The Alien's Abducted Romance Author: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance by Margo Bond Collins

Author:Margo Bond Collins [Bond Collins, Margo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bathory Gate Press
Published: 2024-03-14T18:30:00+00:00

11

The universe had a particularly cruel sense of humor, Vhuron mused, as the Ahstram Star buckled under the force of a sudden explosion. The rhythmic blaring of alarms synced with his racing hearts—a cacophony that heralded chaos. Beside him, Savannah—her golden-brown hair a wild halo around her head—was a picture of disarray as they both scrambled off her floor, where they had landed when they were tumbled out of bed.

“By the seven moons,” he muttered, scales shimmering a distressed shade of gold as he hoisted himself up, his spine ridges bristling in alarm. With practiced speed born from star-cycles of command, Vhuron threw on his uniform, its fabric stretching over his muscular frame.

“Stay close,” he instructed Savannah. She nodded, shoving her feet into boots and yanking on a jacket with an efficiency that surprised him.

“Like I have a lot of choices,” she said, her voice steady despite the trembling ship.

Vhuron couldn’t help the twitch of his lips—was there ever a time when this woman wouldn’t wield her wit like a weapon? He accessed the announcement system, his voice booming through the spacecraft, “All crew to battle stations. This is not a drill!”

The corridors of the Ahstram Star transformed into a battlefield of their own, conduits burst like geysers spewing sparks instead of water. Vhuron led the way, each step quick yet deliberate. Savannah kept pace, darting glances at the falling debris they narrowly avoided.

“Feels like we’re inside one of those old Earth pinball machines,” Savannah observed, ducking a rogue panel that swung from the ceiling.

“Pinball?” Vhuron echoed, dodging a live wire that danced like a serpent in their path.

“Never mind, just focus on not getting us fried,” she shot back, her sarcasm not quite masking the concern in her tone.

His protective instincts roared to life, fiercer than the flames they were evading. He was the captain, yes, but in these moments of duress, he felt something more—a primal urge to shield her from the terrors of space that even he couldn’t predict.

Together, they navigated the gauntlet of hazards. Every so often, Vhuron would reach back to ensure Savannah was still with him.

“Quite the wake-up call,” she said breathlessly as they finally reached the relative safety of the bridge’s entrance. “Let’s hope the rest of the crew got that memo.”

“Take a seat along the wall and strap in,” Vhuron ordered her.

“I’ll stay out of the way,” Savannah promised.

The bridge doors slid open with a hiss that cut through the chaos. The command center of the Ahstram Star, usually a scene of order and precision, was alive with frenzied activity. At the heart of the storm stood Bhrezan beside the helmsman, his scaled hands dancing over holographic displays, orchestrating what seemed like an interstellar ballet of defense.

“Report!” Vhuron bellowed, his voice slicing through the din of alarm sirens and frantic communication chatter.

“The Xalothiads, Captain,” Bhrezan responded without turning. “They’re hitting us with everything they’ve got.”

The helmsman added in a surprisingly calm tone, “Their tactics are... quite rude, actually.”

Vhuron stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the tactical map.

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