Wexxon the Great Alien Warrior - Juno Wells Page 0,43

would-be assassin in the night coming to kill me for taking what she believed she was owed.

And then, I felt it. A hand wrapping around my mouth, preventing me from making a sound. Another hand wrapping around my waist as it pulled me away from the bed, my feet kicking against the air. A second later and I felt something thin being shoved into my arm, too, reminiscent of a harsh needle, its contents spilling into my veins.

In that moment, the last image that flashed across my mind was Wexxon’s warm, welcoming smile.

And then, I fell into oblivion, my world going black and cold.

I woke up underneath the night sky. There seemed to be a crisscrossed pattern of twigs right above my head, although I didn’t recognize the color of their wood. Much like everything else on Xelxar, the twigs had a magnificent shine, which almost proved to be comforting in my moment of utter confusion.

What the fuck just happened to me?

And where the hell was I? I tried to turn my head, left or right, quickly realizing that I was completely unable to move any part of my body at all. But the longer I remained underneath the twigs, the faster my heart began to beat in my chest, fear swimming all through my veins.

Am I going to die?

It was a question that I couldn’t get off my mind, the answer seeming even clearer as I heard what sounded like drums being struck somewhere in the night. The question then seemed to become how I was going to die, not if, especially as the sound of drums grew louder and louder, suggesting that whoever was coming to end my life was drawing closer to me, too.

And when the drums suddenly went quiet in the dark, I let out a silent sigh of relief. It was like I’d been granted a few more seconds of life, a few more seconds to imagine that I wasn’t going to be dead by a stranger’s hand at any minute.

A few more seconds to imagine that my warrior was going to come save me.

“What is she? Where is she from?”

“I do not know. Maybe Wexxon picked her up on his travels?”

“She is with child. I can tell by her waist.”

There was a conversation happening somewhere around me, even though I couldn’t turn my head to find its source. The voices carried right over to me, though, as clear as day, despite the darkness that surrounded me.

“A child certainly complicates the plan.”

“Yes, but removing a child is not complicated.”

“Will she live if the child is removed? Could the child even live without its mother?”

“Stop! Please!” I yelled out to the voices, hoping for some kind of mercy. “Please, don’t hurt my baby. You can hurt me, but please don’t—”

My words died right in my throat as a familiar figure moved into my line of sight.

“…Wexxon?” My voice lifted with newfound hope. “Oh my God. Thank God you’re here—”

“I am not your mate.” The stranger’s voice was lighter than Wexxon’s, the only difference that I was able to currently tell between them. It was uncanny how similar the two were in nearly every other aspect, including their size and the scars on their chests.

But as the stranger loomed closer to my face, I was able to pick up on one other difference, too.

Their eyes.

Where Wexxon’s eyes were welcoming and kind, despite his rugged exterior, this stranger had a gaze that felt just like a warning, as if there was something burning inside him that was soon going to scorch me, too.

“I saw him bring you to the arena,” the stranger continued. “I saw the way you fawned over him when he was injured by the child. I assumed you were his new mate.”

The stranger then stroked a finger down my waist, his touch as light as a feather. “Such a soft little thing you are. I am surprised he picked someone like you. And I am surprised Wexxon didn’t break you in half while impregnating you. Or did he?”

The stranger’s finger lifted toward the stitches on the side of my neck. “Does he hurt you? Has he trained you to like the pain of him? Or are you just as pathetic as the females he’s had before, the ones who’ll let him do whatever he wants just to have his attention?”

Just then, the stranger pressed their fingertips against my fresh stitches, forcing a scream to tear right through my chest.

“Ah. Well.” The stranger moved his hand