Conquered by the Alien Warrior Hope Hart (electric book reader .TXT) 📖

the camp a few days ago. Charlie said it would mess with her field of vision. Dragix said she wasn’t flying with him unless she wore it.

Unsurprisingly, the dragon won.

They’re flying toward the Dokhalls still marching in the back. The plan is for Dragix to thin their army as much as they can so that when the Dokhalls, Zintas, and Voildi in the front go down, there won’t be as many fresh fighters ready to replace them.

On the right, arrows fly, most of them hitting their targets. Simple scrapes with the poisonous arrows have the Dokhalls dying in a way that even makes me wince.

Those who manage to dodge the arrows are faced with enraged Braxian males—most of them on mishua. The Dokhalls swarm, their sheer numbers leveling the playing field as the Braxians fight to keep them from breaking through.

My heart is in my throat as a Braxian warrior roars and falls, immediately crushed by Dokhalls—one of them slitting his throat on the way. Horror rises, but I battle it down, scanning the clearing for Korzyn. He refused to fight on a mishua, stating that he spent his life fighting on his feet and this battle would be no different.

I catch a glimpse of him, fighting next to Dexar, and I can suddenly take a full breath again.

Someone lobs a pod into a chunk of the Dokhalls’ army—taking out twenty or so Dokhalls and Zintas. Through the trees, I catch a glimpse of blue. Urox.

From the wide grin on his face, he’s having fun.

In spite of the experienced warriors on our front lines, the Dokhalls have numbers we couldn’t hope to match. They begin breaking through—a few at first—quickly cut down by the Braxians. But it’s only a matter of time before the Braxians are overrun.

We’ll need the catapults.

I slide down the tree and pump my arms, sprinting through the forest. I trip on a tree root but throw out a hand and slam it against a tree, barely preventing myself from going down.

Don’t brain yourself before the Dokhalls can even get close to you. That would be humiliating.

“They’re coming!” I yell as soon as I reach the catapults, which are neatly lined up. I can only hope the Braxians can ignore the urge to sprint after the Dokhalls. If they succumb to a killing rage and forget about our little surprise, we’ll be taking them out as well.

I duck behind my catapult next to Makayla, who flicks me a glance as she crouches. These catapults don’t have wheels, so we’re limited by how much we can aim them. Right now, a tribe king called Khax and his barbarian warriors should be creeping through the forest and settling in behind us, ready to kill any Dokhalls who happen to make it close to us.

My hands begin to sweat, and I take a deep breath, blowing it out slow and steady.

A bush shakes in front of us, and Beth holds up her hand.

“Ready,” she says, her voice low as the first Dokhall steps through.

“Hold,” she orders, and Makayla practically vibrates next to me.

“Hold.” Beth’s voice is firm.

Now I’m the one on edge, clenching my teeth as more Dokhalls run toward us.

There must be fifty Dokhalls heading our way before Beth finally lowers her arm.

“Fire!”

The pods explode, the poison escaping as more Dokhalls crash through the edge of the forest.

Those that aren’t hit in the explosion are quickly wiped out by the poison. All it takes is the smallest fragment to touch their skin and they’re slumping to the ground.

Where they stay.

Bile rises in my throat as we reload the catapults again and again. I’m shaking as the Dokhalls continue to advance.

If this many of them got past the Braxians…

Could they have killed them all?

Minutes creep by. Blood drenches the grass in front of us. Behind us, Khax is ordering his warriors into place, ready to step in when we run out of pods.

Makayla hands me another one, wrapped in a thick cloth. I gently place it down, careful not to touch the pod itself. She pulls the cloth away, dumping it on the ground with the others to be burned later.

“How many left?” I ask.

“Three.”

Shit.

“It’s okay,” a voice says, and I turn. Nevada is standing behind us, tears in her eyes. “Arix is here.”

“What?”

She nods, and it’s then I realize more Dokhalls are running this way, but they no longer look determined. They look…terrified.

Makayla loads another pod. “I’m definitely going to have nightmares about this!” she yells over the noise.

“You guys need to go,” Nevada says. Two Braxian warriors take over our catapult as others wait behind them, ready for the moment all the other catapults are out of pods and it’s their turn to rejoin the battle.

I blink. “Go?”

Nevada jerks her head in the direction of the ship. “Arix brought a huge army with him. Any Dokhalls that aren’t dead are fleeing. It’s time for you to make your move.”

“Where’s Korzyn?”

Nevada gives me a look as Makayla begins sprinting between catapults, spreading the word. “He’s on his way. You’ll get to say goodbye.”

“Ellie?”

“She’s fine. The baby is fine. It’s a beautiful baby boy.”

Relief rushes through me. It’s over.

Chapter Eighteen

Sarissa

I stare at the ship. At everything I’ve wanted since the moment I landed on this planet. It represents hope. Vengeance. Retribution. Home.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Beth says next to me, and I throw an arm around her.

It takes me a moment to swallow around the lump in my throat as I tear my gaze away from the ship.

Most of us are gathered here. Even Ellie sits on an overturned tree, her baby in her arms. Terex sits next to her, the look on his face making it clear he would prefer for her to be in bed.

Nevada stands on the ramp leading to the ship, Rakiz by her side. The tribe king is bloody and bruised, but he clutches Danica in his arms like he’ll never let her go.

“It’s time,” Nevada says. She glances at me.