Page 5 of Taken By the Alien Merking
Convinced of her solitude, Brooke peeled off her sodden uniform, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. She hesitated for a moment, standing in her undergarments, the cool air raising goosebumps on her skin. The sight of her own reflection on the water’s surface was a stark reminder of how far from home she truly was. Her dark skin appeared almost ethereal in the soft, bioluminescent glow. With a deep breath, she stepped into the pool, the water’s warmth enveloping her like a comforting embrace.
Reaching for the bar of handmade soap nestled on a nearby ledge, she inhaled its exotic scent—a heady mix of earthy and sweet. As she lathered her hair, the soap transformed into a rich, creamy froth, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the welcoming sensation. She could almost pretend that this was just another day, that she was back in her own familiar world.
The soap’s magic worked wonders on her hair, each curl springing to life with a renewed vitality. She dunked her head beneath the water, rinsing away the suds, and surfaced with a gasp, her hair sleek and glossy against her back.
The water lapped at Brooke’s skin, a tender caress that soothed her weary muscles and coaxed her mind into a state of tranquility. She let her body float, the buoyancy granting her a brief respite from the gravity of her situation. It was at this moment of quiet solitude that her thoughts wandered to Zetron.
His image materialized unbidden in her mind’s eye: the fluid grace of his movements, the way his scales refracted the sunlight into a thousand tiny rainbows, and the depth of those green eyes that seemed to see straight through her. A warmth kindled within her, subtle at first, then blooming with an intensity that surprised her. She felt her cheeks flush, the heat of it rivaling the water’s embrace.
Brooke’s hand drifted idly over her stomach, her fingers tracing the contours of her body with a newfound awareness. The sensationof her own touch was electric, each caress sending ripples of pleasure through her. She allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy for a brief moment. She imagined it was Zetron’s hand exploring her form, his fingers discovering the softness of her skin, the curves that made her uniquely human.
A soft sigh escaped her lips, the sound echoing off the cavern walls, and for a moment, she felt acutely vulnerable. She was a captain on the USS Legacy, a position that demanded unwavering discipline and a clear head. Yet here she was, alone on an alien world, succumbing to the allure of a creature so different from her own kind. It was a complication she had not anticipated, a variable that threatened to disrupt her carefully laid plans.
As she emerged from her reverie, the reality of her circumstances came rushing back.
“Focus. This isn’t about… him,” she chided herself, a silent acknowledgment of Zetron’s effect on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of his scales shimmering in the sunlight, his green eyes piercing into hers, refusing to be banished from her thoughts.
She dipped beneath the water’s surface again, letting the silence envelop her. As she emerged, she shook her head, sending droplets flying. “Andi, Naya,” she murmured, invoking the names of her sisters like a mantra. They were her anchors, her reason for beinghere, amidst alien waters and unfamiliar territory. “I’m doing this for you. For a future where you can thrive, not just survive.”
The water’s surface rippled with each thought that crossed Brooke’s mind, her voice a low murmur in the cavernous expanse. “This is for the Legacy, for Earth,” she whispered. Her hands moved in slow, deliberate strokes as she grabbed her uniform and submerged it underwater. The fabric, a stark reminder of her duty, clung to her fingers, heavy with the weight of her mission.
“For Andi and Naya,” she continued, her eyes reflecting the bioluminescent glow that bathed the cavern in an ethereal light. “So, they can live without the specter of hunger and thirst haunting their every step.”
Brooke’s mind wandered back to Earth, to the crumbling cities and the barren fields that had once teemed with life. She remembered the lines of the hungry, the desperation in their eyes as they clamored for the meager rations doled out by a system on the edge of collapse.
Earth had become a shadow of its former self, a dying planet choking on the remnants of its own excess. She had seen the best and worst of humanity, the beauty of the human spirit, and the depths of its depravity when pushed to the edge of survival. It was a world that had hardened her, that had forged her into the leader she was today.
Humanity’s hubris had led them to the brink of extinction, and it had fallen upon Brooke’s shoulders to guide them back from the abyss.
Brooke’s mind drifted back to the relentless training that had shaped her, the crucible through which she had emerged as a captain on the USS Legacy. The journey had been fraught with trials that would have broken a lesser will. She had spent countless hours poring over tactical manuals, her eyes burning with fatigue, yet her resolve unyielding. The simulators had been her battleground, each scenario a dance with potential disaster, and she had learned to lead with both her mind and her heart.
Her body bore the marks of hand-to-hand combat training, her muscles honed to react with lethal precision. She had sparred with opponents who were faster, stronger, and more agile, yet she had matched them blow for blow, refusing to succumb to the lure of defeat. The cadence of her instructors’ voices still echoed in her memory, their words a mantra that drove her forward: “Survival is not guaranteed, but it can be earned.”
Brooke had earned her place among the stars, her ascent through the ranks a testament to her tenacity. She had seen comrades fall by the wayside, their dreams withering in the face of adversity, but she had pressed on, fueled by a vision of a world where her sisters could walk in sunshine without the fear of thirst and famine looming over them.
The mission to Sanos was more than a diplomatic endeavor; it was a lifeline for a species on the edge of oblivion. Brooke had volunteered without a moment’s hesitation, her heart set on securing a future for those she held dear. This was her purpose, her destiny. The Quxoni, with their advanced technology and benevolent demeanor, had seemed like the ideal candidates for an alliance. But the attack on the beachside tent had cast a shadow of doubt over her plans.
Brooke’s hands moved mechanically, washing away the remnants of their journey, each stroke a reminder of the burden she carried. The USS Legacy, her home away from home, counted on her to secure a future for humanity among the stars. Her crew, her family, they all looked to her for guidance, for strength. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the allure of a pair of captivating green eyes.
She swam to the edge of the pool, her fingers brushing against the cool, damp stone of the cavern wall. The bioluminescent glow cast an otherworldly light on her skin, making her feel both insignificant and powerful in the grand tapestry of the universe. “I am Captain Brooke Harris,” she declared quietly, her voice steady and resolute. “I am here to negotiate peace, to ensure our survival. I will not be swayed by… by…” Her words trailed off as she struggled to articulate theturmoil within her.
Brooke’s thoughts were interrupted by the faintest rustle of movement. She turned sharply, her eyes scanning the shadows, but there was no one—or so she thought.
“Who is this Andi-male that holds such importance to you, Captain?” Zetron’s voice emerged from the darkness, its timbre resonating against the cavern walls. He stepped into the light, his scales shimmering with an iridescence that was both otherworldly and strangely beautiful.
Brooke’s heart skipped a beat, a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck as she realized he had heard her soliloquy. She composed herself, her captain’s demeanor sliding into place like a well-worn mask.
Chapter 4
Zetron
JealousyranthroughZetron’sblood.
Who was this Andi to her? A mate? A lover? The thought of another male claiming her affections ignited a possessive fire within him.
He stood in the shadows, his presence undetected, as he drank in the sight of her. The scraps of fabric that clung to her curves were a mockery of modesty, stoking the inferno of his desire. He wanted to claim her, to mark her as his own, to explore the contrast of her softness against his scales.
Her voice, soft and unguarded, filled the cavern, her words revealing her heart. She spoke of her home, of a mission that extended beyond her own needs. She was a protector, a leader, and the realization only heightened his respect for her. But it did nothing to quell the lust that coursed through his veins like liquid fire.
