Unmatched Read online

  To my delectable husband, who no matter what, always saves me the last piece of bacon.

  Unmatched (Her Illusian Warrior #3)

  Copyright ©2019 Annalise Alexis

  All Rights Reserved.

  Unmatched (Her Illusian Warrior #3) is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Kasmit Covers

  Editing by The Novel Fixer

  Proofreading by Paige Sayer Proofreading

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book contains content for adult audiences.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Annalise Alexis

  Prologue

  Jayla

  She’s trembling—grasping her mother’s purple gown and holding on like her life depends on it. At only fourteen, after what’s she’s been through, it likely does.

  “Acia, our scanners indicate we have been recognized and tagged for annihilation. We must leave now,” Sol pants, out of breath after jogging from the navigation bay. “The Universal Community is dispatching search and destroy carriers as we speak.”

  “Skara…” Ren says, giving my neck a light squeeze.

  I glance back through the ship’s open hatch, giving the last of the displaced non-Illusian females we saved from the auction a wistful look. For the past two weeks we’ve traveled halfway across the galaxy to bring this little Deebian to her parents, and leaving her feels wrong. After Ren found out she was a child, he insisted we take her ourselves rather than utilizing freelance crews to drop her off. He wasn’t taking any chances she could get lost again. Only problem was, her home planet, Deeb, is on the outskirts of UCom territory and navigating through their restricted zone unnoticed is almost impossible.

  “I know this one affected you greatly. But she is home, back with those who will care for her and ensure she moves past this. We have only our own to think about now.”

  Almost as if she notices my hesitance to leave her, Mae-isa waves goodbye, cracking a smile for my benefit. She’s a sweet kid, resilient enough to still feel something good after what those pricks put her through.

  Naya and I examined her. The damage was extensive. She’ll never have children.

  The sound of Sol anxiously tapping draws me away from Mae-isa and her mother’s tear-drenched face. Not willing to wait any longer with the impending threat, Ren throws me over his shoulder and hits the lever to lower the hatch.

  “Rivan? Sol? Update,” Ren demands as he drops me into my seat and glides toward the star map. The other Illusians are already strapped in.

  “We have maybe ten minutes to clear the atmosphere of Deeb before the closest Universal Community vessel will intercept us.” Sol slides his finger across his tablet and gulps. “They have been given clearance to pursue, Acia.”

  “Don’t they always give chase?” Leandra asks. Ragar snorts from behind her, and she turns to glare at him. “Oh, you shut right the hell up. I either exist, or I don’t. You don’t get it both ways. So, keep your shitty little noises to yourself.”

  The vein on Ragar’s forehead bulges as he stares anywhere but at her. No matter how obvious his frustration, he never actually disrespects her. Only says, or does, just enough to drive her insane.

  And me. And everyone else.

  For two weeks they’ve been at each other’s throats, and I’m done with it. All they do is sulk and glare. Neither one bothering to address the real issue and actually talk about what happened before she went on the mission with Ari. I thought things would get better after Ari and his new mate Dena left, but it didn’t. If anything, it got worse.

  Sol clears his throat. “Yes, but on occasion they are given permission to go beyond the Universal Community’s boundaries to seek their targets. This is one such time.”

  “Oh, then what the hell are we waiting for?” Leandra asks, concern straining her face.

  Another snort from Ragar, and a string of angry mumbles from Leandra, and Ren has had enough. “We leave now. The next to speak loses their tongue.”

  Chapter One

  Jayla

  The ship whines and pitches hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the blast of electricity headed straight for our hull. Ren reaches over with lightning speed to cradle my face a second before it smashes into the side of my chair.

  Damn, that was close.

  A thunderous crack explodes to my right, and the walls shake. The automated defense system blares, “Warning, impact detected.”

  Shit, we’ve been hit. Again.

  A crushing band of anxiety shortens my breaths, and I clench my jaw, fighting off my urge to panic.

  “Rivan!” Ren growls as the Illusian male fights with the ship’s controls to keep us steady. The lights flash red, and the diagnostic scan of the ship projected above us starts to blink. They’ve knocked the main comm loose.

  “Shields are still at seventy percent. If we can just maintain a moderate speed long enough to let the ultra-drive charge, we can evade them completely. But they keep fucking shooting at us.”

  “Return their fire. Let them know we are not to be trifled with.”

  Sweat dots my forehead, and dizziness presses me back into my seat. If I could just get the whole ‘holy shit we’re going to die’ part of my brain to shut up, I might be all right.

  “But Acia, we would have to meet the ship head on…” Rivan’s jaw strains as he continues to dodge the UCom-sanctioned death squad currently trying to blow a hole in our ship.

  “Use the rear facing energy cannons. It should be enough to disrupt them and allow for us to get a head start.”

  “But it could drain the shields…” Rivan says, flinching in anticipation of Ren’s response.

  Another blast rattles the walls, and we’re thrown to the side. Everything not nailed down turns into a projectile, pelting us in our seats. Irritation pulses down my bond with Ren as a hot blast of pain scrapes across my shoulder.

  “Fucking now, Rivan.”

  A series of deafening booms ring out as Rivan engages the ship on our tail. It spins, swiftly avoiding th
e incoming blasts, then returns fire.

  Another rattle. Another shake. Another hit slowly eating away at our protective shield.

  “Again,” Ren commands, gaze locked on the screen view of our rear.

  A loud-pitched cry pierces the clang of Sol’s machines smacking into each other.

  Rhia cradles Ajay right to her chest, whispering in his ear—singing, maybe—doing anything she can to calm him down, but he’s terrified. We all are.

  Rivan hits a few buttons and curses. “Our shields are now at fifty percent. We cannot risk it.”

  I just want to find a place where they don’t have to do this shit anymore.

  Ren’s knees are bouncing so fast they’re little more than a blur, and the vein in his forehead pulses with the rhythm of his heart. “Sol. Weak points.”

  Sol sucks in a deep breath. “The diagnostic scan has turned up nothing. The vessel is solid.”

  “Acia.” Rivan tears his focus away from the nav window to glance at Ren.

  Dread climbs up my throat, threatening to suffocate me. We’re going to have to fully engage them or we might not survive.

  Leandra groans and slaps a hand over her mouth, trying not to vomit. “Use the fucking EMP, already. Get this shit over with.”

  Ren stiffens and turns to Leandra. We might be on the verge of dying, but I can barely contain a snort at the way Ren looks at the males in the room, almost as if to ask, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  “Do it.”

  Like an invisible net, the EMP ripples toward them, disrupting and crippling anything electrical they use on board. The enemy ship spins out of control, while Rivan slows our speed and tries to charge the ultra-drive.

  Five seconds. It requires five seconds of moderate speed to spool to life.

  I count each one in my head.

  Four.

  Three.

  The UCom ship starts to right itself.

  Two.

  They resume their course, headed straight for us.

  One.

  We’re gone.

  A dull ache pounds in my skull. The muscles of my legs have fallen asleep, and my eyes are crossing.

  I’m getting nowhere.

  Pissed, I rip the tiny speakers off the back of my ears and chuck them against the wall. I’m so damn tired. Immediately after we narrowly escaped the UCom fighter, I locked myself in the navigation bay to do what I’ve done every single day for the last two weeks.

  Watch video journals until my eyes bleed.

  Entry after entry describing dull experiments and generic patient outcomes. Nothing to officially name the scientist who’s recording them, or why they were hidden away.

  My spine creaks as I roll my neck, stretching out the kinks that have settled in. None of this makes any sense. I’ve stared at these recordings. For weeks. The voice—the eyes… they’re his—my great-grandfather’s. They have to be. There’s no one else in the universe with a pair of eyes like that.

  I thought when my father closed his for the last time, I’d lose those dark gray orbs forever. But there they are, or something close to them, staring at me from the screen above.

  A sick, uncomfortable mix of dread and excitement sits heavy like an anchor in my gut. He could be alive. The date on the first video Sol found was less than a month ago. He’d have to be at least one-hundred and fifty years old. Common sense tells me he probably had to do something really terrible to keep living, and I feel a deep sense of guilt that a part of me longs to see him. Outside of my cousin, he’s the only human family I have left.

  The chair to my right squeaks, and heavy boots slap against the ground. Ren’s constant fidgeting is about to drive me insane. Honestly, I think I left the ear speakers on for so long to avoid listening to his continuous sighs. For an ultra-alpha, he sure does complain a lot.

  “I do not complain, Skara. I grow tired of watching you wilt in exhaustion. Let me take you to bed.” My gaze cuts to his, and I lean back in my chair, raising a brow. This whole answering my inner thoughts has gotten more and more frequent.

  Pretty awkward when you’re thinking about taking a dump.

  “No one’s asking you to watch over me. You can go to sleep. I’ll quit soon.”

  Ren crosses his arms and hits a button to further recline his seat. “I do not wish to sleep without you.” The frustration in his eyes softens as he meets my gaze. “I do not ever wish to be separated from you again.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest at the depth of emotion behind his words. Two weeks ago, we were in hell. Me, impersonating a sex slave to rescue the Illusian females, and Ren, a buyer. I was pawed at, hit, caged in like an animal, and nearly burned to death. And Ren, he spent almost half an hour thinking I was dead. Anxiety tightens my throat, and Ren clenches his fists.

  He doesn’t like the reminder. Neither do I.

  Drawn back to the screen, I take one last look at the scientist’s face before giving in.

  Everything about it feels wrong. He looks miserable—broken, even. Deep sagging wrinkles surround his eyes and mouth and a permanent frown etches his face. In every video he’s exhausted. Sad. Like the Earth animals humans used to cage for their amusement.

  If he’s alive and being hurt somewhere…

  I cringe and shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. My stiff joints creak as I force myself out of the chair, I pad over to Ren and plop down in his lap. His hands instantly palm the curve of my hips and press me against him. I tuck my head in the crook of his neck and let my eyes close.

  “Thank you again for Mae-isa. I know it was risky, but it didn’t feel right sending her off like we did the others.”

  “It was. But it was necessary. Children are of the utmost importance. There was no question escorting her ourselves was the proper thing to do.”

  I press my nose to his throat, enjoying his scent. Crisp and masculine. Even sweaty, he smells like a god. I swear if he were served as a dish, I’d lick the plate clean. “Are you glad to be done with the captain?”

  Once he was reunited with his granddaughter, the captain took Bryn and Jordan to a safe house on Kor. Both of them have a long, complicated journey ahead of them. At least they have each other.

  A light growl rumbles in his chest. “I cannot deny that I am pleased he is gone.”

  Well, that’s one positive. I’m pretty sure it was only a matter of time before Ren ripped his head off.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I rub tiny circles over the scars on Ren’s naked chest. There were so many before me, before he had a mate to heal them. The deep inch-wide gash across his sternum, the claw marks down the right side of his pec—so many times he could have been taken from me before I’d even had the chance to lay eyes on his perfect face.

  Ah, hell. I’m turning into a total sap.

  I yawn, then sit up, eyes lingering on the frozen image still hovering over my chair. Ren’s sigh scrapes across my ears—and my nerves.

  “Don’t say it,” I warn.

  He stands, clutching me to his chest. I wiggle in protest for a few seconds, then just sink into his arms. I’m too tired to fight.

  The edge of anxiety still sending my mind into overdrive blunts as the cold sensation of his gift slithers down my spine and spreads out all over my body like icy fireworks. Whatever adrenaline was keeping me awake and frantic dissipates, and I’m left with nothing but overwhelming fatigue.

  My head rolls back as he turns the corner down our hall, and I swipe at my drool. “Why didn’t you just do that before if you knew I’d give in?”

  “I will never take away your freedom of choice. I may not like your decisions, my Aciana. But I will never steal your ability to make them.”

  Damn, I love him.

  Once we make it to our room, I kick off my pants and burrow under the sheets. Ren leans over, but doesn’t climb in.

  I frown. “I thought you were joining me?”

  He reaches down and grabs his cock through his pants. “I was. But now I fear if I lie with you, I
will be unable to control my urge to take you.”

  A Ren-sized ache flares to life between my thighs. “I’m awake. Totally awake.” I yawn and snuggle deeper into my pillow. “Seriously, I’m totally ready. Just…maybe take off your own clothes…and the rest of mine as well. I’ll just lie here until you’re ready.”

  Ren growls and pushes off the bed, backing up until he’s against the wall.

  “Sleep, my Aciana.”

  Chapter Two

  Jayla

  Something looks different. The room, maybe? Yes. That’s it.

  After starting from the initial video entry dated well over a hundred years ago, I can draw the background by memory. It’s always the same. Sterile white walls. Beakers, test tubes, and a microscope spread out along a table. Various papers and writing utensils haphazardly stacked, often marred with week-old coffee rings. A few other scientists regularly come and go, their light mumbles barely audible as they talk into their own computers, making their own journals, and the man in the video is always dressed the same.

  His white jacket is stiff, flaring out as he sits. The camera is close, the majority of the screen taken up by his hunched shoulders, and smooth baby face.

  But now… it’s darker. And my great-grandfather is closer to the haunted being that turned my universe upside down two weeks ago.

  In the first hundred videos, he follows a loose routine. There’s a lightness to him as he goes through the motions. Checking numbers, pushing the papers around on his desk, almost as if he’s bored and can’t wait to get home. Then the date jumps by two years. No videos. Nothing.