Outlander (Borealis)

BOOK: Outlander (Borealis)
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Borealis Part One: Outlander

By Ellie Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

To my husband who
loves me and supports me though he doesn’t always understand me. You are the
greatest teacher I’ve ever had. I would never have had the courage to be my true
self if it hadn’t been for you. I love you, always.

 

I dedicate Borealis
to every woman who has ever been ashamed or afraid of her own divine erotic
power. It’s okay to have a big sex drive, to want to walk a different path than
your sisters. So you’re kinky or adventurous or wild—there’s nothing wrong with
you. Own your strength and let your sensuality soar. You are not alone.

Relish your
strangeness. No human being who was ever worth a damn was accused of being
normal.

Although you may be
criticized and misunderstood for honoring your true nature, it will be the
right thing to do for your body, your soul, your spirit.

And one day—one
beautiful, unexpected day—you’ll know you did the right thing and it will be
GLORIOUS.

 

 

Chapter 1

Weightless, I floated between sleep and awakening. I wanted
to stay swaddled in this nurturing place forever, but a light beyond my eyelids
compelled me to wake up.

Abstract memories bubbled up, slicing my psyche with
anxiety: my naked body lying immobile on the side of a desolate road…two
strange men carrying me into a vehicle that hovered above the ground
soundlessly…a flash of light on my face and then nothing.

With an urgent gasp for breath, my eyes flew open. All I
could see was a luminous sea of white—harsh, intrusive and clinical.  

When I heard two male voices, I froze.

“According to the scan, there is nothing physically wrong
with her, Marcus.”

“Then her wounds are emotional?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“What does her scan say?”

“There’s no name, no erotic role, no life path. It has to
be her.”

The men spoke in New Zealand or maybe South African accents.
The metallic bed I was on felt unusually warm like it was being heated, which
seemed wrong somehow.

A sheet covered me like a shroud diffusing the brilliant
light beyond the fabric. I wondered if they thought I was dead. My cry for help
came out as a strangled groan.

A warm hand on my forehead startled me. I held my breath.

“You’re safe now. Try to stay calm,” one of them said.

Calm was completely out of the question. I was lying naked
on a narrow bed secured at my neck, wrists, waist and ankles by curved glowing
tubes. My arms were fixed at my sides, my ankles secured shoulder-width apart.
I pushed against the restraints and whined because I couldn’t find my voice.

When the sheet slid off my face, my eyes strained to adjust
to the light. From what I could tell, I was in a white room lit from above,
though I couldn’t figure out where the ceiling started or ended. The smooth
bleached walls were lined with glass-front metal cabinets, displaying amorphous
objects made of burnished metal.

A strange man stood at my bedside. His irises were caramel
brown with flecks of ochre and orange. It was like looking into the eyes of a
wolf.

The man had a gentle way about him despite his odd appearance;
make that his
very odd
appearance.

A white swath of fabric was draped over his left shoulder.
Underneath it he wore a gauzy linen t-shirt. An indigo blue sash was tied
around his waist. The juxtaposition of Ancient Roman clothing with the ultra-modern
décor threw me.

As if being strapped naked to a metal bed wasn’t crazy
enough, I was gawking at a lupine-eyed man in a toga. I had to be dreaming,
this was too bizarre.  

“I’m Galen, the healer. We found you disoriented on the
road. Do you remember?”

Spikes of ice traveled up my spine. I did remember the road
and nothing else. I had a bad feeling this was really happening. “Yes.” My
voice sounded like gravel. “Why am I tied down?”

Though my vision wasn’t totally clear yet, I spotted another
man at the foot of the bed. He was too far away for me to make out his
features. All I could tell was that he was shirtless and wearing strange
shorts.

Confused, I glanced back at Galen. Though he was obviously
young—late twenties or early thirties—he spoke with a mild, reassuring tone
that sounded too mature and wise for his age. “We covered your face to calm you
and I restrained you so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

I couldn’t imagine why he thought I would hurt myself.
“Where am I?”

“The healing room.”

My pulse kicked up a notch. Galen could be a doctor and this
place could be a hospital room or clinic. That still didn’t explain the strange
clothing.

I didn’t recognize any of the objects displayed on the
shelves. My stomach clenched. Squirming under the strange curved tubes that
kept me tethered to the bed, I shouted at him as raw panic set in. “Take these
off!”

He swept the sheet completely off in one swift motion,
exposing me to him and the other man.

Too shocked to protest, I lay still as a stone, every muscle
tensed and all my senses vigilant. Neither man appeared to have any awareness
that I should be humiliated or embarrassed.

With terrified fascination, I watched as Galen made the
tubes disappear by merely touching them with his index finger.  

Somehow I managed to push through my fear and sit up. I was
shaking all over as I tucked my knees under my chin. “Put the sheet back on,
please.”

Galen frowned, inching closer. “Are you cold?”

The glare I gave him only confused him. Finally, he handed
me the sheet.

I snatched the sheet and cocooned myself in it. “How did you
do that? With those…” I wiggled my fingers at him. “Light things.”

“I can manipulate God’s Light.”

My brain refused to grasp the meaning of that statement. I
couldn’t process it now so I tucked it away. I would deal with it when I had a
stronger foothold on my sanity.

When my vision returned to normal I let myself study the
second man who was eyeing me with concern.  

Following my gaze, Galen gestured to him. “This is Dominus
Marcus Alexis.”

He was about the same age as Galen, but he was dressed in a
loin cloth secured by a wide leather belt inlaid with metallic detail. Unlike
Galen, who looked more like a nobleman, this man was bigger and by the lack of
clothing, I assumed he was of a lower class. His forearms were covered with
more leather and metal. A gladiator, I thought to myself, and I almost laughed
at how absurd that sounded. I was either having one hell of a dream or I had
stumbled into some seriously freaky shit.

A black tattoo made up of three amoebic shapes inside a
circle was inked over the gladiator’s heart. He had short, honey brown hair; a
few strands streaked with gold. His sinewy, tanned skin was hairless except for
a shadow of stubble on his face. Though he was built like a warrior, I
perceived no violence or malice in him.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I said.

Galen nodded. “You’re fine, physically. Do you remember
anything at all?”

After a sharp intake of air I strained to concentrate, but
no matter how hard I tried, I had no memory of a life before the road. My past
was a black void. I didn’t even know my name or where I was from. Tears welled
in my eyes as I was overcome by a feeling of hopelessness. “I don’t remember.”

Galen sandwiched my hand in both of his. With a worried
expression, he spoke to me. His words were tinged with concern. “I was afraid
of that. I can only heal physical wounds, but I’m powerless when it comes to
matters of the heart or mind.”

“The mind?” My eyes darted to Galen then Marcus. “What do
you mean? You think I’ve lost my mind?”

Galen glanced nervously at Marcus.

Marcus walked over to us and stood on the other side of my
bed. “Because you have no memory, it’s hard to explain. Just know that we hope
this is a temporary state and in the meantime, we will make you as comfortable
as possible.”

My mind raced. Now it was time to ask the scary questions.
“Where am I?”

Marcus looked me square in the eye and spoke slowly, as if I
were a child. “We are in our Master’s Holy Palace.”

Had I stumbled into the clutches of a cult? What were they
talking about? “What state, what city am I in?”

More confused looks. Why couldn’t they answer a simple
question?

That’s when the magnitude of my situation became crystal
clear. The peculiar room, odd clothing, dissolved restraints and unrecognizable
objects were…otherworldly. Alien.

My heart threatened to beat out of my chest. I wrapped the
sheet tighter around me and shuddered. My voice faltered. “What planet am I
on?”

“Borealis,” the men said in unison.

“Oh, God.” I felt faint.

Marcus caught me before I teetered over the edge of the bed.
“Yes, God will sort this out.”

I struggled to find my breath. It was obvious they had no
idea who or what I was. I placed a shaky palm on my chest. “I’m from Earth.”

Marcus frowned. “The ground?”

“No, the
planet
Earth!”

Blank stares from both of them.

“I’m not from here, don’t you understand? I’m from another
planet!”

The men were stunned, slack-jawed. For at least a minute,
they didn’t speak. Finally, Galen squeezed my shoulder. “Borealis is the only
planet in our universe that can sustain life.”

Thoughts crashed against each other as the room tilted at an
impossible angle. While Marcus held me up, my consciousness slipped away. Within
seconds I was back in bliss.

 

A wave of nausea slammed against
me as I tried to rouse myself from a disturbing nightmare. There was an
uncomfortable feeling of fullness in my mouth that made me wretch.

The alien healing room came into focus again along with
Marcus and Galen. After I came to full consciousness, I saw my naked body
restrained to the narrow bed like before, but without a blanket to cover me. I
screamed behind the ball gag in my mouth.

Marcus stroked my hair as if that could soothe me. “I’m
sorry about the gag. It’s for your protection. God will be here soon and he’ll
know what to do.”

God will be here?! Did they mean that literally?

I fought the restraints while tears rolled down my face.
 How could these men who seemed to be genuinely concerned about me treat
me like this?

Visibly upset by my anguish, Marcus bent down and pressed a
chaste kiss on my forehead. “Please don’t cry. There is no pain in the healing
room.”

A baritone voice roared behind the two men. “Our God,
Creator and Master enters here.”

Galen and Marcus bowed in reverence as two men dressed like
Roman Centurions marched in and opened a path. They were in full military gear:
tunics, helmets, armor and swords.

An elegant man appeared behind them, sauntering in with a
composed arrogance that was both alluring and intimidating. A purple coat
intricately brocaded in gold thread hung over his shoulders. Hair as black as a
raven’s feathers edged an exotic face that I would have pegged as Eurasian if
we had been on Earth. He had large, dark eyes that were slightly slanted. His
pouty mouth was suggestive, making an evocative statement that made me tingle
despite my terror.

Galen and Marcus gave him wide berth as he crossed the room
to my bedside.

“Master,” they said.

Every one of my nerve ending zinged. I swallowed my tears
and stared at him, mesmerized by this beautiful, exotic creature and terrified
by the fierceness in his eyes.

He shrugged off his coat and one of the sentries hurried to
catch it before it hit the floor.

When he stood over me, I broke out in goose bumps. His power
was a living thing. It radiated off him and seeped under my skin until I felt
it thundering through my veins. Aware of my frail humanity, I shuddered.
  

I knew instinctively that I was in the presence of a
dangerous being. I was petrified. What did he plan to do with me? I mentally
ticked off the awful possibilities—rape, experimentation, imprisonment, death
and I threw in ritual sacrifice for good measure.  

The Master smirked, drinking in the sight of my prone form
with a long, unhurried look. He spoke with wonder in a voice that sounded like
velvet. “You are extraordinary.” 

His hand reached for my face and I jerked away. Amused at my
reaction, he raised an eyebrow. “Well, you are in quite the predicament, aren’t
you? You have no name, no erotic role and no life path. And what was it is this
about another planet…Earth, was it?”

Glaring at him, I screamed an unintelligible, “Fuck you,”
behind my gag. If I was predestined to die, I wasn’t going down without a
fight. I was burning with rage. My skin was hot, tight and slick with
perspiration.

Rattled, Galen and Marcus eyed him anxiously, clearly
waiting for an answer.

“I have never had one of my progeny escape a Creation ritual
before.” His gaze lingered on my breasts, which were shaking along with the
rest of my body. He grinned. “But you are definitely one of mine.”  

The other two men exhaled and relaxed. This was the answer
they were hoping for, though I knew it was a lie.

“You are out of balance,” God continued, “and that’s the
fastest way to get to the Next place. We must set you on your life path
immediately.” He gave Marcus a tense glance and directed his next words to me.
“Marcus Alexis will look after you. Obey him without fault and he will protect
you and teach you the ways of Borealis. I hope for your sake and his that he
succeeds.”

With that he was through with me. God turned and started
towards the door as if he had more pressing things to take care of than a
terrified girl tied naked to a bed.

There was agitation in Marcus’s voice as he asked him two
questions. “Master, is she submissive? Is she mine?”

Mine!?

The Master huffed out air as if he was being inconvenienced.
Reluctantly, he returned to my bedside and I recoiled.

With his back to me, he splayed his right palm on my
quivering belly with his middle finger resting over my clitoral hood. I tried
to squirm away from his touch, but his hand remained steady. “She has strong
dominant and submissive energies.”

Deflated, Marcus frowned and raked his fingers through his
hair.

“Add to that the lack of imprinting and you have your work
cut out for you.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “But it is possible, Master?”

The Master nodded and patted Marcus on the shoulder. “If you
can bond with her, she’s yours.”

Marcus let out a breath and even managed a reserved smile
before nodding to the Master in reverence. With his head bowed, Marcus stuck
his elbows out and wrapped his left hand—which was closed into a fist—with his
right palm. “I will do my best, Master.”

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