell of its torso down into the darkness.
But with the Kell, it was not darkness. The Kell was light itself, beating back the shadows. And it was a good thing, too. Because we were going deeper and deeper into the water. Deeper than I’d ever been before. So deep that without the Kell’s ghostly light, I would have entirely lost my way.
My strong lungs burned, my warrior’s heart thundering. I could not tell if it was from the lack of breathing for so long, or from the churn of emotions plaguing me now that I was about to see the face of my fated mate.
Wonder and dismay. Gratitude and confusion.
Why now? Why would the Kell grant me a mate right before I am meant to leave the women of my homeland? Before I go to battle, possibly to my death?
Already my heart ached at the thought of leaving her.
But there was no point in questioning such things. The Kell was destiny incarnate. It did not answer to the likes of simple warriors.
Deeper and deeper. Lower and lower. Until the Kell was the only thing I could see. Until its powerful light began to be swallowed up all around us, the water black as blood and almost as thick.
Will I make it?
My limbs quaked, the muscles of my throat collapsing on themselves with the desire to suck in air. I knew from other men that the Kell’s cave, though deep beneath the sea, had air. But I worried I would never get there at this rate.
I have to.
I had to get there. The Kell would not have called me if I were not ready. If I were not worthy. I would do this. For myself and for my mate. For our future.
Swallowing a snarl, I pushed harder, every muscle straining, my fangs clenching.
The Kell disappeared.
My eyes snapped back and forth, and I almost lost the breath I’d been holding in confused shock. Where the Kell had been before me but a moment before, now there was nothing but blackness, hard and impassable as stone. My throat contracted, my tail going rigid as I turned my head back and forth.
I would not make it back up to the surface with this breath now.
Was this it? Was this why I had been called?
To meet my own death, instead of my destiny?
No! I would not allow the sea that had been my life’s blood, my home, to be my death. I would find the Kell.
And I would find my mate.
With my last surges of strength, I plunged downward further. I jerked as the tip of my spear met rock. I swiped my claws along a rocky surface until they met nothing.
An opening.
I stared into the opening, and I did not know if it was some illusion of a dying brain or if it was really there, but I thought, far ahead, I could see a faint glow.
Throwing all caution to the waves, I sank into that opening.
Breathlessness drove me faster, but I once again hit stone.
Up. Up!
I thrashed my tail, forcing my body into an upward motion.
And mercifully, beautifully, my head broke the surface.
I sucked in a massive breath. If this had been any other moment, any other time, I would have allowed myself a few breaths to recover. But anticipation was already driving me to movement once again.
The face of my mate.
Any moment, I would see her.
Her.
Who is it? Who is meant to be mine?
There were women I admired, women I had lain with, but none I loved.
But I supposed that did not matter. Just because I’d never felt love for a woman did not mean I was not ready. I wanted this. Deep between my ribs, I wanted this. Between my legs, I needed it.
I swam to the edge of the water, pulling myself up onto slick stone. The glow I had seen from the water – the glow that had been my lifeline – was much stronger in here now. I followed it down a shadowy tunnel until that tunnel opened into a glittering cave.
I’d never seen such a cave. The caves we slept in beneath the island were lined with brown and grey stone, turned blue from the luminescent slick that coated some of them. This cave had walls that looked like polished gems. The whole interior glinted with uncountable facets, almost blinding me after the darkness of the water.
It was impossible to tell what colours might be present in those gem-lined walls. Because they all reflected the pure silver-white of the Kell’s light.
The Kell watched me from the centre of the cave. It did not move. It did not appear to breathe. I squinted, my gaze piercing right through its rounded armour, right down to the stone. Half here and half not, the Kell watched me with unmoving eyes.
Before the Kell was a very small pool – so small I’d almost missed it. Glowing the same way its body did – healing milk of the Kell. This was the source of it. There was a spring of it in our own caves supplied from somewhere beneath the waves. This was where it flowed from.
The Kell opened its snout, showing three upper and three lower rows of translucent fangs. One of the fangs, though, was not actually translucent. As I peered closer, I saw that one of the largest teeth, a tooth bigger than my hand, glinted harder and darker than the others.
I knew what I was meant to do. I’d heard this tale countless times before. From my Hakah. From my male cousins. From my father.
I dropped my weapons at my feet and stepped forward, wading into the shallow pool of the Kell’s milk until I was before the sacred giant. I was a large warrior, but even standing tall on two legs like this, the Kell was taller.
I stared into its great mouth, locating the tooth again. Yes, that had to be the one. The Vision Fang I’d heard so many stories of. It was different from all the others.
I reached deep into the Kell’s cavernous mouth, gripped the Vision Fang, and pulled.
It was not easy. For some time, the tooth did not budge. But I had made it this far. I would not fail now. I braced myself on the Kell’s lower jaw with my free hand. Though its many fangs were see-through and strange, they were still sharp, slicing my left hand to the bone as I grappled with that single fang above with my right. I did not feel the wound, too focused on my task and what would come when said task was complete.
