Page 5 of Lacey's Warriors

Holding Lacey’s gaze, Gwarnon said, “If you give me permission, myself and my blood brother would be honored to initiate your transition.”

“What about Roxy?”

He finally tore his attention away from Lacey and turned his dark eyes on Roxy. “Her bondmates will attend to her needs.”

Roxy’s dark eyebrows flew up, and she took a step away from the random bookcase she’d been leaning against. “My bondmates?”

Gwarnon nodded. “Cormac and Nosa…or as you call him, Rastar.”

“Rastar? Wait…what?” Roxy’s face suddenly lost all its color, her lips cheesy pale.“I don’t understand.”

Lacey moved quickly to her side, afraid her friend and only ally in this insanity was about to pass out. “Wait, Cormac and Nosa—aren’t those the guys you were dating back on Earth?”

Both women spun as a man’s deep voice said, “Roxy,” from the doorway.

Roxy let out a weird moan, and Lacey had to prop her friend up for a moment as they both stared at the two men coming their way. One of them had black skin that gleamed with hints of purple and blue in a way no human’s skin ever could. He had a slight feline cast to his features and ears pointed like an elf’s but pierced with silver rings. His tanned partner’s long hair gleamed with streaks of every shade of brown and gold imaginable. They both wore what looked to be some kind of skintight black military uniform, complete with bars on their shoulders.

“What the fuck is going on?” Roxy snarled as she left Lacey’s hold and took two furious steps forward.

“We wish you the blessings of the Lord of Life,” the NevShoos said from above. “We will leave you in privacy for your courtship. You have five galactic days to make the transition, or we will be forced to seek alternative methods for their training.”

“Understood.” Gwarnon bowed to Lacey and took a step closer. “If you will come with me,alyah? There is someone I want you to meet.”

“Hell no.” Lacey glanced over at her friend as panic made her twitchy. “No way, I’m staying with Roxy.”

At this point, her friend threw her hands into the air and yelled, “This whole time—thiswhole damn time—you’ve lied to me! You’re fucking aliens! I can’t believe you’re fuckingaliensand you didn’t tell me! God, I almost had a threesome with ET!”

“On second thought,” Lacey said as she moved next to Gwarnon. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

Confused didn’t even begin to describe Lacey’s state of mind as she followed the somehow familiar, ridiculously handsome alien out of the oddly cluttered room that had been her home these past few hours…days…whatever. She was so out of it, she didn’t even know what month it was, or what year. For all she knew, when the alien slavers kidnapped her from Earth and brought her to be some crazy ass gladiator in another galaxy, decades had passed while Lacey was held in some kind of weird suspended and unconscious state.

Her daughter might be an old woman by now.

“What year is it?” she rasped, her throat tight with fear.

Gwarnon led her into a nearby room, this one a pale cream and decorated in a normal style compared to the eccentric Earth clutter she’d just come from.

“The Kadothian date is the year 150,837, the Galactic year is 929,349 of the Iwolliz Cycle,” he replied as he moved closer to her, revealing streaks of silver lightening surrounding the pupil of his deep navy gaze.

“No, I meant on Earth. What year is it on Earth? How long have we been here? Months, days, years?”

“Days,” he took another step toward her, the silky white fall of his hair catching the light.

Her shoulders lost some of their stiffness as she blew out a soft breath. “Okay, days. That’s not too bad.”

“I cannot believe you’re real,” he breathed out as his gaze searched her face. The silver streaks, like lightning in his dark blue eyes, flashed with emotion. “I was told you were dead.”

“No, I’m alive. At least, I think I am. Maybe this is heaven…or purgatory.”

“What is purgatory?” the man asked. His chest flexed in a distracting manner through the open front of his shirt.

“Never mind.” She forced her gaze off the strong tendons of his sexy throat—yes, even his throat was sexy—and said, “Who told you I was dead?”

“My mother,” he growled. “Out of all the many wounds she has inflicted on my soul, this one is the deepest.”

“You aren’t making any sense.” Her heart sped up and, to calm herself, she used her military training to keep from losing her shit. “Why would your mom lie about me being dead? I don’t even know her.”

“That is a discussion for another time.” He took a step closer, near enough that she could smell his delicious cologne. It reminded her of an exotic incense. “My bride, may I kiss you?”

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