The Forgotten Commander Read online K. Webster (Lost Planet #1)

Categories Genre: Alien, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Lost Planet Series by K. Webster
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
<<<<41422232425263444>55
Advertisement


For a moment, I panic. Half of me eyes the door. This would be the perfect moment to escape. I cringe as I consider the harsh conditions and creepy animals Hadrian spoke of. Okay, so maybe escape is a bad idea. I push that thought away immediately. Worry over Breccan takes over every thought in my mind.

The moment of indecision over what to do costs me and I do the second-best thing while I have the time.

I close the giant covers for the windows. It takes more effort than I expect and I grunt as I drag it closed, the scraping sound an assault to my eardrums. Breccan’s body shakes at my feet, then relaxes as the last rays of sunlight are covered. I take the armband from Breccan’s lifeless body without a second thought, then use it to open the door and scream for help into the hallway. Avrell’s offices are near. He has to hear me. Then, I store the armband in one of my pockets and go back to Breccan’s side to assess the damage.

His skin looks hot to the touch and has already broken out with sores in some places. I’m afraid to touch him, afraid to move him. I wonder as I bring his head into my lap if this is why they wear the suits. I hadn’t even realized he’d stripped his down behind me. His whole upper body looks bright red and painful. Is this why their skin is so white? They’re not subjected to the sun’s rays at all, so they obviously wouldn’t get a tan. As I wait for help, it makes me wonder where they came from and what exactly they are.

Breccan begins to come around as I hear footsteps racing down the hall. Relieved, tears sting my eyes as he opens his. “Why didn’t you say it was going to hurt you?” I demand. Tears drip down my cheeks and land in his hair.

He raises a welted arm and catches one of the salty offerings to bring to his lips. “It seemed to bring my mate such joy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

I feel the first stirrings of…I don’t know what. I don’t want to know. It reminds me of the way my chest felt inside when we had sex earlier and then how he took care of me after. I hurry to wipe the tears away as Avrell comes to our side. He lifts Breccan with surprising ease and we hurry back to the exam room, where we have been far too many times already.

As he and Breccan discuss what happened, I follow behind, my mind a confused maze.

“We’ve talked about this,” Avrell mutters under his breath to Breccan. “It’s getting out of control.”

“It’s not out of control,” Breccan grunts. “I’m fine.”

“It’s not out of control. I’m fine.”

I remember saying those same words to my sister. We’d spoken on the phone and I’d admitted using flora. Instead of moving on, she was concerned about my being addicted to it.

“I’m not addicted.”

I’d laughed at her. But it hurt hearing those words. I was completely addicted despite my denial. The only way I could cope with the stress of my job and things that had happened to me was with constant hits of flora. It was more like a nightmare than reality. There, I was an idol, but a mistreated one. I lived for the mind-numbing high. It was my escape.

What is Breccan escaping from?

He practically overdosed on the sun’s rays, that much I can gather. So what is it that makes him need to escape?

Responsibility. Hopelessness. Pain.

Again, my chest aches. I can relate. Having the weight of the world on your shoulders is an incredible burden. Back home, I was groomed to look and act, literally, a certain way. I never got to just be.

Like here?

I haven’t needed the flora since I’ve been here. This whole new world has been too big and too scary, but not one I needed to flee mentally from. At first, maybe, I thought it was, but as I spend more time here with these people, I’m realizing that never-ending desire to numb myself doesn’t exist.

My mind flits to earlier with Breccan in his bed. I’d been paralyzed but I wasn’t numb. I felt the way he pleasured and worshipped me. It wasn’t awful. Far from it, in fact.

The things I’d been forced to endure back home…were different. Worse.

Objectified and depersonalized until I was more a thing than a person.

Here…they need me in a way that I’ve never been needed before. Breccan, despite his brash, animalistic nature, has shown me tenderness that I haven’t experienced in a long time, if ever. I’m cared for, given blinding orgasms, and made to feel wanted and…needed.

Would I feel like that if I went back home? Had I ever? Here, I’m shocked to realize I feel almost… content. I can’t remember the last time I felt content at home without the help of a drug-induced stupor, and even then it was only fleeting.


Advertisement

<<<<41422232425263444>55

Advertisement