Captured for the Alien Bride Lottery by Margo Collins (electric book reader TXT) 📕

I was having some kind of stroke, maybe brought on by the stress of the last week, but then I realized the entire station was shaking, the ugly decorative items on Vos’s desk sliding off onto the floor with a crash.

I grabbed Zont, trying to stay upright, as klaxons began blaring through the entire station and a military sounding voice ordered people to report to their stations. “We are under attack. I repeat, Station 21 is under attack.”

Chapter Eighteen

Zont

I heard the next blast as it hit the station. And I recognized it immediately.

The Alveron Horde. They were attacking Station 21 directly.

Did that mean that something had happened to the outposts that were supposed to guard us? For that matter, how had even a small Hordeship gotten past them and down to Earth? I had not been paying careful enough attention, too wrapped up in my own mating issues.

And now, here I was on Station 21 as a groom, not even assigned to a specific unit. I didn’t have a battle station to report to.

I could, however, protect Amelia. I grabbed her, pulling her toward the doorway, hoping to be able to stow her someplace safer than this office.

“Wait. What about Vos?” she asked, her tone worried but not panicked.

I glanced back at the Games Administrator, only to find him huddled beneath his desk. I had never thought much of him—any male who served his military time making television shows wasn’t worth much attention, as far as I was concerned.

But as I watched, a third volley hit the station so hard that the wall of Vos’s office caved in, dropping on top of the desk and almost flattening it, with Vos still beneath it.

Vos’s scream echoed through what was left of his office.

My analytical brain kicked in instantly, and I began trying to determine the safest room in the station. We’re lucky there hasn’t been a hull breach yet—not one that we know about, anyway.

“We have to get him out,” Amelia said, flipping into what I was beginning to recognize as her doctor mode and pointing at the pile of rubble mostly covering Vos.

“I’m not sure he’s worth it,” I told her, trained to make a call about which soldiers to leave behind on a mission.

She flashed a horrified glance in my direction, then shook her head. “He doesn’t have to be worth it. We still have to save him. I took an oath.”

“So did I,” I sighed, and moved toward the desk with her. Vos might technically be part of the Khanavai military, but he was basically a civilian, not a fighter.

Vos was pinned down under the old Earth wooden desk he’d had sent up here, probably at great cost to the Khanavai government. It was all I could do to keep from saying that ending up crushed under it served him right. But Amelia was right—we needed to at least try to save the smarmy bastard.

I started to push against the wall to see if I could shift it—or at least most of the weight of it—off the desk.

“Wait,” Amelia called out. “I need to check something first.”

I nodded and backed off for a moment while she bent down, murmuring gently to the Games Administrator. “Okay, take a deep breath, breathe with me. In and out. Slowly. There you go. Don’t hyperventilate.” Once she had him somewhat calm, she began checking the points where the desk pinned him down.

“Call Medical,” Amelia instructed me.

I tried, but all I got was static. “I can’t reach them.”

“I guess it’s up to us, then.” She continued murmuring to Vos as she checked his vitals.

As she did that, a crackle came through my wrist com. “Where are you?” Cav asked.

I keyed my com to respond. “Vos’s office. He’s pinned down. Amelia is trying to help him.”

“Be there in five,” Cav replied, and cut the com.

When I turned my attention back to her, Amelia was explaining something to Vos. “So I’m going to have to tie this off. It’s going to hurt, and I’m sorry about that. But if I don’t, you’re likely to bleed out entirely when we move this desk off you.”

Vos whimpered but nodded his comprehension.

Amelia glanced up at me. “We need something to make a tourniquet with. I need to be able to tighten it around his leg, right here.” She pointed to a spot on his thigh.

I crouched down to take a look. Part of the desk had splintered off and gone straight through the director’s upper leg, literally staking him to the floor.

“I don’t know if it’s in an artery,” Amelia murmured, “or if it’s just gone through the muscle, but I want to make sure we can save his life.”

I tilted my head, the gesture suggesting that we move away from Vos for a moment. “Can you save the leg?”

She shrugged. “I won’t know until I see it. But every moment we spend talking about it is another moment that he might be losing that limb.”

Without asking any more questions, I stripped off my sword belt and handed it to her. “Will this work?”

She played with the buckle for a moment, figuring out exactly how it worked. “This is perfect. I might need you to help me tighten it up enough before you try to lift anything off of him.”

Cav entered the room at that moment, Natalie behind him. “I understand you might need help moving some things,” Cav said.

“Oh, good, You’re here. Perfect,” Amelia said, moving back toward Vos and handing out assignments as if she had been born to it. “Natalie, you hold his hand while I get this tourniquet on. Cav, stand there. Be ready to lift the wall and then the desk when I tell you. Mr. Klavoii? Can you hear me?”

Vos opened his eyes, his skin having turned an ashy shade under the natural green of his complexion. “I’m here.”

“Okay. Keep breathing, nice and slow, just like we talked about. Like this.” She demonstrated, ostensibly for Vos, but she held Natalie’s gaze