Alien Claim
Author
Rebekah Halt
Reads
98.0K
Chapters
41
Abducted to an alien world where human women are bred for survival, Fenn never expects to be chosen-nor by the alien king himself. Zarek’s claim offers protection, passion, and peril, as their forbidden bond threatens to upend an empire built on control.
Chapter 1: The Choosing
YEAR: 2200
They took what they wanted—when they wanted it.
I was lucky, all things considered. I was nineteen years old, and I’d never seen an alien. My parents had. They were born to slaves—humans bound to aliens for life. But their parents managed to hide them after they were born. They had to. By then, the Law had already been imposed.
The Law was simple. Humans were not permitted to breed with one another unless authorized. Humans were required to breed with aliens when ordered.
The aliens said it was necessary for them to breed with us. Even with all their technology, their population was dying out. Something went wrong, and reproduction became nearly impossible for them. That’s why they took Earth.
Alien DNA was very dominant. When they bred with a human woman, there was barely a trace of her left in the child. So they came down, examined the fertile women, and took them away. They used their bodies like factories. Two children were the standard requirement. After that, a woman was given a choice. Return to Earth—or remain in space.
The women always came back. The children didn’t. They were raised as aliens, never knowing the women who carried them.
My parents survived because they were hidden as infants by their parents. Then, after years of being illegal, they were miraculously reclassified as servants. And after that—by luck I don’t fully understand—they were transferred to a free colony.
“Free” was a loose word. Aliens could still take what they wanted from us, and they could still destroy us if we displeased them. But we didn’t belong to any one alien, and we were not owned.
Some colonies farmed, others raised livestock. Some manufactured whatever the aliens needed. Our purpose was production. We grew crops and made materials such as fabrics or sheets of wood and metal.
We lived in shacks under a permanent gray sky, where grass still grew, well, sometimes. But it was better than slavery or servitude.
The aliens weren’t rumored to be kind, so we were lucky in that sense.
Our colony handled most things ourselves. The aliens didn’t care if we were low on food and water or if our equipment barely worked, provided the deliveries arrived on time. If something broke, we fixed it. If crops failed, we planted more. If demand increased, we worked longer.
As bad as life could be here, there were worse colonies—such as the mining colonies, where quotas were brutal, and the conditions alone could kill you.
My father oversaw deliveries for our colony, so at the end of each cycle, the colony loaded his truck with whatever quota we’d been assigned. Then, he drove it to the drop site, and if everything was acceptable, we were granted another cycle of “freedom.” It had been this way for over one hundred years.
And today was supposed to be no different.
I was standing over a wooden barrel, stirring fermented wine with a long metal rod, when I felt it. A sudden shift in the air. I swear to God, even the wind stopped. I paused, squinting at the sky. It was like the sound was coming from…
Oh shit.
Around me, the colony slowed. Everyone froze mid-walk, their eyes shifting upward. We all knew there was no use in trying to run if the aliens came. They’d check. For every single one of us.
And if someone was missing, well. The Law just didn’t allow it.
Humans were to be present and attentive when called upon. Any attempts to hide would result in loss to the surrounding populations. So, in other words—if you ran, they would destroy your entire colony and kill everyone around you. So, unless you were fine with your entire colony being blown into pieces, you’d better show up.
I swallowed, letting go of the metal rod in my hand. Then, I felt my mother approach my side. “Why are they here?” I whispered.
She shook her head. “Everything was delivered as scheduled. So that only leaves one thing.”
I felt her reach for my hand. She squeezed it, and I squeezed hers back. “They need fertile women,” I replied, voice cracking.
She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. We both knew.
The ship was growing closer. It was enormous and made of polished silver and shining lights. And for the first time in my life, I knew I was about to see an alien.
The ship didn’t land completely; instead, it hovered. Swirls of dust and debris clouded the air around us. I pulled my shirt up to cover my mouth, coughing as the dirt filled my lungs.
The doors slid open, and they stepped out.
“Whoa,” I said under my breath. “They’re massive.” The aliens were far taller and larger than any human I had ever seen.
“Keep quiet,” my mother whispered. I looked over at her briefly. She looked cool, calm, and collected somehow. Her brown hair fell loose from her bun, small tufts brushing against her forehead—brown eyes vacant with not one ounce of fear.
That was my mother. She was tough as nails. I’d seen her take down a Slog before. Slogs are massive worm-like creatures—triple the size of a human, with large, sharp teeth. I’d watched my mother spear one through the heart without hesitation. She was fearless then—and she was fearless now.
The aliens were emerging in neat rows, their movements stiff as they approached us. They all looked the same, species-wise. They had the same elongated, pointed ears and golden glowing eyes.
They walked toward the center of the colony without hesitation, and we parted instinctively to make room. I could hear gasps and whispers around me. Most of the young people around me had never seen one. But most of the older people had, and they’d warned us about being fully compliant.
My father stepped forward. He was one of the few humans who interacted with the aliens, because of the deliveries. I suppose he thought he would be the one to speak to them. His shoulders were straight, and his gaze was confident. He spoke to them in their language, using slow, careful syllables that clicked and curved in ways mine never could.
I looked away, my heart thudding. I was supposed to understand the alien’s language. It was the Law. My parents had warned me when I was younger and begged me when I was older. Please, Fenn. Just learn it.
I hadn’t. A small, stupid act of rebellion. One that felt fucking stupid now. I knew enough to ask about the weather or ask someone’s name. But not much more.
One of the aliens replied to my father. The sound made me nauseous. What if they spoke to me?
The alien stepped forward, voice carrying across the crowd. He towered over my dad, the man whom I had always believed was so tall. He barked out orders that I did not understand.
No one moved at first. Then people began to step back or step forward. I noticed that the young women were the ones stepping forward. I did the same. So did my sister, Sola.
I saw her boyfriend Blaze, staring at her from across the crowd. His eyes were locked onto her. They were meant to marry next cycle. I looked away.
An alien approached one of the women while carrying a small scanner with a holographic screen. He held it in front of her and waved it near her abdomen. A tone sounded. The alien said something to her in his language, and her face fell.
But it was only momentary as she quickly straightened out her expression, nodded, and walked toward the ramp to board the ship. It was like she had accepted her fate.
The second was sent onto the ship. Then the third. Then the fourth.
Then he stopped in front of me.
I looked up, meeting the eyes of the alien in front of me. His eyes glowed back at me, bright and yellow. But he showed no emotion. He towered over me, his large body casting a shadow that swallowed me whole. He wore dark, plated armor that glistened. Yet when he moved, the armor flowed like fabric.
First, he took my wrist and examined the number that was tattooed onto it. The brand. A requirement for all humans. An identification number that helped them keep track of us. He tapped the screen of the scanner, and my face appeared. He looked at me and then at the screen to confirm my identity.
Then, he reached out and waved the scanner in front of my abdomen. The scanner paused. Then the tone changed, and a different sound played. It wasn’t like the others.
The alien tilted his head. He stepped closer. The scanner swept again, but this time lower. Over my hip. Over my thigh. Down to my knee and then my lower leg.
The alien’s head snapped up, and he squinted at the panel on the scanner. He said something to me in his language that I didn’t understand. I saw my mother’s shoulders relax from the corner of my eye.
I decided to nod at him in response. Maybe that would work.
It did. Thankfully, the alien walked away.
“Augmented,” my mother whispered to me, translating the alien’s words for me.
I let out a sigh of relief. I stumbled back into the line, my chest tight, my ears ringing. For once in my life, I was happy that I had a prosthetic leg. A robotic prosthetic, to be exact. Created using alien technology.
I was born with only half a leg, the perks of being conceived in such a contaminated, polluted world. Sometimes we were born with only partial limbs—or even partial brains or lungs. Something else we could thank the aliens for.
The scanner moved on. It stopped in front of Sola.
“No,” I said under my breath, as I felt my mother tug on my hand. She was willing me to be silent.
It beeped. The way it did for the girls who had been selected. I felt my mother’s body tense, but her face remained unchanged. My father was watching, his expression blank. But I knew they cared—they just couldn’t show it.
My sister’s eyes grew moist, and I saw her turn to look at her fiancé. Blaze began to step forward. “Wait—” he started.
I saw it then. How this would end. If Blaze caused a scene, we were all going to die. Because that was the Law. Humans were to comply with all orders. Any attempts to disobey would result in the loss of the surrounding populations.
Before anyone could stop me, I stepped out of line. “I’ll go! Willingly!”
Every head turned.
