Her Alien Rebel by Presley Hall
Felicity
My heart is poundingin my chest so hard that it hurts, my mind reeling. In the space of a few seconds, I’ve stumbled across a strange man coming out of the trees, been grabbed and spun into his arms before I could do more than let out a startled yelp, and now there’s a knife of considerable size pressed into my ribs. I almost don’t hear his question over the thundering of my pulse in my ears.
Fuck. I’m so fucking screwed.I don’t even have a weapon.
Just my luck, I step away from the camp for a few damn minutes and wind up almost tripping over someone who wants to kill me.
This fucking planet.
“Where are the Voxerans?” the man behind me asks again, his voice a threatening rumble.
His arm tightens across my body, and I’m suddenly very aware of his broad chest against my back, hard and solid, and the flex of his forearm as he holds me in place. It’s the last thing I should be thinking about right now… but it sends a flush over me that’s directly at odds with the fear snaking its way down my spine. His voice sounds gruff and deep, and the vaguely familiar sound, combined with the pearlescent blue tint of the arm pressed against me and his insistent question, brings me to the sudden realization of who he must be.
I put two and two together and come up with Ren, the man Droth spoke with over the communicator.
“You’re the one who’s come to rescue the Voxerans.” I try to keep my voice steady despite the predicament I’ve found myself in. “You’re Ren.”
I expect him to let me go once I say those words, maybe even apologize for his behavior, but that’s not what happens.
Instead, I feel him tense even more, the blade pricking at my skin beneath my wrap-around top a little as his arm slides up to press against my throat—not hard enough to keep me from speaking, but enough that I’m very aware of how strong the man holding me is. He could snap my neck with one quick movement, and I know I need to be careful.
If only he would settle down for just a second and let me get my thoughts together.
“Who the slanch are you?” he growls, his voice commanding. “What do you know about the Voxerans and their plans?” He pokes me again with the knife. “Speak!”
All right, this is getting ridiculous.
I twist in his grasp—not too hard, since he has a hefty knife pressed against a very vulnerable spot. It’s probably a dumb move, but I can’t help it. Of all the Voxerans I’ve met so far, this Ren person is by far the most hard-nosed and suspicious, and it’s fucking irritating. There’s enough danger on this planet as it is without me getting almost gutted by the very man who’s supposed to be here to rescue us.
“Let me fucking go and I’ll tell you, you aggravating blue dickhead!”
I struggle in his hold again, trying to twist out from under his massive forearm, but before I can say anything else, I hear a crashing of trees and brush behind us. I manage to get my head around just enough to see Droth and some of the others coming toward us. Charlotte, Elizabeth, Axen, Kaide, Gemma and some others—a pretty large group of them.
I let out a sigh of relief. Just in time. At least now this asshole will let go of me.
“Don’t harm her!” Droth calls out, holding up one hand as he comes into the small clearing where Ren has me trapped. “She’s one of these Terran women, like the others with us. She’s not an enemy.”
Ren lets out a grunt. “She’s with you? They’re with you?”
I feel the knife pull back just a little, but not much. Not enough for me to feel better about the situation. And that broad forearm is still holding me tightly against him, enough for me to feel every line of his muscular body pressed against mine.
“Yes.” Droth comes up short, stopping in front of us. “A few of the other warriors and I have found mates among them, and they’ve been living with us. We’ve accepted them as part of our group and have given them our protection.” He glances at me apologetically before shifting his focus back to Ren. “I should have explained more on the transmission, but with so little time to speak, I was too focused on the details of getting you here undetected. I didn’t expect you to run into one of them like this.”
Behind me, I feel Ren nod. His forearm immediately relaxes across my chest, releasing me so that I can stumble forward and get my first good breath in a few minutes. I suck in air quickly as I turn around and see him clearly for the first time, taking in the full view of the man who almost just stabbed me.
At first glance, he looks similar to the other Voxerans. Extremely tall, hugely muscular and blue-skinned, with those cat-like eyes that the others have. But when I peer closer, I can see that it’s not just his deep, gruff voice that seems different to me.
He looks more striking than any other Voxeran I’ve seen, his features sharp and intense, and something about him makes me shiver despite the warmth and humidity of the day. It’s not from fear, either, despite the fact that he just had his arm around my throat and a knife at my ribs. It’s something else, almost like that strange shiver of anticipation I felt a few days ago when I listened to Droth speak to him over the communicator.
Of course, he’s gorgeous too, just like all of them—although he seems a bit older. His features are strong and unlined, but he has silver streaking his thick dark hair, and as he turns his head, I notice that one side of his face is heavily scarred, as if he’s been in an accident of some kind. It doesn’t take away from how handsome he is, though. It just makes him seem more intense and almost dangerous. All the Voxeran warriors are dangerous in their own way, but this is different.
“I apologize for threatening you,” he says stiffly, sheathing the knife. “I didn’t realize you were with my people. I would not have harmed you once I knew you were not a threat.”
The apology seems sincere, even considering the cold formality of his tone, but despite his words and Droth’s reassurances, I can still see distrust burning in his eyes as he looks at me. It’s plain in those jade green irises of his, and I don’t like it one bit.
“Come with me,” Droth tells Ren, jerking his head in the direction of the camp. “We’ve been working on a plan to escape Nuthora once you arrived. We’ll go over the details with you once you’ve had a chance to eat and rest a bit. I know it was a long journey to get here, and we’re grateful for it.”
Ren nods sharply, obeying Droth with an immediacy that reminds me of a well-trained soldier—which, of course, he probably is. A warrior, like all the other Voxerans. I wonder what his part was in the events that resulted in Droth and his men being banished here. There must be a story there. He’s clearly deeply loyal to Droth. It’s a noble quality, but I still don’t trust him entirely, just as he clearly doesn’t trust me.
Well, at least the feeling is mutual.
The others trail after Ren and Droth to head back to camp, and I follow, although I hang back a little as I try to shake off the lingering feeling left in me from my encounter with him. I knew he was coming, of course, but this wasn’t what I expected at all. Stumbling across him in the woods like that, ending up in his arms with a knife in my ribs—that wasn’t at all how I imagined our rescue starting, and it’s difficult to shrug it off.
You don’t have to like him,I tell myself firmly as I push through the trees, hurrying after the others. And once we get off this planet, you’ll never have to see him again.
Ren is hard-edged and gruff in an off-putting way, obviously irritatingly single-minded, and quick to jump to conclusions. In short, absolutely nothing that I find endearing about a person.
But I also can’t seem to shake off the memory of his hard chest against my back, his body rigid against mine, or the deep rumble of his voice as he spoke. Even thinking about it sends another shiver down my spine.
Don’t think about it,I tell myself.
Soon, we’ll be off Nuthora, and there will be plenty of other things to focus on, like the possible return of Droth and his men to Vox, and what the other women and I will do once we get there. It’s one thing to live among the alien warriors here, but on their planet, we’ll be outsiders to an even greater degree. And of course, there’s the fact that Droth was part of a rebellion against his uncle. Whether we go back to Vox or somewhere else entirely, there’s a lot more to worry about than Ren’s dominating presence and how it makes me feel.
Still, despite my best efforts, the memory of his arms around me lingers all the way back to camp.
I have a feeling it’s not going to fade away anytime soon.
