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  Caged with the Beast

  Captives of the Dark Moon

  Aline Ash

  © 2020 Aline Ash

  Captives of the Dark Moon – Book One

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Connect with Aline Ash

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Kidnapped from Earth and locked inside a nightmare, Marissa's only hope is a notorious killer with fangs.

  Marissa

  I'm in the hellhole known as Gerr' a prison moon, light years away from home. My crime? Being abducted by an alien race who then deemed me useless.

  I might be small, but I am not fragile. When my cellmates threaten me, I fight back with fists blazing. But after the fight goes bad, the punishment I face is even worse... I am shackled and thrust into a cell with him — Kon, a killer given the moniker "Beast" by the other criminals. He's big and intimidating, a predator everyone fears.

  I should despise him. I became a cop to put people like him away. Too bad he is also irresistibly hot and the more time I spend with him the more attached I'm becoming. Is this love?

  Kon

  One look at her small quivering body and I know she doesn't belong here. It's called a prison, but Gerr' a is a kill or be killed game. All for alien entertainment. The more ruthless we are, the more points we get.

  She is completely at my mercy. Should I end her miserable life, or should I protect Marissa even if this means I risk everything? But as I enjoy my power over her, her power over me grows just as strong. I need to snap out of it. Now. But can I?

  If you like irresistible alpha aliens and fierce heroines who fight back even in the darkest place, read this paranormal alien romance. This book is standalone, with no cheating, no cliff hanger, and a guaranteed happy ever after.

  Chapter One

  Marissa

  “Keep moving.”

  He punctuates his words with a hard shove in the back, sending me stumbling forward. I manage to catch myself and avoid falling face first on the hard floor below my feet, but just barely.

  “Asshole,” I grumble.

  Two of the large lizard-people march me through a labyrinth of corridors. The walls are all made of the same burnished metal and bear very few distinctive markings. I couldn’t find my way out of this fucking maze if I wanted to.

  “Where are you taking me?” I protest.

  “Silence,” hisses one of my guards. “You will not speak unless spoken to.”

  I cut a glance at the two stone-faced guards who are flanking me and feel the same shiver run up my spine as when I first laid eyes on these creatures when I was taken.

  We turn one more corner, and I find myself standing before what looks like a jail cell. A wall of thick bars fifty feet long stands before me. One of the guards touches a keypad on the wall, and a section of the bars slides upward. I feel a rough hand in the middle of my back shove me inward. I stumble through the doorway and spin around in time to see the bars come back down, locking into place with an audible click.

  I rush to the door, reaching for the thick bars, and hear a sound like crackling energy when it’s too late. As my fingers curl around the metal, my entire body seizes up, and a white-hot burst of energy sizzles through me, setting my every nerve ending on fire.

  I cry out as I’m blown backward. My hands tingle wildly and I feel my body vibrating, twitching. And all around me, I hear a guttural hissing noise that sounds somewhat like laughter.

  Looking up, I see the two guards standing on the other side of the bars, a look of what can only be described as amusement on their otherwise blank, reptilian faces, that strange roaring sound coming out of their mouths. They turn and walk off, slapping each other on the back and continue to laugh like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

  “Fuck you guys!” I call after them.

  I sit still for a long moment, trying to gather my wits about me and shake off the effects of being electrocuted. As I slowly come back to myself, I realize I’m not alone. I turn and see a group of six more of those fucking lizard-people leaning against the far wall, watching me. They are speaking quietly amongst themselves, that same guttural, hissing laughter ringing in my ears.

  It takes me a minute to figure out what’s wrong with this picture, but then it hits me hard. If I’m not mistaken, it looks like there are both male and females housed in this prison cell. Those that look feminine wear short tunics and males are all bare-chested and have only some sort of breeches on their alligator-like bodies. The females of the species are as large and powerful looking as the men. They look like they can hold their own in any fight, so I guess this explains why both genders are kept together.

  They’re the same species of lizard-person as the guards who pushed me into this fucking cell—Gargolians. I learned that after my abduction. I was brought to their planet, Gargole, subjected to a seemingly endless series of invasive and painful tests, where I was apparently deemed to not be a match for whatever they were testing me for. After that, I was sent to some kind of sham tribunal that took all of an hour before they sent me to this prison on a moon called Gerr’a. From what I gather, the moon is an artificial construct built specifically to house their incarcerated prisoners, and it sits in orbit around their home planet. I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of science fiction movies in my time - I just never thought I would be living in one.

  I glare at the six Gargolians who are watching me, something close to grins on their almost scaly expressionless faces

  “Help you with something?” I spit, which earns me more of that disturbing laughter.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The best thing I can do right now is calm down and focus. Of course, keeping calm isn’t exactly easy with six massive lizard-people staring at me with those dead eyes of theirs.

  After a few months in this alien, straight-out-of-hell saga, I’m still struggling to get used to everything that’s happening. If you had asked me before I was taken whether or not aliens existed, I would have said no. Honestly, it wasn’t something I ever gave much thought to. At least not until I was jumped by a
pair of these fucking lizard-people and beamed up to their ship or whatever the fuck they did to me.

  “Okay, calm down,” I mutter to myself. “Calm down, Marissa, and keep your head.”

  I look around the cell, taking in my surroundings, but mostly trying to keep myself from staring at my cellmates. The chamber is circular, fifty feet wide at its widest point. It’s twenty-five feet high or so and shafts of sunlight stream through the half dozen holes cut into the ceiling. The walls are all rough-hewn rock of a dark reddish-brown color—it’s as if the chamber has been cut straight out of the earth. And in the walls, it looks like long hollows have been scooped out of the stone. I assume those are for sleeping.

  The chamber feels damp and there’s an earthy, almost coppery tinge in the air. I cut a glance at my cellmates and see that they’re still standing in a casual group, talking to one another, casting furtive glances at me. It sends cold tendrils slithering up my back, my every instinct telling me they’re up to no good.

  My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and my throat is dry and scratchy. I need a drink in the worst way possible. It’s then I notice the small waterfall trickling down from the wall opposite the door they shoved me through. Keeping an eye on the six Gargolians in my peripheral vision, I make my way over to the waterfall.

  It empties into a small natural rock basin with a soft hiss I hold out my hands and scoop some water into my mouth. It’s cold and refreshing and soothes my aching throat. My thirst quenched, I find a cutout in the wall as far away from the Gargolians as I can get and sit down on the edge.

  I scrub my face with my hands, but I’m keeping an eye on the Gargolians, my body tense and the adrenaline swirling through my veins. I try to control my breath and focus on slowing my racing heart. At the same time, I try to control the expressions on my face, doing my best to wear a mask of cool indifference. I know these types and I cannot show fear. I must project an image of strength.

  It’s not easy though. I consider myself a tough, strong woman—I was a cop back home, so I had to be—but these aliens terrify me. They’re all tall and thick through the chest and shoulders. Their arms and legs are all tightly corded muscle that ripples whenever they move.

  The Gargolians are all covered in scales, some lighter and some darker. Some have colorful patterns on their scales and some don’t, but they all have uniquely colored stripes run down the sides of their bodies. The Gargolians have yellow snake eyes with black diamond-shaped irises, and their faces end in blunt muzzles that are filled with sharp, pointy teeth.

  To me, they look like walking alligators and they are the stuff of absolute nightmares. In the months I’ve been their captive, the one thing I’ve come to learn about the Gargolians is that they are a violent species and seem to love fighting. I can’t count the number of vicious, brutal fights in the pens I’ve been kept in. I can’t imagine that this place is going to be any different. In fact, given that I see fewer guards, I imagine this place is going to be worse.

  Which makes it kind of imperative that I keep my head down and avoid drawing attention to myself. If this is possible at all.

  “What are you, tiny creature?”

  The gruff, guttural voice snaps me out of my head and I look up quickly, a hot shot of adrenaline firing through me. I’ve been so caught up in my thoughts that I wasn’t paying attention, and now I find a Gargolian woman standing in front of me. At least, I think it’s a woman. She wears a tunic like mine and there’s also a slight suggestion of curvier hips and thighs beneath her tunic.

  “I said, what are you?” she demands.

  The Gargolian woman has a fearsome appearance. Her scales are blacker than deep space, and her stripes are blood red. The underside of her chin and her neck is gray and disappears beneath her tunic, leaving me to imagine that her front side is colored the same way. She pins me to the rock I’m sitting on with those fierce reptilian eyes, her mouth slightly parted to show me the mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

  “I don’t think I understand the question,” I say.

  I touch the small lump beneath the skin on the side of my head and shake my head in disbelief that I can understand what this alien creature is saying. After taking me from home, they’d inserted what they called a neural translator chip into my head. According to them, it allows me to understand some unknown number of languages. And given the fact that I’m talking to a walking lizard, I guess they weren’t lying. This is all stuff I never imagined could be real.

  “Your species,” she hisses. “Where are your people from?”

  I swallow hard and do my best to control my racing heart. Having been a cop, I know that bullies thrive on fear. It’s Mother’s Milk to them. And that’s the sort of feeling I get from this lizard-chick. I can’t and won’t show her fear.

  “I-I’m human,” I say. “I come from Earth.”

  She cocks her head at me like a curious puppy. “Earth. H’man,” she says. “This is unknown to me.”

  I shrug. “Well, I’d never heard of a Gargolian before until your people abducted me.”

  “Abducted?” she repeats back to me. “I do not know this word. But they dropped you in this shit hole which means there is something completely wrong with you, human.”

  Behind her, I see the other five Gargolians—four males and another female—looking on. Then I see something drop in from above; it’s round and metallic and hovers over us like a drone, except that it’s perfectly silent. There are a number of protrusions on it, and I get the idea that it’s a camera of some sort. Maybe there’s more security here than I thought.

  “Your species—you are small and weak,” the Gargolian says.

  I’ve always had a temper, which has gotten me into trouble more than a few times. And as I stare at the Gargolian, I grit my teeth and feel that anger surging through me. This is not a fight I want, though, since I know it’s one that will be over before it ever starts. She would tear me to pieces.

  “We’re a lot tougher than you might think,” I say.

  She makes a noise that sounds like a bark of harsh laughter. But her reptilian eyes narrow, and I see the challenge in her face. She wants to bait me into a fight.

  “Take off your tunic,” she demands. “I wish to see what your species truly looks like.”

  “Not going to happen,” I say.

  Her body tenses and her thin, scaly lips curl upward in a predatory grin. She takes a step toward me, and it’s then I notice her thick, brawny arms end in hands with four unusually long fingers. And as I watch, long, thin claws extend from the tips of those fingers. Seeing those retractable claws and imagining what they could do to my flesh sends a flutter of fear through my heart.

  “Stand,” she orders me. “And remove your tunic. Now.”

  I get to my feet and stare daggers at the woman. The chamber is excruciatingly silent, and I’m aware of her friends watching us intently. As the camera drone or whatever it is maneuvers closer, the protrusions on the surface seem to be aimed directly at us, which adds to my certainty that somebody is watching.

  “I’m not going to do it,” I reply. “I’m not getting naked just to amuse you.”

  The Gargolian lashes out so fast, I barely register that she’s moved before I feel three lines of fire across my belly. I dance backward and look down. There are three thin slices across the front of my tunic, and when I put my hand to them, it comes away bloody. The slices in my flesh sting like hell but they feel shallow. All the same, I feel warm and viscous blood trickling down my belly.

  “You fucking bitch!” I roar.

  “H’man howra,” she spits back.

  It takes a second for my universal translator to provide me with the translation for howra—and just as I guessed, it’s Gargolian for whore. Obviously, the translators are a little slow on the uptake when it comes to slang. And apparently, slut-shaming fellow females is a thing even in other galaxies. Good to know.

  The Gargolian rushes me again, but this time I’m ready for her. She swings
her arm, claws coming at me in a murderous arc. I manage to dance out of range and then dart back in, putting everything behind my punch. A choked gasp bursts from her mouth as I deliver a vicious blow to her throat and then quickly dance back again, grinning at her as she turns to me, her eyes flashing dangerously.

  She has the size advantage over me by a country mile. She stands near seven feet tall and is rippling with muscle. I’m five foot six, a bit curvy with full hips and breasts, and although I’m strong, I think the Gargolian could break me in half with very little effort. The only thing I have going for me is that because I’m smaller, I’m apt to be quicker and more nimble. It’s not much, but I’ll do what I can with what I have.

  She lashes out with her left hand again, but I realize too late that it was a feint and I catch the backhand from her right full on. I feel the blood flowing from my nose, taste it in my mouth. I stagger backward, my hands cupped to my face and my head ringing.

  “Like I said, small and weak,” she hisses at me.

  I spit a glob of red at her—and miss, of course. It splatters in the dirt at her feet and the Gargolian looks at it, then at me, disgust written on her face.

  Right, I’m the disgusting one here.

  Everything is perfectly silent and still for a long moment and I’m aware of the moments ticking by. The camera drones overhead press closer, getting a bird’s eye view of the action as my eyes lock onto the Gargolian’s, and a thin, malicious smile touches her lips. With a cry that sends chills running across every square inch of my flesh, she rushes forward, those claw-tipped fingers leading the way.

  My heart nearly stops dead, and my body is vibrating with fear. I know if I don’t time this right, I’ll be skewered harder and more thoroughly than a shish kabob. She’s mere inches from me when I dip my shoulder and roll to my right. As I do, I lash out with my foot, driving it like a piston, and am gratified when I feel a solid connection. I see the knee buckle and hear the Gargolian scream out in agony.