Her Alien Savior Read online

  Her Alien Savior

  Voxeran Fated Mates #2

  Presley Hall

  Copyright © 2020 by Presley Hall

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

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Fated Mates of the Kalixian Warriors Series

  Claimed - Book 1

  Stolen - Book 2

  Rescued - Book 3

  Bound - Book 4

  Broken - Book 5

  Consumed - Book 6

  NOTE: Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, but for maximum enjoyment, it’s recommended that you read the series in order.

  Voxeran Fated Mates Series

  Her Alien Prince - Book 1

  Her Alien Savior - Book 2

  Her Alien Beast - Book 3

  TBA - Book 4

  TBA - Book 5

  NOTE: Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, but for maximum enjoyment, it’s recommended that you read the series in order.

  Contents

  1. Sadie

  2. Jaro

  3. Sadie

  4. Jaro

  5. Sadie

  6. Jaro

  7. Sadie

  8. Jaro

  9. Sadie

  10. Jaro

  11. Sadie

  12. Jaro

  13. Sadie

  14. Jaro

  15. Sadie

  16. Jaro

  17. Sadie

  18. Sadie

  19. Jaro

  20. Sadie

  21. Jaro

  22. Sadie

  23. Jaro

  24. Sadie

  Epilogue

  Also by Presley Hall

  1

  Sadie

  It’s strange to think of the torn-up remains of a crashed spaceship as a home, but now that I’m light years away from Earth, my definition of “home” has gotten a little skewed.

  The ship we’re in cracked in half as it passed through the rings that surround the planet Nuthora, so there’s no hope it’ll ever fly again. It’s useless for anything but scraps at this point.

  But still, I don’t want to leave it.

  “Hey, Charlotte,” Raina calls, holding up a small, flat case. “What about these? I think they’re some kind of batteries or something. Take or leave?”

  Charlotte looks up from where she’s bent over her own work, sorting through the items we’ll take with us when we leave the wrecked ship. She tucks a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear as she studies the case in Raina’s hands.

  “Take, I think. Droth said we’ll mostly be concentrating on bringing back tech and other items they can trade in the city. There aren’t enough of us to carry everything if we strip the ship down to the bones, so we need to focus on what’s most valuable.”

  “Got it.” Raina sets the case in the slowly growing pile of things that will accompany us when we leave the temporary safety of the crash site and head out toward the Voxerans’ encampment. It’ll be a dangerous journey, considering this planet is populated almost entirely by hardened criminals.

  I chew my lip as I glance around the large room on the ship’s upper level. It’s dimly lit, since the power on the spaceship no longer works, but there’s enough early evening light streaming through a wide window on one wall for us to work by. Elizabeth is stationed near Charlotte, which isn’t surprising. They’ve become good friends in the short time we’ve all been stranded together on this planet—which makes sense, since they actually met before the crash.

  Unlike the rest of us, they actually volunteered to get on the ship. They wanted to be part of the Foreigner II’s mission. Of course, they thought that mission was to make peaceful contact with extraterrestrial life for the first time. They didn’t discover until it was too late that our government had abducted human women with the plan to sell them to alien warlords and slavers in exchange for advanced weapons and technology.

  I had no knowledge of any of that until I regained consciousness after the Foreigner II went off course and crashed on this planet. I woke up inside some kind of cryogenic pod with Elizabeth’s pale face hovering over me, screams and shouts echoing in the air around me, and the acrid smell of smoke burning my nostrils.

  I… didn’t handle it all that well.

  My shoulders tense as I remember the panic attack that sent me fleeing into the woods, and I draw in a deep breath through my nose, setting down the packet of syringes someone found in a medical supply closet.

  The only way out is through.

  The mantra my therapist taught me runs through my mind, and I repeat each word silently several times. I have to keep pushing through. There’s no other option.

  I can’t let myself give in to the panic again, even though it’s never really gone away. Last time I let it take over, I ran into a dangerous jungle like an idiot and almost got Charlotte killed. I refuse to let something like that happen again. My issues are my own, and even if every bit of the anxiety that I thought I’d conquered back on Earth has returned with a vengeance on Nuthora, I won’t let it put others in danger.

  Keep it together, Sadie. You can do this. You have to.

  “Hey.” Gemma looks up at me from where she sits nearby, her dark brows drawing together with concern. She’s got a sweet face and large brown eyes that make me think of a baby deer. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, shoving away the unpleasant memories as I give her what feels like a pretty half-assed smile. “Just not really looking forward to hiking through an alien jungle.”

  Her eyes widen a little. “Me neither. But at least we’ll be safer with the Voxerans than we are here. If another band of raiders shows up, I’d rather be long gone.”

  I nod, because that seems to be the consensus among all the women.

  We’ll be safer with the Voxerans.

  Maybe they’re right. Maybe we will be safer. But will we truly be safe?

  It’s a cynical thought, but life has taught me to be skeptical. Life has taught me to look for the truth behind the lie, the bad intentions behind the seemingly kind offer.

  And this offer the Voxerans have extended to us? Letting two dozen stranded human women join them in their small village and asking for nothing in return? It seems too kind, too good, to be true.

  This is a prison planet. And even though the Voxerans were sent here as political prisoners and not because they’re all violent criminals or something, that isn’t enough reason for me to trust them.

  “How long will it take us to reach the Voxeran settlement?” Gemma asks, biting her lip as she turns her attention from me to Charlotte.

  Charlotte hands a large pack to Elizabeth and stands up, stretching out her back. She’s got a couple of the loincloths all the Voxerans wear wrapped around her body to create a makeshift top and skirt, and she swapped out her worn slippers for a pair of leather boots she must’ve found in the ship somewhere. The overall effect makes her look strong and wild, like some kind of warrior woman.

  “We should be able to make it in three or four days,” she says. “Since there will be more of us than there were when we set out to find you all, Droth expects us to move a little slower. But we’ll push hard and go as fast as we can.”

  “Yeah.” Raina nods, her face set with
determination. She’s clearly wary of the Voxerans too, but she seems to have decided joining up with them is our most practical option. “Spending any more time than we have to out in the open seems like a bad idea.”

  “Droth and his men will do everything they can to keep us safe,” Charlotte promises. “Just like he kept me safe when I was separated from you all.”

  Warmth fills her voice as she speaks, and I shift uncomfortably as I see her expression soften. Her eyes take on a faraway look, and a small smile tugs at her lips.

  She’s in love with him.

  As crazy as it sounds, sometime between getting separated from our group and returning to the crash site with Droth and several other Voxerans, she fell in love with the alien prince. And what’s even more insane is that for a good portion of that time, they couldn’t even speak the same language.

  All of us—Voxerans and humans—can now understand each other thanks to translator chips that Droth’s men found on the ship and injected into our brains. But just because I can now carry on a conversation with any of these men if I want to, that doesn’t mean I’m going to fall in love with one of them. I’m not even sure I want to converse with them.

  What I really want, what I desperately wish for, is to go home.

  I want to go back to a world that makes sense. I want to go back to the tiny sphere of safety I built for myself in my quiet neighborhood on Earth. My life was small and contained, but I was working on slowly expanding it again, working on being a little more brave each day.

  Now all of that has been snatched away from me, and I can’t seem to find solid footing anymore.

  I still don’t understand how our own government could do this to us. How could they steal us away from our lives and try to sell us to fucking aliens? Charlotte and Elizabeth went through the captain’s log after we crashed, and they think the government targeted women with few attachments and connections—those who were unlikely to be missed.

  That part stings a little too, in all honesty.

  It’s a little heartbreaking to realize I could be snatched away from my old life and not missed. Once, there was a time when people recognized me on the street. They’d stop me to ask for an autograph or call out their favorite catchphrase from Dear Sister. But I was only thirteen when the long-running sitcom aired its final season, and I’ve changed a lot since then.

  I did several movies after that, but then I gave up acting and stepped out of the public eye. Now, I don’t think anyone probably spares me a second thought anymore—except maybe to wonder, whatever happened to that actress, Sadie Ryan?

  Somehow, I doubt that even their wildest guesses would involve me being stranded on an alien prison planet.

  I huff a small laugh at that thought, even though my heart beats harder as unease churns in my stomach. I’m trying to keep some perspective on this whole situation, to find the humor and even the wonder in it when I can. But it’s hard when all my mind wants to do is scream at me that this can’t possibly be real. This can’t be my life.

  And yet, somehow, it is.

  The only way out is through.

  I can’t go back to Earth. Even though the Voxerans found a functional escape pod in the ship, there’s no way the tiny vessel would make it all the way across the universe. At best, I’d just end up stranded on a different planet, all alone. And at worst, I’d end up getting hit by the rocks and debris in the ring that surrounds Nuthora, killed before I even left the planet’s orbit.

  My pulse speeds up even more at the thought, and I press a hand to my chest, rubbing absently as if to slow my overworked heart.

  “And once we get to the village, where will we stay?” Raina asks, dragging me from my thoughts as she cocks an eyebrow at Charlotte.

  “Droth says there are several empty buildings in the settlement,” Charlotte replies. “Ones that were used for storage or other purposes. They’ll also repurpose the meeting house so that some women can stay there.” She gives Raina a gentle smile, clearly trying to relax the other woman. “And they’ll start working on expanding the village right away. It might be a bit of an adjustment at first, but it’ll all work out. I know it will.”

  Raina grunts something under her breath. I don’t think it’s exactly an enthusiastic agreement, but she doesn’t voice any objections as she goes back to sorting through the gathered supplies from the ship.

  I go back to my work too, and the room settles into silence for a few minutes before the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside draws our attention. A moment later, Droth and two of his fellow warriors step through the door. Jaro stands on his left, and the one named Kaide is on his right.

  The Voxerans wear soft-soled leather shoes, and they all move like hunters. I have a feeling a large group of them could sneak up on us unnoticed if they wanted to, and I think they walk with heavier footsteps on purpose to avoid scaring us. I appreciate the gesture, but the skeptical part of my mind can’t help but wonder if it’s because they want us to underestimate them, to let our guard down around them and make ourselves vulnerable.

  “Droth!” Charlotte’s face lights up as she catches sight of the Voxeran leader. She stands and points to the packs that have been filled to bursting with scraps and supplies. The ones that are all ready to go are lined up neatly against the wall. “We’ve been making good progress. We should be finished with this by later tonight.”

  “Well done, my kira.”

  He smiles at her, and the pure adoration on his face makes my stomach dip slightly. It’s an expression of pride, desire, possessiveness, and so many other emotions that it overwhelms me a little to look at it. I can’t imagine having all of that intensity aimed at me, but Charlotte doesn’t shrink under the weight of Droth’s gaze. Instead, she seems to blossom under it.

  Her own smile widens, and she steps toward him as if she’s being drawn by some kind of magnetic force. As if he’s a bright-burning flame and she’s a moth.

  “Thank you for rigging up those packs for us,” she murmurs. “They’ve been working well.”

  “Of course.”

  His arms wrap around her, pulling her a little tighter against him as he drops his head and presses a kiss to her lips.

  He’s tall, which seems to be a common trait for Voxerans, judging by the others who accompanied him and Charlotte on their mission to find us. His skin is tinged blue and has a slightly pearlescent sheen to it, and his broad shoulders, muscular frame, and lean waist are on full display since all he’s wearing is a loincloth. White markings swirl over his skin, and although they almost look like tattoos, I’m pretty sure he was born with them.

  The Voxerans look so alien in some ways, and yet nearly human in others. I still sometimes catch myself staring at them in awe, unable to believe they’re real.

  But watching Droth and Charlotte kiss makes an uncomfortable flush rise in my cheeks. It’s like the connection between them is so strong that they forget the rest of the world exists when they come together like this, and even though their kiss hasn’t turned x-rated or anything, I can feel the desire that fuels it.

  Elizabeth glances over at her friend with an amused, knowing smile, and Raina purses her lips skeptically. Gemma’s large eyes have grown even wider, and she’s gazing at Charlotte and Droth with her mouth hanging open a little.

  Not wanting to stare, I wrench my focus away from the couple. As I do, I notice that Jaro has glanced away from them too, a hard expression on his face. And as if he can sense me looking at him, his eyes snap up to meet mine.

  They’re bright green, almost cat-like, and they narrow slightly as our gazes lock.

  I should look away.

  I want to look away.

  But for some reason, I can’t seem to move at all, pinned in place by his hard stare.

  2

  Jaro

  The Terran woman’s eyes are a soft blue, with just a hint of gray around the pupils, like a cloudy sky. Her strangely rounded pupils expand as I watch, their darkness overtaking the beautifu
l color of her irises. Her whole body has stiffened, her muscles tensed as if preparing to fight or flee, and I narrow my eyes slightly.

  What is it about this woman?

  I haven’t decided whether to trust any of the Terran females yet, but this one in particular rouses my suspicion. Perhaps it’s because she regards all of us with such wariness and distrust in her eyes. Perhaps it’s because no matter how often I look at her—and my gaze is drawn to her more often than I would like to admit—I can never guess what she’s thinking.

  Even now, I find myself wanting to step closer to her, to clasp her small face in both of my hands and tilt her head up toward mine so that I can stare even more deeply into her eyes. So that I can gaze into their depths until I understand her. Until I’ve uncovered her secrets.

  Because if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that this golden-haired Terran woman is hiding many secrets.

  Beside me, Droth and Charlotte finally break apart. I can hear them speaking in low voices, conferring about the progress that’s been made in stripping the ship for valuable parts and packing for our journey, but I barely register the words. My eyes are still locked on the woman called Sadie, my entire being focused on her.

  Her hair tumbles over her shoulders in soft waves, and her features are delicate and angular. Her skin is pale, but a few tiny spots of darker pigmentation are scattered across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. I don’t know what they are, but I’m filled with a sudden urge to catalogue each one of them, as if doing so will somehow help me to unravel the mystery of this woman.