Mastered by the Zandians: Alien Warrior Reverse Harem Romance by Rose Renee & West Rebel

Author:Rose, Renee & West, Rebel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burning Desires
Published: 2018-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Mirelle

The trip out to the quarry for ore is as tense as I could have expected. Kianna and Amber are terse, barely talking to me.

“You wait here,” Kianna tells me.

“She’s not supposed to ever be in a craft unattended,” Amber reminds her.

“Right. Follow me, then.” Kianna rolls her eyes. We step out of the craft into a field of blowing grass. The woods are miles away, the trees dark and twisted into a smudge on the horizon, foreboding. But the sun is bright and hot, the breeze brisk, and the stones of the quarry sparkle.

“This”—Amber points, as if she’d rather not tell me anything—“is our best place to gather the ore we need for the magnetic parts. It’s really just scattered on the surface and is easy to get.” She jogs over and puts on a pair of heavy gloves. She calls back, “You two bring the canisters.”

“It seems like a waste of your time, though, to have to gather your own supplies.” I do it myself on Jesel out of necessity, but here the division of labor is more elegant.

Kianna shrugs. “Everyone needs a diversion from time to time. I like getting out here, anyway. It’s pretty.”

She stands with her hands on her hips surveying the area.

She’s right; although it’s desolate in a way, it’s open, the grass extending for miles, swaying and moving like waves in a sea. Flocks of birds. The forest is a dark stain on the horizon, like an anchor.

“Reminds me of…” She breaks off.

“Of what?”

“A place I used to live.” Her eyes are distant when I look to her face. I think she’s remembering a being more than a location. And now I see how hungry she is for whatever it is that she sees, and it’s not the grass and the trees. It’s something far away.

“Before you came here?”

“Obviously, yes.” She scoffs. “Your grasp of the mundane is truly admirable.”

“Do you miss it?” I’m curious about her so I keep my voice soft.

“I’m happy here.” She turns to me. Scowls, face taut. “Just because I have some good memories doesn’t mean I’m not fully satisfied in this place.”

“I didn’t imply that you were dissatisfied.” I shrug.

“You imply that we should be, though, every time you look at me.” Her voice rises.

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“You act like you’re better. Like you have a worthy goal, you’re a real human, and we’re just little robot slaves. Well, let me tell you something.” She pokes a finger at my chest, actually stabbing it into my sternum. “What we do here is not easy, and it’s no small feat. And if you can’t get on board, we don’t want you. Get it?”

“When have I ever implied anything?” I raise both hands, perplexed.

“Every time you look at me!” She shouts, then turns away. “With your accusing eyes. Mother Earth.”

“I do not.” What the hell? She’s not wrong that I think about my goals. But how can she not see how open I am to loving it here, too? How I want to fit in and be part of it all?

It’s then that we hear the scream.

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