Page 4 of Beauty and the Alien Beast
“No. That’s the problem with the sudden huge demand for female earthlings. The Omers are greedy and are ordering them too fast, but they don’t pay us enough up front, so we always run out of supplies.” Varbec’s voice dripped with resentment. “I can’t wait to get to Planet Omers so we can get paid.”
I must have driftedoff in the middle of their strange conversation because I didn’t remember anything after that. But now, mulling over the aliens’ dialogue, I touched my throat and felt a small tender spot just over my voice box.
This is it. This is real. I’ve been abducted by aliens.
And I’m going to be “conditioned” by horned aliens called “Omers” and then forced to have sex with “Wulfaen Gladiators” who turn into furry beasts.
Fuck. My. Life.
I was terrified but had to keep my shit together to cope with the situation and figure out a way back home.
Glancing around the room, I thought it was strange that I was alone in a space that was so huge my cage took up very little of it. And then there were all the images on the walls of an awe-inspiring alien world.
Am I already on Planet Omers? And can I survive here if I manage to escape? Eat the food? Breathe the air?
As I stared at the shifting images, one thing I noticed was the huge swaths of wilderness between the shining cities, trees the size of skyscrapers and bizarre vegetation. And here I was, a city girl born and bred, with absolutely no experience in wilderness survival.
But I was getting ahead of myself. First, I had to escape and then figure out a way back to Earth.
My first objective was to find out who the hell the Omers and Wulfaen were and then show them they’d messed with the wrong damn woman. My second was to negotiate my freedom, which seemed like a long shot at best. In any event, I wasn’t going down without a fucking fight. And I was going to survive and find a way out of here.
My head snapped in the direction of the door that opened across the showroom. A whole panel of the wall simply slid aside, letting in a pair of very tall figures. They were speaking to each other in rumbling, musical voices with a faint, unfamiliar accent.
I tensed as they approached.
More aliens. A different species this time.
Both had blue skin and were gigantic, broad-shouldered with four arms, one pair set beneath the other, ending in broad, thick-fingered hands. Their strong-featured, high-cheekboned faces looked almost human, except when they spoke, sharp teeth flashed behind their lips. One had golden eyes, the other orange. Both males wore a sort of close-fitting dark-gray armor of some leathery-looking stuff that left their arms bare save for sheaths covering their forearms. They both had pointed ears and two large bull-like jet-black horns protruding from their heads.
So… these must be the Omers.
3
Teken
It wasthe tenth day of the fifth month—just as the blooming season was ending—and I was late for my urgent meeting with my pack elders, the oldest Gladiators who preserved pack history and guided us with their knowledge.
The warm air blew against my skin as I stepped outside my quarters and strode down the dirt path that sliced through several rows of large stone-façade dwellings.
It was quiet, the distant sounds of Gladiators drifting to me as I continued along the pathway and through the central courtyard with a practice arena that we used to train our riding dogs. A few Gladiators were milling around, and all inclined their heads to me with one word of greeting. “Alpha.”
I responded, “Gladiator,” to each while traversing away and exiting the courtyard that faced a short road leading to our massive arena, the ruin where our ancestors had once fought as slaves and had become the symbol of our reborn order of the Wulfaen Gladiators.
Finally, inside the arena, I quickly made my way across the ground and stepped through the opening that would lead me deep within, past pens where my forefathers had slept, bled, and had sex with their mates.
Journeying by the memorials of ancient skulls perched on the hilts of equally ancient swords, each blade driven into the rock of their former prison, I finally reached the council chamber, deep in the underground crypt where the most honored of our ancestors were buried.
Surrounded by niches full of skulls, five ancient elder Gladiators stood, talking and gesturing animatedly. They all had shaved heads and long beards, and their sleeveless black robes rustled as they argued.
Their voices quieted when I entered, and they stood at attention, acknowledging me with, “Greetings, Alpha Teken.”
I rumbled back, “Elders,” before storming over to my stone throne and sitting. “So? What’s the purpose of this meeting?”
“We’ve received word from the alphas from sectors one and two,” the elder of peace said solemnly as he tugged his pure-white beard.
His eyes were an unusual dark blue-green, which I had inherited. He was the oldest, and despite his position, he was still the most skilled and powerful warrior among them. He was also my grandfather and guardian, and I called him by his first name, Joanor.
“Both had to hunt and kill several of their Gladiators who succumbed to the mating sickness, sending their Wulfaen feral. Elders from both sectors suspect that we do not have long before the sickness spreads throughout the Gladiator race.” He glanced at each elder, who nodded in turn. “And we all agree.”
