Page 39 of The Dreamer and the Deep Space Warrior (Xaal Alien Romance #1)

Isobel

The other Xaal collected her some indefinite time later.

She’d spent the time pacing her enclosure, meaning she took two and a half steps in one direction only to turn around again.

When they opened the door and pulled her out, she let them.

Even with her cooperation, they pushed her forward while uttering what she imagined were threats in Xaala.

Isobel tried to see outside of the ship’s hatch, but before she could, Breg lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder without warning. When he started running, she was jostled around violently, forced to keep her back and abdomen tense to avoid hitting her head repeatedly on his armor.

She was unable to get her bearings from such a position. All she knew was the humidity was so thick that it was like a muggy caress. So dense it made it difficult to take a full breath.

Her muscles gave out fully after twenty or thirty minutes, and the world rushed by in blurs of green and black.

Just when the pain of knocking her head against Breg’s armor became so unbearable she thought she would pass out, he finally came to a stop.

The moment he did, he tossed her on a platform that rocked with the impact.

“What are you doing?” she asked, scrambling to her knees. But between the spinning in her vision and the wobbling beneath her, she fell back again.

Breg only growled at her before stepping away.

When she was able to regain some semblance of balance, she looked at her surroundings.

She was in a boat—an old one, if the gashes and wear in the dark wood were any indication.

Two crimson suns sat low in the sky like two bloodshot eyes.

The body of water they were on was a murky teal anywhere dark algae didn’t cover.

Fog danced along the top further out, and she felt as if she was being watched by something primordial and full of hunger.

Despite the warmth, she shivered.

Tearing her eyes away from the mist, she looked at the shoreline.

Trees thicker and larger than any she’d ever seen surrounded them.

The area was lush and verdant, with curtains of vines and mossy webbing draped across the trees, connecting them.

It was so unlike the woods on the Nott estate and so much …

more . Denser, deeper, darker . An ancient presence lingered.

Without knowing how, she knew this planet was far older than hers.

A Xaal swung over the side of the makeshift boat, rocking it so violently she feared it would tip.

Instinctively, she backed away from him until she realized that it was only Andrix, Driskos in tow.

Andrix spared her a single glance before cutting them away from the shore.

Driskos let out a low whine and settled down beside him, red eyes flicking nervously to either side.

It wasn’t long before the fog encompassed them.

The suns’ watchful gaze and that dark forest disappeared as they moved further in.

Isobel had the distinct feeling of being adrift in an endless gray void .

Perhaps she was only in a dream. One where everything moved slowly and the fog was alive and scheming. One where the monsters had full control and she was at their mercy.

She had entered yet another world in which she didn’t belong.

More than once, something moved in her peripherals, but when she turned to catch sight of it, it would be gone, sinking beneath the mist.

“Krugdar,” Andrix said, causing her to jump. Driskos’s ears and antennae twitched, but he didn’t lift his head.

“What?” she asked hoarsely, looking over her shoulder.

“The beasts. They are assassins, lurking beneath the surface and springing up to steal their mark and drag them below. By the time you’ve realized what’s occurred, it’s too late.”

Isobel backed away from the side of the vessel.

“Like a crocodile?” She had read about them in one of her father’s books on animals around the world.

They’d fascinated her, and he’d had her convinced they lived in the small pond located on the estate.

Once, when Henry went swimming, Isobel had feared for his life, and he’d finally told her their father fibbed about it.

Andrix made a noncommittal noise. “Crocodile,” he repeated to himself. He gazed across the water, his chest expanding with every complete rotation of the oars. When his focus returned to her, the cover over his eyes flashed gold before going back to black.

“Where are we going and what’s going to happen once we get there?”

He heaved a long exhale, apparently already annoyed with her questions. “An island. There, a blood challenge between your Xaal and the Qon of Clan Rax will take place.”

And if Ved was coming, he wouldn’t refuse it.

“What—”

“Shut up,” Andrix said in a sharp tone.

She snapped her teeth together and immediately heard other Xaal speaking in the distance. If she could hear them, they could definitely hear her.

Several minutes later, Andrix broke the tense silence, speaking low and fast. “We are here. Stay quiet, comply. The qon doesn’t need you alive once he has what he wants. Best to not remind him of the fact.” Even though she couldn’t see his face, she felt the warning in his stare.

Did he truly care what happened to her, though? And if so, why?

The boat hit the shore with a scraping sound and then Andrix was grabbing her up. He handled her less violently than the others but still threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

At least he wasn’t running.

Andrix came to a halt, and a conversation transpired while Isobel hung there. It occurred to her that she was hearing far more voices and movement than belonged to only five Xaal. Just as she was contemplating the significance of that, Driskos padded toward her.

“Hello, boy,” she dared to whisper. When she reached her hand out to him, he nudged it with his big head. Before she could give him a truly good scritch behind the ears, Andrix gave the hound a command, and he trotted away, huffing.

Finally, Andrix set her down farther inland. She moved away from him until her back was pressed to a thick tree. The sturdiness of it was a relief after being carried and bobbing in a boat. From her new sentry spot, she took in the scene before her.

There were now a dozen or more Xaal, and besides the brief glances, they paid little attention to her.

Half of them were building a pyre of some sort.

As the last of the suns’ rays dwindled, it was lit, and the flames spiraled upward.

As she scanned the crowd, trying to find the ones she recognized, one silver-armored Xaal with two dark bands wrapped around his biceps stood out from the rest, surveying them as they worked.

The qon.

So, this was the Xaal responsible for her capture. The one who wanted to hurt Ved so badly that he’d orchestrated this entire scheme. A ferocity she’d never felt before rushed through her—pure hatred.

Someone garbled in Xaala behind her, startling her from her bitterness and causing her to look over her shoulder for the first time.

Not but ten paces from her was a captured Xaal.

He was bound by thick cords between two trees, and she could tell he’d been forced to his knees in order to do so.

He had no armor on besides his helmet, and every inch of him showed the abuse he’d endured.

His chest, stomach, and thighs were crisscrossed with deep lacerations.

Without thought, she crept her way to him, stopping only once to ensure no one was paying attention. They were all occupied—but when she turned back around, it was the bound Xaal’s helmet that brought her up short.

Dark metal, almost black. So similar to Ved’s that it was uncanny.

“Kravis?” she whispered.

The Xaal lifted his head as much as he could with the strange way they had tied him.

He was alive.

“Are you well? Are you—” She cut herself off. Bloody hell. Of course he wasn’t well. He’d been beaten and tortured. And he probably couldn’t understand her anyway.

Instead, she approached hesitantly, and when she was kneeling right in front of him, she said, “Ved.”

His chest heaved at the mention of his bruvya’s name.

“Kravis,” she said, pointing to his chest. “Vay?”

“Vay,” he rasped .

She pointed to herself. “Isobel.”

His eye shields flashed red, and he sniffed audibly. She wanted to say something else, something that could comfort them both, but she found there were no words to do so. Instead, they stared at each other—each an extension of Ved.

And that would have to be enough.

Suddenly, a roar split the humid air. It was a war cry—a primal threat and a violent promise. Isobel turned to look at the gathered Xaal. They shifted on their feet and rolled their shoulders back as if they knew what force was coming for them.

Kravis’s eye shields burned red, and he tried to straighten his spine. He rasped something, the sound thick and guttural.

A knowing settled in the chambers of Isobel’s heart.

Ved was here. He’d come for them.