The Lost Savior Read online

  DEDICATION

  For Jennifer Gibson without whom this book, and this series, would not exist. Thank you for suggesting I write reverse harem, for begging me to make it an alien reverse harem, and for being my sounding board from the inception of this project. Your enthusiasm and excitement has bolstered me the entire time, and I’m so very grateful to always have you in my corner.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Important Note From The Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  The Secret Heir (Alinthia #2)

  Saven Deception (The Saven Series Book One)

  Sample – Saven Deception

  Acknowledgments

  Important Note From The Author

  About The Author

  Books By Siobhan Davis

  Copyright

  IMPORTANT NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Are you aware that if you borrow a book from Kindle Unlimited and read in Page Flip mode the author doesn’t get paid? Amazon has recently confirmed this to authors, and there is no indication as to whether they intend to fix this or not. I hate mentioning this, but as my page reads continue to decline (despite the fact I have way more books enrolled in Kindle Unlimited), I may need to revisit my participation in the program going forward. I would never ask any reader to stop reading in Page Flip mode, as reading is highly personal, but I do want to ensure every reader is fully aware of all the facts so they can make their own informed decision. Thanks for your attention.

  Chapter 1

  Tori

  “What about this one?” Kenzie asks, pulling a short, gaudy strapless purple gown off the rack and thrusting it at me.

  I hand it straight back to her, quickly disguising my distaste. “Not my style, and I think Jensen would have a coronary if I turned up to Winter Formal in something like that.”

  She pouts at the mention of my boyfriend. I’ve noticed her doing that a lot since she broke up with Jack, and my heart aches for her. Our superstar quarterback hottie was her ride-or-die guy for the past three years, and I know she’s hurting.

  I’d feel the same if Jensen and I ever split—not that that’s within the realm of possibility. We’ve known each other since we were little kids, chasing one another around my parents’ farm, and our coupling is as inevitable as Taylor Swift penning a new song upon breaking up with her latest boyfriend. I smile as his image flashes through my mind’s eye. Thoughts of Jensen always cause my heart to surge with happiness. I’ve known he's “the one” for years, and I can’t imagine my life without him in it.

  Kenzie pouts, planting her hands on her slim hips as she narrows her eyes in my direction. I’m betting I’ve got that dreamy look on my face—the one she always accuses me of when I’m thinking of Jensen.

  Can’t help it.

  I’m crazy in love with my boy.

  “You should dress for yourself, Tori. Trust me, no boy is worth changing your whole personality for.”

  “I completely agree, which is why I declined. That dress isn’t me. You know I prefer more of an understated look.”

  She rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath. “Such a waste of killer curves.”

  I smile, continuing to scroll through the selection of dresses while Kenzie stomps off to the changing room with said garish purple dress in hand. Shopping with my three besties is rarely a drama-free zone.

  “What do you think of this one?” Kylie asks, and I look over my shoulder. She spins around, and my eyes skim the length of her. She’s wearing a cherry-red one-shouldered floor-length gown that looks as if it was custom made for her. The vibrant hue of the dress contrasts perfectly with her radiant skin and blonde corkscrew curls.

  “Wow, Kylie. That’s a knockout. You look stunning. You should totally get it.”

  “I think so too,” she agrees, her smile expanding. “I’ve got the dress; now all I need is the guy.”

  “You’ll get a date,” I reply with supreme confidence. Although Kylie’s dating history is disastrous, to say the least, she is never short of admirers. With her bubbly personality, quick wit, sharp intelligence, and gorgeous face, there’s no doubt she’ll get asked to the dance.

  “I’m not even sure I want one.” She cocks her head to the side, lost in thought. “Honestly, that last date with Joel Buchanon has pretty much obliterated my faith in the male race.” She shudders at the memory.

  “You can always go with Hunter. He doesn’t have a date yet, and he’d be totally cool with going as friends.” Hunter is Jensen’s best bud and an all-around nice guy. I know he’d look after my bestie if she was his date. Plus, he’s decent arm candy, and that never hurts.

  She purses her lips. “I might do that, but don’t say anything to Jensen until I’ve thought about it.”

  I drag my finger across my closed lips in a zipping motion. “These lips are sealed.”

  She walks to my side, grinning. “Found anything?”

  “I was thinking this.” I hold up the floor-length dark-blue layered-chiffon dress with the crisscross halter top. Apart from a thin band of beading across the waist, it’s fairly plain and not too revealing.

  “That is so you.” Taking my elbow, she steers me toward the dressing room. “Go try it on!”

  I step out of the stall a few minutes later, twirling in front of the mirror.

  “Perfect,” Kylie exclaims, her eyes twinkling. “You look straight fire. Jensen won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

  “It’s not like he needs any encouragement,” Zara deadpans, throwing me a knowing look. “Since you two did the deed, he’s all over you like a rash.”

  I laugh. “I’ve three words for you. Pot. Kettle. Black.”

  “I’m happily sexed up and proud.” She winks, casting a glance over her shoulder to look at the rear of the figure-hugging black strapless dress she has on. “The things my man can do with his body.” She licks her lips. “I’m hot just thinking about it.”

  Kenzie none too politely nudges Zara aside, hogging the mirror. “We’re sick and tired of hearing about your sex life. Put a sock in it.” Her salty tone is obvious in the extreme.

  Zara pouts. “You’re no fun since you broke up with Jack, and you totally need to get laid.”

  “If she turns up to the dance in that,” Kylie interjects, jerking her head in Kenzie’s direction, “we won’t have a problem. She’ll be fighting them off in droves.” Kenzie gives Kylie a winning smile before slanting a smug look in Z
ara’s direction.

  Zara is a loyal friend, but she doesn’t tolerate fools or crybabies, and her patience with Kenzie is in limited supply these days. Zara’s ability to bounce back is legendary, so she can’t fathom why Kenzie is still moping around, especially since Jack is dating again and has clearly moved on. But I have sympathy for her. She had their future all mapped out, and it’s more than just a boy breaking up with her—it’s the dissolution of all her dreams.

  A sour taste fills my mouth, but I force all thoughts of Jack aside before he ruins my good mood. “I love it, Kenzie,” I say. “It’s much classier than the purple one. The guys will be tripping over themselves to get to you.”

  “Aw, you guys.” She pulls Kylie and me into a group hug. Zara rolls her eyes, returning to the stall to change.

  We converge on the checkout en masse. Once our dresses are packaged and paid for, we make our way outside the store and into the busy mall. It’s Thursday night, and the place is packed. I check my cell while we walk, tuning out as my friends argue over whether to eat at Chick-fil-A or Olive Garden. I’m not looking where I’m going, busy responding to a text message from Jensen, when I slam into someone. I stumble, losing my balance, and my cell goes flying out of my hand, skittering across the grimy tile floor. I land, unceremoniously, flat on my butt, a shooting pain zipping up my spine. Rubbing a hand across my lower back, I look up and freeze.

  The guy looming over me looks like the kind of scary dude my parents have warned me about. With his shaved head, bulging muscles, lip, nose, and eyebrow rings, and his arms covered in tats, he’s a bit of a walking cliché. But it’s not actually his appearance that has me on edge. He could look like that and be a pussy cat on the inside. No, it’s the penetrating look in his eyes and the dangerous vibes he’s emitting that are freaking me out. That and the fact I’m still on my butt and he’s like this deadly menace hovering over me.

  I clamber to my feet, brushing bits of dirt off the back of my jeans. Scary dude is staring at me expectantly. “Um, sorry,” I mumble, not forgetting my manners even though the guy is creeping me out. He towers over me, and at five-foot-ten, in my bare feet, that’s no easy feat. He doesn’t reply. He just continues to stare at me, his eyes blazing with interest. An intense chill tiptoes down my spine, and I swallow hard.

  When he leans in closer, I instinctively take a step back, cowering under the intensity of his probing gaze. His eyes are a peculiar dark blue—almost black—color that I’ve never seen before. He tilts his head from side to side, sniffing the air and staring at me like I’m some kind of science experiment. The expression on his face is a combination of shock and amused delight, and his weird reaction is giving me a major case of the heebie-jeebies.

  I move sideways, but he anticipates my reaction, reaching out to grip my arm. A sharp shock ripples over my skin, traveling instantly throughout my body, like a domino effect. My veins are buzzing, my limbs jerking and quivering, and I sway a little on my feet. The sensation is unlike anything I’ve felt before—it’s almost like I’ve plugged myself into an electrical socket, and I’m feeling the charge from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

  His eyes glimmer with excitement, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over me.

  Kylie takes hold of my arm, tugging me away from him. “Let’s go,” she whispers, concern etched across her face. Shooting a nervous glance at the guy, she guides me over to my squad, and we hustle toward the exit.

  Although he stays rooted to the spot, the creepy guy watches us walk away, his eyes fixated on me. Nervous adrenaline courses through me, and I gulp over the aura of danger filtering through the air.

  Something is very wrong.

  I feel it in my bones.

  I’m like a zombie as I let my friends drag me down the corridor and out into the frigid night air.

  “Ohmigawd! That guy was super creepy,” Kenzie supplies, articulating what we all thought. “And did he actually sniff you?” Her voice elevates a few octaves.

  “The way he was staring at you gave me goose bumps all over,” Zara adds. “Do you know him or something?”

  I shake my head, feeling distinctly unwell. My body’s strangely on edge, even though I feel simultaneously drained—every limb, every bone, every nerve ending, and every tissue feels limp, weak, as if I’ve been zapped with some energy-draining weapon, yet my mind is churning a hundred miles an hour. Images flit through my subconscious, just out of reach, but my brain is all fired up. “I’ve never met him before in my life. I’ve no idea who he is or why he was looking at me like that.”

  “Let’s go to Olive Garden,” Kylie suggests. “It’s outside the mall, and if we leave now, Creepy McCreep won’t know where we’ve gone.”

  “Good plan,” Zara confirms, walking with urgency toward the parking lot. We follow her to Kenzie’s brand-spanking-new SUV, clambering inside.

  I lean my head against the side of the window, as Kenzie gets us out of there.

  “You okay?” Kylie inquires, her voice laced with concern.

  “I’m feeling a bit lightheaded is all.” Then I remember my cell. “Shoot. We have to go back. I left my cell.”

  “I have it.” Kylie extracts my cell from her purse, handing it to me. “The screen’s all smashed, I’m afraid.”

  “Damn it. Dad’ll freak out. That’s the second iPhone I’ve ruined this year.” Dad won’t let me run without bringing my cell, so Jensen created this cool arm strap thingy for my phone. Except the prototype wasn’t that robust, and my cell slipped out of the strap while I was running, smashing into smithereens on the road. I had to grovel for a replacement. Dad’s old school, and he’s brought me up to respect the value of money. I only got a new cell because I performed extra chores around the house and the farm to pay for it and because Dad doesn’t like me going anywhere without a means of contacting them.

  My parents have always been super-protective of me. They adopted me late in life, and I’m their only child, so they have a tendency to overreact, at times. Especially when it comes to my safety. I don’t know how they’re going to cope when I leave for the University of Michigan in the fall.

  “Maybe wonder-boy can invent a foolproof non-breakable cell,” Zara says with a smirk, in nod to my boyfriend’s inventor-genius mind.

  “Wouldn’t that be something,” I muse, trying to clear the fog now clouding my mind.

  “Think of how filthy rich you’d be,” Kylie adds, winking.

  “Only if she gets a ring on it,” Kenzie retorts, parking the SUV in front of Olive Garden.

  “Everyone knows that’s only a formality,” Kylie says, scoffing. “Tori is Jensen’s forever girl.”

  Even with my wonky vision, I don’t miss the look of devastated envy on Kenzie’s face or Zara’s eye roll.

  We’re seated at a table by the window, at the back of the restaurant, munching on breadsticks, and I’m feeling sicker with every passing second. My head is swimming, my vision is all blurry, and I’m having trouble focusing on anyone or anything. A sharp stabbing pain pierces my skull, and I cry out, dropping my head into my hands.

  “Tori? You okay?” Kylie asks.

  “Need the restroom,” I mumble, scrambling to my feet. My legs threaten to go out from under me, and my head is in excruciating pain. It’s like someone is prodding my skull with a million tiny pinpricks. I stumble through the restaurant, crashing into things, apologizing profusely to the faceless people I brush past until Kylie takes my arm, guiding me the rest of the way.

  “What the hell is going on, Tori?”

  I can’t distinguish her facial features, but I hear the worry in her tone. “I wish I knew.” I make it into the cubicle in time, hurling into the toilet bowl as the contents of my stomach make an unwelcome reappearance. Tiny zap-like tremors ricochet up and down my arms and legs, and I slump to the floor, curling into a fetal position as my body convulses and spasms.

  Kylie cusses, crouching down over me and placing her hand on my forehead. “Crap. You’ve
got a fever.”

  I reach a hand out, gripping her arm, as an intense tremor takes control of my body, moving in short, sharp, pulsing vibrations as it travels up and down my limbs, causing me to contort manically on the floor. Blood thunders in my ears, and my heart is beating fast, too fast, as if it’s preparing to take flight. I cry out, still flailing on the floor and clinging to Kylie’s arm for support. My heart is going crazy, pumping ferociously, pounding and pounding behind my ribcage, building in speed and intensity, and I’m terrified I’m dying.

  A red haze seeps across my vision, coating my retinas in a scary blood-red blanket, and I scream. Strange images land in my mind, superfast and fleeting, like a movie reel playing on hyper-fast-forward in my head, but I’m in too much physical pain to latch on to them or to even worry about what they are or what they mean.

  “We need to get you home,” Kylie proposes. She slides her arm underneath me, and I wrap my arms around her neck, allowing her to pull me upright. I lean against the side of the cubicle, panting profusely, my body still shuddering and shaking. Beads of sweat have formed on my brow, and my sweater and jeans are glued to my body. Kylie hands me some toilet paper, and I wipe my mouth and dab the moisture on my forehead.

  “You must have a bug,” she deduces, looking at me with a frown. “And a nasty one at that.”

  I can only nod, trying to blink the red haze from my eyes as she ushers me out of the bathroom.

  Although Kylie’s propping me up, I’m still stumbling everywhere, garnering more unwanted attention from the other diners. My stomach drops, and my limbs start jerking violently, while the red coating on my eyes darkens to black. There’s an odd buzzing noise in my head, growing louder and more insistent. A burst of images and voices clouds my mind, and I’m hot all over. My vision turns completely black, and I can’t see a damn thing. My panic meter is cranked to the max, and my heart is pounding scarily in my chest.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  That strange electrical sensation from earlier is back, and I scream, shucking Kylie off and dropping to my knees on the floor.

  An odd thought pops into my mind, and it’s the last thing I remember before I black out.