Read Online Books/Novels:
Draekon Warrior (Rebel Force #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Captured in space. Imprisoned. Sold to the highest bidder.
The bossy alien I kissed.
That might have been a mistake.
Kadir is dangerous. I’ve seen him fight, and his body is littered with scars. He’s a soldier. A warrior. And when he loses control, he turns into a big scary dragon and breathes fire.
Everyone’s terrified of him. I’m not. No, call me the biggest fool in the galaxy, because I’m attracted to the big jerk.
When I first met the small human I was sent to rescue, she punched me in the jaw.
And broke her wrist in the process. Irrational woman.
Then she insists that the two of us set out immediately to find her missing friend.
No, what I have to do is get Alice Hernandez to safety.
She’s soft, yet she’s strong.
She’s everything I’ve never known I wanted.
When the scientists tortured me, they broke me. And when Alice finds out the truth about the fearsome, raging dragon inside me, I will lose her.
|Books in Series:|
|Books by Author:|
When you’re dropped into the deep pits of hell, here’s how you survive.
You stick to a routine. Every morning, when the bell sounds, I get out of bed, and I make a mark on the wall. So far, I’ve made two hundred and six marks. Almost seven months in this prison. Soon, I’m going to run out of wall space.
You remember who you are. Call it words of affirmation; call it a stubborn refusal to forget myself. Once I’ve marked the day, I have a litany I say aloud. It goes like this: My name is Alice Hernandez. I graduated at the top of my class from Johns Hopkins. I could have chosen any specialization, but instead, I honored a promise I’d made myself when I was fourteen and became an emergency room doctor. I live in Chicago; I work at Northwestern Memorial.
I like cats, but I’ve never had one because I’m allergic to their dander. To unwind, I knit long scarves and shapeless sweaters. I prefer beer over wine. I sing in the shower. I always tell myself I should read more, but at the end of a long shift, I zone out with Netflix. Right now, I’m halfway through a Turkish show about a guy who discovers he has magic powers.
I remind myself that my mother loved me. I remind myself that I save lives. My patients are grateful for my skill. I matter.
You always fight back. When the second alarm goes off, we’re supposed to line up at our cell door, meekly awaiting whatever fresh hellish torture the Zorahn scientists have devised for the morning. If we don’t, they punish us.
I get punished daily. The male scientist, Kravex, takes a special joy in stabbing me with a prong, sending an agonizing jolt of electricity through me. At the start, my cellmate Tanya used to ask me why I didn’t just obey. I don’t think I have a good explanation for my behavior, really. But doing what the scientists want feels like giving up, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to do that.
I resist at every turn. I swear at the scientists, using every Zor curse I’ve picked up. I kick at them. I scratch and bite. I am defiant and profane.
They beat me for my resistance. They break bones, then heal them, and then break them again. But they won’t kill me. The pain they administer is finely calibrated. I’m a human, a rare and valuable lab animal. The scientists paid a lot of money for us. Killing me would be wasteful.
You never give up hope. I’m going to find a way out of here. Yes, I’m on an alien planet, one with purple skies and three green moons. I’m surrounded on every side by a vast desert. Every day, when the blood-red sun rises, heat suffocates us.
There doesn’t appear to be a way out, but I will find one. I will watch for an opportunity, and I will act. I will get back home. I will finish watching my Turkish soap opera, and I will find out if the magic guy ever avenged his parents’ murders.
I am not a lab animal. I am more than that. They can torture me. They can flood my body with agony and pain. They can beat me and break my bones, but they will not change who I am. I will survive, I will endure, and I will prevail.
The second bell sounds. I deliberately settle myself back on the bed and lace my hands behind my head.
Time for the morning beating.
The scientists will be watching me on their monitors. Kravex and Fal’vi will squabble about whose turn it is to punish me. One of them will reach for the prod.
The punishments have been getting harsher. The scientists are frustrated. They’ve been tinkering with our DNA for seven months, and they’re not making progress. Tempers are running high. If I had any sense, I’d follow Tanya’s lead, and obediently move to the prescribed spot on the floor.
Never. To obey them is to surrender.
“What’s your favorite breakfast?” I ask Tanya, trying to draw her out in conversation. “Me, I was always partial to chocolate-chip and banana pancakes. My mom used to make them for me every Sunday.”
She doesn’t reply. She hasn’t talked in over two weeks. She doesn’t cry out when the scientists hurt us. When they inject us with our afternoon dosage of a drug designed to fill us with a sense of well-being and contentment—all the better to control us—she writhes in silent ecstasy. Every trace of the chatty, vivacious, pretty cheerleader from Dallas is gone, and all that is left is this hollow shell of a human being.
I won’t let them do that to me.
When our alien ship had landed on a dusty, disused port in the middle of nowhere, we’d begun to suspect that something was wrong. When a crowd of Zorahn scientists had bid on us like we were cattle at an auction, we’d realized the brutal truth.