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They came from the sky

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Selena has always been a down-to-earth level-headed girl, the type to prioritize responsibility for everything. Even after she ends up stuck carting her toxic soon-to-be-ex around the streets of Akron. That is until a mysterious stranger in golden glowing Egyptian tattoos runs into her on the street. After a few colorful words and the strange man helping her carry her soon-to-be-ex to her car. She is dumbstruck when he touches her and both their hands begin to glow resulting in a strange golden luminescent tattoo identical to his appearing on her wrist. Freaked out Selena quickly thanks to the man, who now seems furious at the sudden appearance of the mark on her. Then takes off thinking she would never see him again. Only to run into the man the next day, to her surprise he claims that he is an alien from a long-forgotten race. A race that once came to earth long ago and created the humans, and a demigod race she and twelve other families are descendants of. Now she is tasked with trusting him to keep her safe as one of her mates. She has no idea if she should should trust him, but the only thing she can be sure of is she needs to survive. That means trusting him to keep her safe from the mercenaries of his race.

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They came from the sky
Chapter One “s**t!” Yup, you guessed it, I’m sitting here with my hands covered in human fecal matter. Oh, and I’d like to imagine that this moment would be better if it was my own. At least then I could come up with some temporary excuse to explain the absolute craziness of this extremely low point in my life. Like the stomach flu, some food poisoning, or hell even some rare f****d up crazy exotic virus that could cause me to end up elbows deep in human excrement and feign some pathetic strand of my dignity. Sadly, I will never be so damn lucky. No, I have coated in alcohol-infused waste of my soon-to-be ex’s now-vacated bowels. Which can only be described at this point, as hot acidic booty juice. That’s the best way to describe how my life has been up until this point a big flaming ball of s**t. I know it’s expected of me to think back on all the things that lead up to this point and realize that I somehow contributed to the demise of my self-respect and confidence by ignoring the red flags that would have steered me clear of this exact moment. But every time I did it only reminded me that I traded in some of the more care-free mildly adventurous points in my life full of hope and starry-eyed ambition. Only to be covered in the fecal excretion of my drunken lover. But hey it could always be worst, and I wouldn’t be me if I were to play it safe and not become a complete head case and dive whole-heartedly into the completely wrong relationship for me. My track record as a sucker for love wouldn’t be complete without an emotional turning point that left me with some type of mental-emotional scaring. But this one was most definitely in the hall of fame for traumatic relationships. Believe me , a lifetime supply of psychotic meds couldn’t turn this train wreck of a situation into a f*****g pile of glittery rainbow-coated unicorn fluff. If my life was a flavor, I imagine that right now it would taste like spoiled cabbage and regret. I could pretend that this kind of mess doesn’t happen to me often and I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But to be honest, I’m the living embodiment of Murphy’s law. My whole damn existence is solely set in motion based on the fact that what can go wrong will in fact, abso-f*****g-loutely go wrong. At this, particular; moment in my life it is having to drag my inebriated boyfriend out of my best friends Halloween themed costume sendoff party for her big move to the west coast to take on her dream job. All while being cursed out by captain shitty pants himself who is coincidentally dressed in a giant s**t emoji costume. I tell you I couldn’t make this mess up. Who is now in a vulgar mood all because I’m making him leave early so no one else realizes his party foul? I finally get him up and out of the bar away from everyone without too many witnesses to the event. Only to have him stumble over his self a block away from where my car is parked and turn my mildly embarrassing retreat into a full-on s**t show. But of course, it doesn’t end there, because he is far too intoxicated to regain his footing it causes me to reach down and pull him up only to get covered in his s**t. I hang my head defeatedly and slide down to the ground beside him forcing back the tears that no doubt will soon fall as he continues to rant and yell at me, and I woefully question how my life could have ever gotten so catatonic, I close my eyes defeatedly and start saying a silent prayer that I can somehow make this f****d up night finally come to an end. I retreat into the fortress of my mind as I often do these days. The sound of heavy steps echoing across the pavement pull me back to reality if not only from the fear of being discovered in this weak estate. I again try desperately to pull his now unconscious body off the ground. Of course, he chooses this exact moment to finally pass out. Just as I finally get him partially up, he drops back down to the ground with a thud and I go flying backward and collide with what feels like a brick wall or a sturdy tree. My body is suddenly catapulted toward the ground I wince bracing for impact with hard concrete. It's only after a deep velvety voice caresses my ear canals, that I open my eyes I comprehend that I haven’t hit the ground. I become increasingly aware of the warmth of huge muscular hands around my waist just below my breast. The smooth velvety warm caramel skin clung to seductive massive curves of muscle, trailing up to broad full shoulders Outlined in what appeared to be intricate golden tattoo ink in hieroglyphic patterns some I recognized like the Ankh the Egyptian representation of life on his rose gold armored gauntlets, others were completely unrecognizable to me with their intricate curves. My eyes slowly traced his tattoos the odd tribal patterns leading from his wrist up to his forearm up his biceps disappearing beneath his armor. Each new glimpse of his body sending my pulse through the roof. I could barely breathe with the way he was holding me so close to his chest. As I looked up at the face of my rescuer, I was completely dumbstruck. Not only was I covered in s**t, but of all the days I get saved, it happens to be from falling on my s**t-covered ass by a living personification of my best collective fantasies in living form. The man could only be described as, a seven-foot-tall, Adonis with seductive warm caramel-coated skin wrapped over massive planes of muscles that would make a full-blown nun sigh. I continued to size him up, I catch a glimpse of his long flowing dreadlocks dangling ever so teasingly above his pectorals covered in black and rose gold armor. Painfully preventing me from getting a glimpse of what would no doubt be the most heavenly chest I’ve witnessed on a man like this up close. My eyes climb his body further secretly caressing him with my thoughts along the way, my private viewing of his arousing form only further revealing strong broad shoulders. For some reason, I imagine straddling and ridding his face midway between seeing his thick sturdy neck and think to myself ‘well, he could handle it. And then I see his goatee lord there’s something about the sight of a man with facial hair that just makes my knees buckle. Why the f**k does he have to have a goatee to go with all this juicy man meat? I am damn near between running away and proposing when I finally see his almond-shaped eyes and the most intense honey-coated color eyes I’d ever seen. Half of his chest-length dreads were pulled back in a half ponytail, leaving the rest of his locks to rest peacefully on his shoulders. How the f**k can this be my life right now seriously. Possibly the finest man I’ve ever seen in life outside of ** male models just so happens to be walking the streets as I am just barely escaping one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. To top it all off he’s holding me like a delicate flower that he can’t wait to peel the petals from and, I am covered in the excrement of my current boyfriend. Which, I’m positive with the way he’s holding me, he’s now covered himself with. Saying a silent prayer that he doesn’t smell the evidence and realize, first off that I’m completely covered in it, second that he is now covered in it as well, third that he doesn’t think that it's of my own making, and fourth, that he doesn’t notice the large man-sized emoji turd; covered in what is no doubt the very cause of the offensive odor. I quickly pull myself free of his grasp trying to do some mild damage control before he realizes what he’s walked into exactly. The second I pull free he’s sniffing the air almost instantly. I quickly step to my left in a feeble attempt to prevent him from seeing the cause of all this mess. Which would have worked normally, had he not been a full foot taller than me. “So, thank you so much for keeping me from bashing my skull just now. A concussion was most definitely not needed right now.” I said trying to quickly distract him from coming to the inevitable realization of the situation. He immediately glanced over my shoulder at what I was trying to hide. It felt like he was a stressed-out parent who happened to stumble upon a disobedient child’s mess. Now that we weren’t standing so close; I could see he was dressed in what seemed to be an alien warrior costume made up completely of some type of rose gold armor with matching gauntlets, spartan style armor vest, and black and rose gold futuristic combat pants and boots with straps that had some cool light effects that made it look like they were glowing. He even had a mask that looked like a cross between a clear high-tech face shield that was attached to a long air tube that connected to a sleek long oddly shaped canister pack thing on his back. That I could only assume was to represent an oxygen tank for the mask. His costume was impressive. The markings on his skin from the neck down seemed to disappear beneath the costume, leading me to assume he had gone all out to have a massive gold-inked Egyptian-themed henna tattoo drawn on the entire upper half of his body not just his arms. He looked like he walked off the set of some expensive sci-fi blockbuster, but it wasn’t remotely familiar. I was infatuated with all things sci-fi and he looked like nothing I had ever seen before. As I made a personal note to do some heavy-duty research on my new potential fantasy obsession. He tilted his head eyeing me curiously like a cat cornering a mouse. I could only imagine that my now ruined Akasha costume was a wreck and god did I smell like death. My black skirt splattered on the end with s**t, a medium-size splatter pattern across my stomach waist, and chest and I didn’t even want to imagine what my hair and crown looked like. I did a quick check to make sure my metal bustier had been still securely strapped in place, only to get a smear of feces on my hand. I sighed heavily in defeat I honestly haven’t the slightest idea as to how I haven’t puked yet. “So…I like your costume,” I say continuing to make small talk which at this point has made things increasingly more awkward. He just leans his head toward the right attempting to see more clearly behind my back, allowing his hair to move slightly back from his face permitting me to see another golden inked tattoo on the left side of his neck that resembled a sideways Pisces symbol. With two arched curves and a straight line like a strange H wavy lines extending from the top half of the horoscope symbol leading up into his hairline on the back of his neck. It started to protrude a warm golden light it was like looking at a small amber starting to grow into a flame. The glowing looked just like the straps on his armor. “Wow, that’s amazing how did you get your tattoo on your neck to glow.” For some reason what I said must have shocked him because his hand shot up to his neck. He pulled his hand toward his face, from this distance it looked like the symbol had briefly transferred to his hand then disappeared. He then returned his hand to his neck as if he were covering an open wound. He quickly turned his head to face me. The look of pure shock in his eyes sent an instinctive surge of panic through me. ‘Now What?’ I thought to myself. ‘First the attack of the walking porter potty now I get to watch my fantasy guy go on a bad trip.’ “What does that mean?” a voice thick, strong, and smoother than pure silk reached out and caressed my ears. ‘Damn and I didn’t think this man could get any sexier.’ His thick baritone voice was like hearing Vin Diesel on a surround sound speaker system on repeat lord I would love to feel the vibrations from his voice echo through my body. Then I looked at those full juicy lips that delicious aphrodisiac of a voice came out of and instantly got drawn back into my fantasy of riding his face I was enthralled with the idea of his lips placing warm sloppy kisses to my drenched core as his tongue slicked through the folds of my p***y until he reached my throbbing bud flicking his tongue mercilessly across my pulsating clit and then he lets out the sexiest primal roar as that rough honey voice of his sends me over the edge he repeats his question instantly ripping me from my most intense fantasy yet. Oh yeah, I and my butterfly vibrator were undeniably going to have a good time when I got home tonight. “I’m sorry, what does? what mean?” I say as I shake my head trying to bring myself back down from my imaginary orgasm. He smirks at me slightly as he focuses his eyes on me and says questioningly. “A bad trip? What exactly does it mean to go on a bad trip?” he asks slightly amused. Immediately horrified by the fact that I was talking out loud and the dread crept through as I realized I had no idea as to how much of my little private conversation did, he hears out loud. I could kick myself right now the first extremely hot guy I meet in real life and I f*****g catch verbal diarrhea how much worse could this f*****g night get. “I’m so sorry tonight has been stressful for me and when I get stressed, I tend to talk to myself out loud. I didn’t mean to offend you it’s just that your reaction caught me a little off guard. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive. Is there something wrong with your lights from your costume?” “My costume?” he says in that same confused tone of voice. “Yeah, the glowing tattoo on your neck? You looked a little freaked out when I told you it was glowing. Which I’m assuming you weren’t expecting it to do?” He looks at me as if he’s trying to recall the reaction. Then simply responds with a nonchalant nod of his head. Realizing the conversation has taken a turn for absolute gracelessness I look at my dream guy then glance behind me to see my pitiful current nightmare and decide to say goodbye before I further disgrace myself. “So, yeah thanks again, I’m sorry about your costume. If you get it dry cleaned, I can give you my number, you can just send me the cleaning bill and I’ll send you back the money for the cleaning cost.” “So, you’ll be compensating me for what by the smell and look of things is the evidence of that man in the ironic feces costume voided bowels. Is this man your husband?” He asked me in what I assume to be his frustrated tone of voice. “Oh no, he’s my boyfriend and seems to have had a little too much to drink tonight,” I say desperately trying to downplay the situation in case he was well off. Which judging by the details of his costume he didn’t buy cheap material and props and put it together with himself as I did. So, I didn’t want to piss him off. “A boyfriend… hmm, seems fitting to call him a boy if he needs to burden a woman due to his lack of self-control.” He says glaring at my boyfriend disapprovingly. Now I’d be the first to admit that Captain crappy isn’t exactly my favorite person tonight, hell he’s barely even my favorite any other giving night. With his drinking problems, selfishness and let’s not even get started on his whole victim playing a role. But how dare this guy judge him off a passing. He doesn’t even know him well enough to hold so much disdain. For all, he knew we could have been attacked or who knows what else. “What the hell does that mean?” I exclaim extremely annoyed by the day's current events and being shamed by a stranger, no matter how sexy he may be; this little self-entitled rant is most definitely not what I need right now. He looks at me suspiciously then shakes his head and looks to the sky as if he’s searching it for the proper response to his misstep. He sighed deeply and looked at me with an equal amount of frustration that I no doubt reflected. “A man shouldn’t dare to call himself as such if he is so selfish and inconsiderate to burden his woman with the task of carrying him home, alone, late at night, while he has defecated his himself as well passing out. I was merely speaking on the accuracy of his title as your boyfriend. Due to his selfish actions being like a small boy which have led up to this point of inconvenience for yourself.” He looked at me pointedly no doubt referring to my disturbing appearance. I scowled at him defensively. Even if he was right, he still didn’t have the right to pass judgment on a person on hard times especially someone he didn’t even know personally. “Okay… I have to go thanks again.” I say turning my back on him frustratedly trying to salvage what little dignity I had left. all I could think about was how the hell I was going to pick up turd's face and break up with him tonight that wouldn’t result in a thousand drunken text messages or slurred voicemails full of threats, desperate pleas to take him back, or some f****d up combination of both. I just wanted to get home climb into a hot shower and an even hotter bath. Thank god I stuck to my guns about staying in my place I could only imagine the horror of being trapped in a relationship with no way out again. At the very least that was the best part of tonight, knowing that not only would I wake up in my bed alone but starting a new chapter free from drama. Just as I crouch down to pick up my burden for the last time a massive shadow slowly eclipses me. Before I could argue he was jerked up into the air and slung over the massive man's shoulders. Talk about s**t slinging, it was slightly hilarious watching him toss the poor man over his massive shoulders like a giant sack of potatoes and walking off with him in the direction I intended to take back to my car. I only hoped the living porter potty wouldn’t wake up at that moment because I’m positive he would feel completely emasculated. “Um…you don’t have to do that. I can carry him myself my car is only another block from here.” I pleaded in his defense. “It is fine Queen; I will not watch you further torcher yourself to tend to this sad excuse for male kind.” He responds looking at the sad sack of s**t on his shoulders with extreme discussion. “Look, I know how things look but honestly, he did just have too much to drink that’s all “ I exclaim. “I understand that he is someone you feel the need to protect, but I ask that you don’t continue to lie to me about his current condition as if it isn’t a regular occurrence. I can recognize a man with a bottle addiction at any stage. I’m only here at this exact moment because I could hear you two arguing two blocks away. The little I did hear made it clear that this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time he will end up like this.” His voice was so stern that I knew the next words if not chosen wisely could cause a huge fall out between us. And seeing as he was eliminating the literal and metaphorical load on my shoulders, covered in s**t nonetheless I didn’t want to start that fire. We walked in silence for a little while. “Hey, thanks again for all of this, I’m Selena everybody calls me Lena for short. What’s yours?” “Radames, Ra, for short.” “You mean like the prince from Puccini’s opera I mean not exactly like that but. Ok taking the foot out of my mouth let me start over. Radames huh? That’s a unique name doesn’t it mean Prince in Egyptian translation?” He stopped and turned to look at me questioningly. Good lord, I haven’t seen a man fine enough that could raise one eyebrow and make it look good with that dominant muscular form since Rock in the ’90s. If he kept looking at me like that, I was bound to make an even bigger fool of myself. “Yes, it does you Speak the language?” “Oh...No I saw your tattoos and I figured you were familiar with Egyptian culture. I was a bit obsessed with Egyptian Mythology when I was a kid. But Prince huh, that’s one convenient name since you're practically saving me-.” “Is this man not your mate?” he asked abruptly letting me know that he was not entertained by my questions. Welp this just got an awkward way to make the hot guy helping you out uncomfortable Lena. “Wow, I wasn’t hitting on you I was just trying to make small talk since you were helping me. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” I stutter both embarrassed and slightly hurt by his comment. He looked at me observantly once more before turning around and continuing to walk off. Okay, not asking any more questions about the ** Hottie. I had just made up my mind to just shut up and keep my eyes forward when he stopped short and I bumped into him. I immediately jumped back and apologized. But before I could get it out, I saw his neck tattoo glow again. “I know you don’t want to talk to me but is that normal?” I say pointing at the luminous tatt Seeming just as shocked as the first time it glowed. He reaches for it again and once more the light seems to mirror the glowing tattoo in the palm of his hand. He turns abruptly and looks at me intensely as if asking my help. Terrified by his reaction I immediately reach for the tattoo without considering the potential danger of doing so. The light seemed to grow brighter when I reached for it. He grasped my hand stopping me just short of touching it. Then looked at me with such a penetrating glare it was as if he were looking right through me this time to the pit of my soul. I attempted to pull my hand away, but he held my hand securely within his own not forceful enough to hurt me but strong enough to keep me stuck in place. It wasn’t until I looked down at my hand that I saw the glow from his tattoo on my fingertips. The light was far brighter than the tattoo on his neck and it began to grow warm on my hand glowing brighter as the heat grew stronger. It looked like a small heated star, but it wasn’t painful. I watched the golden amber of light grow and begin to grow and trace our hands and travel up the cups of our combined hands then trail outward traveling back down my wrist like liquid fire as the light continued traveling down toward my elbow I began to panic and yanked my hand away with all my force. Stumbling backward I land forcefully on my ass. “Ok, what the f**k was that? look if this is some f****d up prank for Halloween. This shits not funny.” He just stood there staring blankly at his hand shocked and confused. As if suddenly realizing I was still there he immediately dropped to his knees in front of me also dropping my worthless definite ex to the ground. He began looking me over as if I was this priceless delicate vase that fell yet miraculously survived. “Are you alright?” he asked in a feverish tone. “You mean besides your little light show scaring my ass off no not at all,” I respond sarcastically “Your ass?” he says looking a little too panicked at me sitting on the ground as he c***s his head to the side to look at my butt planted on the ground. “You did not just look at my ass!?” “Nothing else? you’re sure?” he asked ignoring my statement as he redirected his attention to my face. “Yeah, I guess why are you being all nice to me? When you were just all, is he, not your mate? Just for asking you about your name.” “It looks like you, doing just fine. Is your hand okay?” he asks seeming concerned. I glance down at my hand and to my surprise, there’s no more glowing light but on my wrist, there’s a duplicate of the tattoo on his neck there. It even had the same golden ink it was as if it glimmered from the reflection of the street lights across the ink. Although it was very beautiful, I was more concerned with how it got here. I licked the thumb of my left hand and tried feverishly to rub the ink off. I hadn’t seen him place a water tattoo on me. Plus, I hadn’t known any henna ink that could be transferred and dry seamlessly within seconds without leaving a trace. I was just about to level up my freak out when he grabbed my hand and pulled it towards himself in a desperate attempt to see what I was trying and failing miserably at removing. He took one look at the mirrored tattooed image, and his gaze immediately shot back up to my face. It was as if he finally saw me for the first time, and not just tolerating me as he had up until this point. “What is this some kind of light trick to go with the alien warrior-themed costume?” “s**t! No! no! no! no! This can’t be possible. Not now.” he said as if he was speaking to himself. “Ok, so I’m going to assume this isn’t exactly something you intended.” “No… not exactly.” He searched my eyes as if inspecting me to break out in tears.

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