WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series Alana Khan (i like reading TXT) 📖

bed, her brown eyes gaze deeply into mine. Her expression speaks of want and need and desperation, and so much more. I respond, my eyes blazing with my own story of affection for her.

She sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to her. I don’t want to join her there, not yet. I want to taste her again. I’ve wondered if her taste is addictive, but decided it’s not the taste, but the feeling of being the one responsible for providing her bliss. I love the sensation of giving her pleasure, the sounds of her moans and heavy breathing.

The canine inside me, a moment ago fully submissive, jumps up and barks, his hackles rising along his spine.

Trouble, he snarls, capturing my attention. I follow the direction of his thoughts and look out through the clear tent.

My blood runs cold as I freeze, my mind flying through every strategy I can use to keep us alive.

“Grab your bow and arrows! Now!” I tell her.

Somewhere in the dim recesses of my mind, I’m proud of our connection. Willa doesn’t pause a modicum, she follows my orders immediately without question.

“Shit!” she sounds panicked.

As soon as she was alerted to the urgency of the situation by the tone of my voice, she became more aware of our surroundings. It isn't hard to miss the dozen creatures that have surrounded the clear globe we thought ensured our comfort. They’re the same as the animal I killed this afternoon. Willa called them tarantu-scorps.

The tent provides protection from the elements, but I could easily slice through it with my fang. Certainly, these creatures, with their deadly pincers could slash it with little effort. I’ve bent and retrieved my bow and hung my quiver on my back. I don’t know why they haven't attacked already. I’m sure it’s imminent.

I tear my eyes from the scene outside the globe to glance at Willa. She’s standing, bow drawn, her quiver over her shoulder.

“Stand back to back with me, Love. I’m better with a bow than you, but you’ll have to help. We’re vastly outnumbered. You only have twelve arrows, make them count.”

We only have twenty-four arrows between us, and who knows how many creatures are out there. My guess is a dozen, but there could be an army of them hiding farther away in the shadows.

The calm continues for only a moment more, then all of them step forward at once. Do they have a hive mind? That will make them even more deadly adversaries. Several of them use their front pincers to horizontally slash the tent material. The now detached top of the structure blows away in the light breeze getting caught in a nearby tree. In that one moment, we’re completely exposed and unprotected.

I feel Willa’s warm back against mine and take a moment to pray she can live through this assault. The best thing I can do to help her is to kill the enemy.

No thoughts fly through my head, my hands take charge—they move faster than I can think. They proceed on their own accord, reaching behind me to grab an arrow, nocking it, and letting fly. It penetrates directly where I was aiming—the beady black eye. An otherworldly shriek pierces the air, and the animal staggers, then falls.

“Aim for the eyes if you can, Love,” I remind her. Because of the way the creatures are built, it’s hard to aim for the heart.

“Right,” her voice is tight. She’s fully concentrating on her task. Good.

I don’t know if the animals have some sense of what their pack is thinking, but a few attack as the rest wait and watch, coming at us in waves. I don’t take my eyes off my foe for a heartbeat, but worry about Willa. I pull my thoughts to the task at hand. I’m not protecting my female if I remain unfocused.

I’ve felled six of them with eight arrows, their hairy corpses litter the bed and floor of the structure. Their comrades keep on coming, stepping over their felled packmates and forging ahead.

Willa and I are well attuned to each other. When I turn, her body naturally follows my motion. When the enemy in front of me has stopped aggressing, I turn us so I can help on her side of the melee.

I’m proud when I see three felled beasts on her side of the clearing. Launching three arrows in swift succession, I kill three more.

“How many left?” I ask when I’ve turned us in our original directions.

“Four arrows, one beast,” she answers, evidently not knowing whether I was asking about arrows or animals.

“Two left on my side,” I tell her.

“Shit!” she says after launching an arrow, then, “Gotcha, bastard!”

Both the creatures in front of me attack at once. The ungainly beasts move swiftly when they want to. I shoot my arrows quickly, but after felling one of the two, my next shot misses its mark.

As I pull another arrow from my quiver, I hear the squealing whine of the last beast in the throes of death—Willa killed him with her last arrow.

I hear her panting, feel her torso heaving since our backs are still pressed together. We rotate in a complete circle, both of us wanting to ensure no more of the ugly beasts are creeping up on us in the darkness.

We continue to circle. In the relative calm, we both realize we forgot to call for backup.

She says, “The comms!” as I call into my comm, “Beam us up.”

“Wait!” she says a moment later as she pulls a tunic over her head. “Okay,” she tells them.

I don’t know why I didn’t call for help a moment ago. The heat of battle put the idea of rescue by beaming my particles through the air completely out of my mind.

Soon Willa and