WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series by Alana Khan (large screen ebook reader txt) 📗

All the movement seemed to stop as a contingent of our enemies entered from the rear. Only these weren’t Skylosians, I now know these were offworlders, another species who had obviously come from afar. At the time all I could do was gape in speechless shock at these strange beings.

Purple-skinned males approached as the sea of our enemies parted for them. They drove a vehicle the likes of which I’d never seen. It was completely enclosed and hovered off the ground. It was a silent machine.

Five purple males emerged from the fantastical vehicle. Their clothing was made of fabric, not the animal skins Skylosians wore. They surveyed the carnage as if they were looking at a garden filled with beautiful blooms. The sight of my people dead, dying, bleeding, and crying seemed to please them.

I hadn’t known of other planets then. Now I understand these were invaders who had chosen to align with Skylose’s strongest tribe in order to harvest their enemy and steal males to fight for them. Somehow the offworlders had found out our secret and knew we could shift. Perhaps our enemies had discovered our closely guarded secret and told them in order to spare their own lives. We had been betrayed by our own people. It crushes my soul to this day.

They strode to our group of hearty males and yanked us out of our cluster one by one. They pulled my friend Grennal out first and demanded he open his mouth to inspect his teeth. When he refused, they pointed a weapon at him and a ray of light beamed from the end of it. Somehow the powerful light killed him.

The purple male in charge barely gave Grennal a glance as he lay charred and unmoving at his feet. “I trust the rest of you will be more cooperative,” he ground out.

Uncle Tresor whispered, “Revenge.” I followed his guidance and knew it was my duty to live. Knew that one day I would avenge my people. It was a good cause. I could think of none other.

They inspected us one by one, testing our strength and fitness for battle.

Even after being beaten and ravaged, my mother still fought them. While the purple males examined us, the carnage in the village continued.

My heart almost stops beating in my chest as I recall the sight of the marauding chieftain dragging my mother off the ground by her hair and forcing her to stand with several other females in front of the purple males’ leader.

When she refused his order to kneel, the chieftain pulled his sword from the scabbard on his back. The purple male accepted the sword, swung it across his body to one shoulder, and then with such swift force I heard it whistle, he sliced through the air, lopping my mother’s head from her shoulders as if he was slaughtering livestock.

Every muscle in my body clenches as the scene plays in my mind so slowly I can see every moment. My mother's face, her eyes wide, her scream of terror, the heartbreaking howl of my inner beast filling my head, and my uncle, her brother, placing his hand on my upper arm, biting into it so hard it’s as if he’s squeezing me this very minima.

I can see the exact moment her head was separated from her neck, and then I see no more because my younger self was smart enough to squeeze his eyes closed as the howl in his head was given voice.

The rest of the memory is mostly a blur. My grief was so intense, it was a blessing when I was forced to shift into my canine form and was injected with something that controlled my ability to shift back. Perhaps the decade of darkness was a good thing. It kept me from remembering any of this.

Chapter Five

Bayne

I stood still as a statue for I don’t know how long, maybe minimas, maybe hoaras. When I came to my senses, my broadsword was still in my hand. I hadn’t moved.

I let it clatter to the floor, wanting to never hold the abominable thing again. I imagine it will always remind me of that day, of my mother.

I pull off my loincloth and enter the shower, washing my pelt and scrubbing my skin until it feels raw. It’s as if I’m trying to wash the blood and smell of fire off my fur and skin, as if it will erase the memory itself. It won’t, I know. Nothing will ever make the pictures of what happened that day go away. They’re imprinted on my brain.

Although I’ve pushed those memories out of my mind for a decade, now I sift through them, searching for pictures of those five purple males. I vowed revenge as a young male, then spent a long time in canine form.

Yes, hunt them, kill them. A deep growl reverberates through my body.

I agree, I assure WarDog,

Now I have the means to track them down and kill them. Try as I might, I can’t see any of their faces. Perhaps my mind is doing me a kindness by hiding this from me.

The water has long since turned cold, but I keep scrubbing, keep abusing my body with the frigid water, trying to make the horrendous memory recede to where it has hidden all these annums. It won’t.

At last, I turn off the shower and dry myself, then stand in front of the mirror. I inspect myself. I’m a grown male. I’m strong, powerful. I’ve fought in the arena, albeit in my shifted form. I vow to find my enemies. Not the males of my homeworld which the Intergalactic Database tells me was almost destroyed by offworlders shortly after I was taken.

No. I vow to myself and to my canine, we will find and destroy those purple males who came