Page 3 of Rescued By the Alien Acolyte

His hooded blue gaze rakes over me with bold indecency. Like he’s committing every feminine curve to memory through my bodysuit’s thin synth-weave panels. Its pure objectification andit absolutely shouldn’t make my skin prickle with a flustered heat sparking low in my belly, which I attempt to quash.

“Your ignorant soul needs the Solar Nexus’ purifying truth,” Finzar continues. “And I am the one to deliver you. I will be the one to… strip away your illusions and claim the inner fire for the glory of the Solar Gods.”

He prowls even closer. Every shift of his muscular torso radiates a simmering threat and wicked promise I definitely don’t want any part of. I should be concentrating on the dire situation I’ve found myself in not…whatever this is. Finzar looms over me now, so close his wood smoke scent is like a physical caress.

I don’t like it. Not even a little. At all. Nope.

“You are no frightened damsel awaiting gentle blessings into the Nexus,” he husks, a cruel smile widening to flicker fangs. “You are a scorching flame of profanity. And consecrating your arrogance demands my most searing… intimate rites.”

The hunger blazing behind his words sends a fresh shiver of trepidation and something far more unsettling through me. What exactly does this brutish disciple have in mind?

Whatever twisted notion of “intimate rites” Finzar plans, I have the sinking feeling I’m about to discover them firsthand. But even as the robed zealots close in and rough hands seize my arms, I am captivated by the feverish intensity in Finzar’s gaze.

What kind of depraved, unholy rites is this charismatic extremist capable of… and why does a reckless part of me crave finding out?

two

Finzar

I stalk around thewreckage the heretic has caused, feeling the crunch of shattered metal under my boots. Her craft smashed through the entrance of our sacred cavern sanctuary. The crumpled metal reeks of burnt fuel and chemicals, foreign smells violating this hallowed space. How dare she defile these grounds with such reckless destruction!

More unsettling is the way she faces my presence—her fiery eyes roving over my form instead of cowering in fear. This arrogant female. Can’t she feel the power of the Solar Nexus radiating from me? I am honed to break even the most stubborn of wills. This heretic will be no exception. Despite her bonds, she blazes with a fire I have not encountered in countless cycles of purification rituals. Yet, despite my training, it stirs something unfamiliar within me—a hunger that goes beyond my sworn duty to the Nexus.

I circle her slowly, drinking in every detail. Her feminine form is in a bodysuit that leaves little to the imagination,revealing curves that my hands itch to explore. But it’s the fierce determination in her eyes that truly captivates me. She meets my gaze without flinching, a challenge in every line of her body.

Part of me wants to lash out, to punish her smirking lips with my fangs. To crush every flicker of resistance until she writhes at my feet, begging for the revelations I can bestow upon her when I strip away her ignorance. To make her understand the folly of her arrogance as I claim every inch of her feminine flesh as my own.

“Your name, apostate,” I demand, my voice a low growl, each word dripping with authority. My fingers twitch, eager to tighten around her throat. “Speak it so I may properly dedicate your cleansing to the Solar Gods.”

She meets my gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Loelle,” she spits, as if her name itself is a weapon. “Not that it matters to you, sun scum.”

I roll her name on my tongue, tasting it. Letting the syllables caress my lips the way I want to touch her. Loelle. It suits her—wild and untamed, like the scorching winds of the Aridium desert. Her face remains defiant, but there is a spark in her eyes that is new. Impure needs clench my loins, which I ruthlessly leash. My creed is supposed to extinguish such base cravings. My sole purpose is as our dark blade, using brutality to make defiant souls submit to our ways. To purge the unworthy blasphemers against our teachings.

“Loelle,” I repeat, tasting the syllables. “You’ll remember this moment as the beginning of your salvation. Take her to the purification chambers,” I order my acolytes, never breaking eye contact with the apostate. “I will oversee this one’s cleansing personally.”

They haul her off, her curses echoing through the cavern as she struggles. I watch the sway of her hips as she’s dragged away,noting the way the guards struggle to contain her fiery spirit. Her defiance is a tantalizing promise of the battle to come.

Loelle.

I will see her cleansed. Her flesh will burn and blister, her will shall shatter. Then I will bring her salvation, and she will be grateful to receive it.

I turn back toward the entrance, staring at the storm outside. A strange sensation is churning in my chest, one I have never felt before. I do not care for it. It is a weakness, one I must overcome.

“Secure the wreck and the temple,” I say, knowing the acolytes will obey. “We are too close to the Solstice and must remain vigilant. Our enemies grow bolder, and while their attacks are futile, they always leave chaos in their wake.”

“It shall be done, Master Finzar,” one of them says, bowing his head.

“Go then. Make haste; time is of the essence.”

The acolytes bow their heads in unison and depart. They will not question my orders.

“May the light of the sun burn bright within us,” I whisper, before turning back to follow Loelle to her destiny.

Her fate is sealed, and I will be the one to see it fulfilled.

I head toward the purification chamber at a measured pace, my robes swirling around me. There is no need to rush, for this ritual will take time and I must prepare myself.

As I walk down the winding corridors, the sounds of her curses and struggles grow louder. It is good that she is so defiant. The flames will burn all the brighter for it.

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