Page 1 of Taken By the Leviathan King

Chapter one

IMOGEN

Theparadisebeforeusfeels wrong—too perfect, too peaceful. I survey the pristine beach as we exit the landing capsule, my hand never far from my concealed weapon. Years of military training have taught me that the prettiest packages often hide the deadliest surprises. My heart pounds in rhythm with my racing thoughts; the weight of responsibility settles familiar and heavy on my shoulders. Seven women carrying humanity’s hopes.No pressure.

The Quxon tower over us, their blue skin gleaming in the sunlight. Seven feet tall at minimum, built like warriors despite their diplomatic pretenses. I count six visible, but my instincts scream there are others watching from hidden positions.

Captain Harris enters their flimsy excuse for a diplomatic tent, and I resist the urge to follow. Some diplomatic summit this is—a few sheets of weatherproof fabric between us and whatever’s lurking in those waters. At least it’s not raining. Yet.

I scan the beach, tracking my team’s movements with the same intensity I use to check my weapon—methodical, precise, leaving no blind spots. Can’t afford mistakes. Not here, not with Earth’s future riding on these treaties. My fingers twitch toward my holster—old habits from too many missions gone sideways. Like that last one... No. Lock it down, Vance. Different planet, different mission, same damn responsibility. Keep the diplomatic team alive, whatever it takes. At least this time the threat’s right in front of us, not hiding behind handshakes and false promises. The beach stretches out like a tactical nightmare—too much open ground, too many places for hostiles to—dammit, they’re spreading out too far. Again.

A tug at my wrist pulls me from my tactical assessment. It’s Samantha, practically vibrating with scientific enthusiasm despite the potential dangers surrounding us. Her wide, trusting eyes remind me of everything I’m fighting for—and everything that could go wrong if I let my guard down for even a second.

“Hey, looks like things haven’t started yet, so I’m going to explore. Okay?” she says, already eyeing the jungle’s edge.

I arch an eyebrow, keeping my tone dry but firm. “Not happening.” When her face falls, I soften—marginally. “At least not alone. We can do recon together.” I gesture toward the treeline with my chin, my braid swinging with the movement. “Place could be crawling with hostiles, and your credentials won’t mean much if you’re dead.”

“I’ll be careful, Imogen! But do you see this?” Samantha practically vibrates with excitement, cradling the alien seashell in her gloved hands like it’s a newborn star. “This structure! And the cellular composition—it’s reacting to touch!” Her brown eyesgleam with unfiltered wonder as she turns it toward the light, oblivious to the way my entire body tenses.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Samantha, for the love of all things breathing, put it down before it reacts to touch by eating you.”

We’ve been thrown together since stasis—her with her impressive botany credentials, me with my trigger finger and trust issues. And out here, in the wild unknown of Sanos, those academic distinctions don’t mean shit if you can’t stay alive long enough to use them. I exhale sharply, forcing patience into my tone.

“Look,” I say, voice pitched low enough that only she can hear, “I get it. You see undiscovered species, I see potential threats. But we can work with that.” I check my sidearm, more out of habit than immediate need, before meeting her gaze. “You focus on your botanical breakthroughs, I’ll focus on keeping us breathing. Deal?”

Her expression softens, the spark of adventure still dancing in her eyes. She nods. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s see what we can find.”

We share a look, both glancing at the massive aliens and that damn tent that might as well be tissue paper for all the protection it offers. I take point as we move into the jungle, keeping Samantha behind me while trying to appear casual. Let them think we’re just curious scientists if they’re watching.

While she stops every few feet to collect samples, I keep my eyes peeled, scanning the dense foliage for any movement. The jungle feels alive in a way that sets my nerves on edge—too many shadows, too many places for ambush. Each rustle of leaves sends a jolt through me, reminding me of our precarious position.

I adjust my stance, trying to balance my protective instincts with the mission at hand. Glancing back toward the landingcapsule, I see it looming behind a curtain of vines, its metallic surface a stark contrast to the vibrant greens and browns surrounding us. The other women are still on the beach, but the view is blocked from my angle. I take a calculated step forward, ensuring I can maintain a line of sight to them.

I take a moment to appreciate the flora, mentally cataloging the alien plants as I crouch beside a cluster of bioluminescent flowers. They pulse softly, casting an ethereal glow that makes me wonder what secrets they hold. I reach out to touch one, its petals warm and velvety against my fingertips, and my mind flits to the potential discoveries Samantha could make with these specimens.

But I can’t let myself get lost in the wonder. I straighten, forcing my focus back to our surroundings. I take a slow breath, the salty tang of the ocean mingling with the damp earth, and let my senses sharpen. The air feels charged, hinting at an approaching storm, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.

“Get your head in the game, Lieutenant,” I mutter, my standard self-rebuke when that familiar prickle of unease crawls up my spine. Each deliberate step through the underbrush is muscle memory—the kind drilled into you through years of combat training. The twigs snapping under my boots might as well be proximity sensors, each crack a data point mapping potential threats.

Mom would’ve loved this—charging through alien vegetation on a do-or-die mission. Her voice echoes in my head, clear as the day she taught me to track: “The difference between a soldier and a survivor, baby girl, is knowing when to trust that gut feeling.” Funny how advice outlives the adviser. I buried her in Earth’s toxic soil, another casualty of humanity’s stellar screw-up. Now here I am, light-years from her grave, trying to makesure her death wasn’t just another entry in humanity’s long list of failures.

The air shifts—a displacement that triggers every combat instinct I’ve got. Something’s watching, waiting. And I’ve been in enough ambushes to know what comes next.

The explosion still catches me off-guard—because of course it does. That’s the thing about combat; you can know it’s coming and still get rattled by the bang. My body moves before my brain catches up, muscle memory dropping me into cover as I draw my weapon. The beach erupts in phaser fire, each shot painting the air with deadly intent.

“Perimeter breach imminent,” I snap, shifting to place myself between Samantha and the dense jungle wall. “When a jungle goes silent, it means something’s hunting. And we’re not the apex predator here.”

Behind me, I hear Samantha’s quick intake of breath, followed by the subtle click of her sample case closing. Good. At least the scientist has learned enough survival instincts to recognize danger when it presents itself. I scan the treeline, my finger steady on the trigger as I track any hint of movement. The air is thick with tension and the scent of salt and smoke, a reminder that this place holds both beauty and betrayal.

“Stay close,” I murmur to Samantha, careful to keep my voice low. “If I say run, you run. No samples, no data, just move.” I push aside the gnawing worry that we’re already too late for an extraction plan. Before I can guide us toward the fallback position, they appear—two massive aliens, one midnight black, the other azure with red crown-like protrusions. Their sudden emergence suggests they were waiting, watching. This was planned.

My grip tightens on my weapon as I widen my stance, creating a more effective barrier between the threats and my charge.Samantha’s safety is my priority, even if her scientific curiosity is what landed us in this mess.

A flash of azure scales catches my eye—too late. The creature moves like liquid mercury, snatching Samantha before I can squeeze the trigger. Her scream pierces the air as she’s swept away into the shadows of the dense jungle.

“Sam!” I launch after them, my boots pounding against the damp earth. Three steps in, something massive drops from above. The shadowy one moves faster than anything that size should be able to. One moment I’m taking aim, the next I’m airborne, my weapon knocked away. His grip is iron, and despite all my training, I can’t break free. Panic surges through me, but I force it down—I can’t let fear dictate my actions.

“Let me go, you oversized piece of seafood!” I slam my elbow backward, aiming for what I hope is a vulnerable spot, but my strike meets solid muscle. The contact sends tingles of awareness through my arm—a sensation I absolutely refuse to analyze. “I swear to God, if you hurt my team—”

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