Taken by the Kagethi Lord: Kagethi Warlord Brides, #5

By Ava York

I am ruled by the urges of the Beast.
The fury that lives inside me, always simmering, ready to explode.

Then she came.
Sweet, precious Mia.

And now I dance on a cliff edge with a knife to my throat.

If I do not learn to control the Beast I will lose her. But without the mad bloodlust can I protect her from the invaders that swarm through my jungle?

Taken by the Kagethi Lord continues the new chapter of the Kagethi Warlord Brides. Each book ends with an HEA for our growly lords and their chosen mates, but there is an overarching story that ties these books together!

• Language: English
• Publisher: ClockWalk
• Release date: May 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223799900

Book preview

MIA

Bright flashes of light sped by me too fast to comprehend. The hair on my forearm curled from the proximity to one such energy blast. Better to lose my hair than my skin. The Vune who fired at me weren't making the most accurate shots in the world. What they lacked in marksmanship, however, they made up for in enthusiasm and volume.

A stray blast struck a branch ahead. It flash-burned right through, searing the heavy limb as neatly as a scalpel. The branch fell into my path. I veered to the side, knowing that if one of those deadly beams touched me, I would be dead—or I would wish I were.

I’d seen a few plasma burns in my lifetime. Terror of experiencing them myself propelled me more than anything else.

I felt like such a coward. Charlie sacrificed herself to give Harper and I a fighting chance. Then Harper sacrificed herself to push me to safety right before she fell into the Deathwater river.

Instead of diving in after Harper, I just watched while she disappeared out of sight. Okay, that’s not exactly true. I tried to follow her for a time.

That’s when I ran into the Vune patrol. I only knew the name of their gamma male, Chutt, the butt of all their jokes.

Their commander was not someone I’d want to meet in a dark shadow—or ever again, for that matter. His casual cruelty was more frightening than all the bluster in the world would have been.

The energy blasts died off as I passed down a steep incline. My legs barely moved fast enough to keep me from stumbling. I just kept thinking that if I fell, I was dead.

When I first fell, my communicator broke. I scooped up the pieces, and if I got out of this, I’d try to piece it back together.

I ran deeper into the jungle, my skin whipped and cut by leaves and brambles. I ran without much thought as to the direction I was going. I only had one thought—get as far away from the Vune as I could.

I did not want to be there when they figured a way across the river. Could they jump across? Doubtful, or they would have.

Sooner or later, it will dawn on them that they can use one of their ships to fly over the river. I knew that I had to get deeper into the forest to avoid being picked up by ships passing overhead.

I also knew that the Vastgreen was incredibly dangerous. Not only was it teeming with predators that ranged from humongous and scary to clever and scarier, but many of the native plants were deadly.

There is a species of vine that has a life phase like a cross between an ant lion from Earth and a Venus flytrap. I hoped I didn’t run into one of them. I knew their territory usually didn’t range that close to the river, though.

Eventually, I had to slow down. My side ached terribly, as if I had been punched. Every breath I managed to suck in proved to be an agonizing labor. I stopped for a moment, leaning heavily against the purple and green bark of one of the native trees.

It was an evergreen but not like the ones on Earth. This one had leaves that curled into little cones during the rain, to absorb water more directly than with their roots. When the sun came out, the same leaves unfurled and engaged in a process similar to photosynthesis in Earth plants.

I knew a lot about it and yet, so little. For example, all of my research didn’t tell me that the tree would smell like pink bubble gum, but it did. I also noticed a tiny line of small ant-like arthropods traveling in the grooves of the rough bark.

Perhaps the two species lived symbiotically. Or maybe the alien ants were a parasite. Damn it all to hell, it is what I was supposed to be doing. Studying, learning, expanding my knowledge. Not skulking around in the woods like an amateur Rambo.

I can’t believe you were the one who made it out of that crash in one piece. Well, so much for survival of the fittest.

I turned to see a man in his late sixties, his eyes a piercing blue, face lined with wrinkles and yet, fearsome like a craggy gargoyle.

Shut up, Dad. You’re not really here.

You’re right, because if I was here, I would vomit at the sight of how pathetic my daughter has turned out. You were the most useless of the three women on that shuttle and you know it.

My expertise is needed here, Dad… I slapped my hand over my face. Here I am arguing with a figment of my imagination. You know my therapist says I’m not supposed to engage with you unless you’re being constructive.

Therapist. Dad snorted. Just a softer way of saying head shrinker. And who goes to headshrinkers? Crazy people. You’re not only a disappointment, you’re also a nutjob. Thank goodness you’re off on some alien planet so you won’t embarrass the family.

Shut up, Dad, I mumbled, trying to ignore him. I couldn't help but feel the things he said all had a kernel of truth to them, though.

You can’t make me shut up, little girl. Do I have to make you taste the back of my hand again? Or do I need to take my belt off? Or maybe…you should go outside and cut a switch.

Shut up, I said, plugging my fingers in my ears. My friends are not dead. Charlie might have escaped or maybe been taken alive. Harper might very well have washed up safely downstream. I’m not a failure. At least, not yet.

I pulled my fingers from my ears and cringed, but the phantom vision of my father had departed. I had to take action.

I took out my canteen and drained about half of it in one go. I regretted it immediately when my stomach sloshed around as I walked.

At least I had a plan now. I would make my way to the Tankyr Latt temple. There, perhaps, I would find my friends. It seemed the most logical place we might go to meet up.

I didn’t let myself get depressed wondering if they would be there or not. Nor did I worry about what I would do if I never found either woman alive again. I needed to focus on one thing at a time, one problem at a time.

My father’s presence loomed large in my mind. I heard him complaining how I was never a survivalist. That I’m in way over my head.

I did my best to ignore those thoughts and assessed where I stood as far as equipment. Like Charlie and Harper, I had brought along the required survival kit. Unlike the two of them, I had swapped out a lot of items in lieu of my botany kit.

I hadn’t thought I would actually need my survival kit…and I had selfishly thought that perhaps I would just share one with one of the other women if it came down to that.

I regretted that decision. I hadn’t been a complete idiot. I had kept the compass, and the paper map of the region. Sometimes signals couldn't penetrate the jungle canopy and it was wise to have a paper map.

Unfortunately, I was never a cartographer and the map was made for Kagethi use. I couldn't really read it, but I hoped I could use it and my compass in conjunction to find my way to the temple.

I still had some bandages, and a hypospray with a dermal regenerator. But I had no flares, no tent and no emergency beacon.

Of course, the beacon might have just as easily drawn an enemy Vune to me as someone who would help, so perhaps that wasn’t as big a loss as the other items.

I stared at the map, then at the compass. As long as I continued generally east, I would probably at least run into the outlying ruins of the temple. The jungle swallowed up a city at one time, and now you could only see bits and pieces of it when you were lucky or careful.

I decided perhaps I should search for shelter. I was exhausted, and the Vune were hunting me. If I found a place to lie low, they might pass me by.

I searched the woods for a cave, a hollowed out tree, even just an overhanging cliff. Anything that might provide even a modicum of protection from the elements.

Unfortunately, it turned out that I had nothing but my father’s disembodied voice to keep me company.

ZEY

No thought, just action. The jungle’s greens, red, purples and browns slipped past me in a dazzling kaleidoscopic tunnel that I noticed but gave no thought to. I had surrendered full control to the Beast.

Not a split personality. They tell me humans sometimes have those when they are mentally ill. No, the Beast is where I have stuffed my most primal drives, the most violent urges, so that I may govern the Southern Tribe as their chieftain. Leadership walks a fine line between the past and the present, between action and thought.

You must listen at council meetings, but not too much. You must think before you act, but not be paralyzed by indecision. Most of all, you must always be aware of your people’s needs.

The Beast isn’t aware of much other than what’s right in front of him. That’s good for situations like this one. The Vastgreen, mother to all life here, burned! I had to end her agony and stop the flames before they spread.

The Beast whispered in my mind that Hann and Tolmok had chosen me for this task because they believed me too small and weak to fight the Vune. I did my best to ignore it. The Beast came with his own problems, of course, but I felt I needed his strength of conviction and single synaptic response to danger.

I scared the daylights out of a preewee hanging from its flexible tail. It had babies clinging to its stomach, and they all watched with large eyes reflecting the verdant growth as I passed.

My path took me upward, toward a plateau where a mighty underground river came to the surface as a rushing torrent. The river split off into many streams, brooks and creeks, creating dozens of waterfalls off the plateau to feed the surrounding swampland and the continuance of the original river.

The plateau was not an easy climb. The rocks were universally wet from a heavy mist and spray from the waterfalls. What little terrain there was proved muddy, slippery or both.

I carefully picked my way up. When we were young, long before assuming the mantle of chief, my two friends and I used to make our way to the top of this plateau.

There was little to be had in the way of game, but there were a group of Rillfishers. The flightless birds constructed elaborate dams, creating deeper ponds so they could spear fish with their razor-sharp beaks.

The birds were lovely, but didn’t taste very good. So, we came to the plateau for the view instead. The country spread out before us like a many-colored cloak made of memories and scents and the eternal tapestry of life and death.

It is good for a chief in training to see such things because it keeps one humble. I took a moment when I reached the top to take in the view, reminding myself there were always things that even the Beast could not handle.

I thanked the mother for reminding me of my limitations and turned my attention to the opposite direction. My nose wrinkled in disgust as I saw the black pillar of smoke climbing into the sky. When the sun set it would be possible to see the glow of the flames that spawned the smoke.

That is, if I allowed