Chapter 1

Aramon

I watched the proceedings on the bridge with narrowed eyes, my foot tapping impatiently against the deck. It was driving my brother crazy, tension rising rapidly in his lean frame. Tough luck; I couldn’t control my tension any more than he could control his, and the psychic circuit between us only intensified those feelings for both of us. What I needed was a good fight or a good fuck—I wasn’t picky.

Jaxin was at the weapons station, his hands hovering over the controls as he awaited the captain’s commands. I glared at those buttons as if they’d personally offended me. They hadn’t, but Jaxin was about to if he fired a shot. I wanted that fight, and space combat just wasn’t the same. Unless we were dealing with a supreme force, maybe. Some tense evasive flying would work too. I was a pilot, and by definition, pilots were adrenaline junkies. At least the kind I was.

All we could see on our viewscreen was the sleek, silver shape of a Star Class Cruiser and a small orbiting station beside a mining planet. This was no challenge for a beauty like the Varakartoom; she was a beast, and that ship was her prey. I grinned as I pictured Vara chomping down on that shiny silver tail fin, sharing the image with my brother. He rattled in his navigator's seat, grinning back with his sharp, filed-down teeth. We were on the same page now, our focus locked on the ship as we craved the possibility of a fight.

“Easy there, Aramon, Solear,” Asmoded drawled softly, a note of bite in his voice that warned me I couldn’t step out of line. I swallowed a hiss and settled down, even though I didn’t want to. The captain was right: if I didn’t get my anxious, excited tension under control, Solear was going to leap out of his chair and attack someone. That, I couldn’t allow to happen.

The captain had seen what my impatience had obscured, though I’d sensed it: there wasn’t going to be a fight. Mitnick had everything under control, like always—the fucking bastard. Although, he had made a mess of things over the past few weeks, starting with his obsession with one silly human female. It still baffled me that two males I’d always greatly admired for their cool minds had done something as irrational as finding their mate. First the captain, now Mitnick…

I tapped a fist against my armor-covered chest when a strange, heavy feeling settled there. Do you feel that too? I thought as I glanced at Solear, and I knew instantly that he did. There was a pinched look to his expression, his bony brows lowered deeply over his eye sockets, red eyes glowing like the darkest Aderian wine. He hadn’t lifted his hands from the armrests he was gripping, but I sensed his desire to claw at his chest, a desire he was barely keeping in check. I quickly dropped my own hand and gripped the yoke to help him, anything to keep my brother from harm.

All too soon, the entire bridge crew seemed to deflate on the spot; the chance of any action faded as the Star Class Cruiser turned and headed toward Kertinal-controlled space. Mitnick was communicating with us, and only the news that he was bringing refugees made my attention spike. Refugees? Maybe there would be some pretty females in need of comfort; that would scratch the itch…

I followed the curious crew to the hangar bay where our favorite hacker and his mate had landed the shuttle. Not my shuttle, but an old junker of a thing not worthy of the name. Despite my warning before he left with his mate, the bastard had gotten my shuttle blown up down on that mining planet. I was going to have to make sure he understood what a grave mistake that was—I liked my shuttles in one piece. When Solear made a muffled noise at my side, I reined in my angry thoughts. This time, my anger hadn’t riled my brother but amused him instead.

“What do you think? Pretty females, old males? Whatever Batok didn’t eat had to be pretty skinny, don’t you think?” Solear didn’t reply, but I caught a warning glare from the captain. I rolled my shoulder at him and grinned. What? It wasn’t like we were getting paid for rescuing them. He was getting all soft and polite now that he had a human female for a mate.

Mandy was with him, tucked beneath his arm, and my chest felt odd again. I liked Mandy a lot; she was brave, stood up to those around her, and, despite her diminutive size, everyone respected her. Yeah, she was a good match for Asmoded, but it still made me feel weird seeing her with him.

“Batok needed servants,” Tass muttered from behind me. “He wasn’t keeping all those people just to eat them.” The lad had a point; a crimelord like Batok, a major player in the quadrant, would have a horde of servants to run his household. He’d keep the competent ones and eat the others, because as a Hoxiam, that’s what he did. Maybe not all members of his species, but definitely him. Man-eater, devourer of flesh and souls. Look at me, getting all fanciful. I glanced at Solear to see if he’d caught that thought and sensed a hint of amusement from him.

Then, the sight of the shuttle captured my full attention, and I lamented loudly over the sorry condition of the vessel. It was absolutely no replacement for the shuttle Mitnick had lost. It was also much easier to tease my friend about the ship than admit that I'd been a bit worried about the winged male over the past few days, particularly since he'd missed our meeting point and gotten caught by the Hoxiam crimelord instead. However, everything was sorted now, so there was no need for me to dwell on it.

When my eyes caught sight of her, I didn’t know what hit me. One moment, I was pushing away my worries for Mitnick and my relief at seeing him and his human mate healthy and happy. The next, I was staring into a pair of ruby eyes, and the whole ship seemed to tilt on its axis around me. What had been up was now down, and down was up. The things I’d always known to be true about myself uprooted, like trees struck by a tornado.

Ruby eyes, silky emerald skin, and lush locks of deep moss-green hair hung like a cloak around her slender shoulders. A Xurtal female; I knew that at a glance, and yet…it was more than that. The pert little nose and the impertinent tilt to her luscious lips gave her away. I knew instantly that she would be a female with a mouth, ready to fight and to rebel.

My cock grew painfully hard, desire rushing through my veins. I wanted to conquer that female, own her, possess her. More than anything, I wanted her to own me right back; for her to claim me and let everyone know that I was worthy . That was a feeling I had never experienced before, and it shook me to my core.

Not just me, Solear was along for that ride, because I hadn’t managed to shield anything from him. He growled, fists curling, and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, readying himself for an attack. I flung out my arm and caught him across the chest before he could launch himself at her. My woman. For the first time in as long as I could remember, we were at odds. That desire for a fight roared to the surface in both of us, and the results were explosive.

***

Evie

I was in a daze as I stepped out of the shuttle and into the brightly lit hangar bay of this new ship. Theronix was at my side, limping weakly and severely diminished in size. Out of Evadne’s escort of two dozen, only the two of us had survived, and I thought that survival still remained highly debatable. This was a mercenary vessel, and I recognized the black carapace armor that each male wore in a heartbeat: mercenaries of the Varakartoom, the most notorious outfit in the entire Zeta Quadrant. Information on them had been part of the regular threat screenings I’d received as a key component of Evadne’s security detail.

Theronix was too weak to fully comprehend what was going on around him, having been starved for most of our countless weeks kept in that cold cell. I’d been fed each time I’d been forced to serve the crimelord, or sit and look pretty while he conducted meetings. That last time, I had feared I’d end up dinner for the blue-furred Hoxiam; he’d been so freaking mad. But things had taken a surprising turn when his foot soldiers escorted us to the hold.

It could be that the mercenaries had taken us so they could sell us for a tidy profit, but when I saw that there were two human women happily greeting each other, I felt the first pang of hope. Surely two women of my own species wouldn’t stand for slavery? I didn’t have much time to contemplate that because, at that moment, my eyes landed on a very loudly speaking Asrai male. Something happened when our gazes connected that I couldn’t explain.

My stomach swooped, though that could simply be hunger. The tingle lower in my abdomen couldn’t be mistaken for anything but desire. I kept a fierce lid on the emotions, the way I’d been trained by my Xurtal teachers, not allowing anything I felt to be visible on my face. However, in my chest, my heart was pounding.

This Asrai was accompanied by a twin, a common occurrence in their species. Their tall, red-skinned frames resembled Xurtal males, but that's where the similarities ended. This particular specimen was tall and muscular, his physique perfectly outlined by tightly fitting black armor. From his bulging thighs to his sculpted abdomen and heavy pecs, nothing was left to the imagination.

His face was covered with the eerie, skull-like markings that all males of their species bore. They made it appear as though he had a skull for a face, with white markings outlining his eye sockets, covering his bald head, and accentuating the sharp jut of his cheekbones and jaw. In those deep sockets, his red eyes glowed scarlet—a sight I would have once found intimidating but had long since grown accustomed to. All Xurtal had red eyes, so it had become a familiar sight. Even my own reflection in the mirror revealed a pair of red eyes, tinted by a sleek, semi-permanent pair of contacts. While I could remove them if I so desired, I had the option to wear them indefinitely, as they were virtually undetectable.

I thought I saw desire spark in that ghoulish face—for me—because there was no mistaking the direction of his gaze. It warmed me to the bone, pushing away the pervasive, strength-sapping coldness from the crimelord’s ship. The spell, however, broke when the Asrai’s twin lunged for me, and the two males suddenly clashed in a wave of unrivaled violence.

That male did not desire me; he desired Evadne. That fight should remind me to keep my distance; it was like watching two feral dogs fight over a bone. They growled, hissed, and fought with their claws as they clashed, blood spurting from cuts. They were not holding back, despite being twins—or maybe because of it. They fought to inflict maximum harm, inciting panic and fear in the hearts of all the slaves deboarding the shuttle with me. It even roused Theronix at my side, and he threw out a restraining arm in front of me, as if that would protect me.

It was the horde of mercenaries in black armor, leaping on top of the fighting pair, that brought order back to the chaos. I stared at their efficiency in breaking up fights, certain they had a lot of practice at it. In less than a minute, it was over: one male was knocked out and dragged off, the other pinned to the floor by a Rummicaron cradling a large, portable laser cannon. “Enough, Aramon!” he snapped, his growl sounding vicious. “Blazing suns! Stand down.”

The male he had pinned went from being a wild, bucking creature to lying still beneath the larger alien. Then, he twisted his gleaming white head and aimed his red, glowing eyes in my direction. My belly swooped wildly, plunging all the way to my toes; even my damn nipples tingled under his gaze. Only my years of training kept my face blank as I weathered that wave of intense feeling. So his name was Aramon? I’d need to make sure to avoid him.

“This way,” a green-skinned mercenary with leafy hair said to me, jerking my gaze away from the pinned Asrai. I allowed myself to be led further down the gangplank to where the mercenaries were performing quick medical checks and handing out jumpsuits. Theronix stumbled after me, and the green Viridara male quickly ducked beneath his arm to guide the last member of Evadne’s guard to the nearest medic.

It felt strange to be separated from him, even if it was only for as long as it took to get scanned for any contagions. I eagerly shrugged the offered jumpsuit over the remnants of my stained flight suit, then waited as the mercenaries took longer to treat the Xurtal warrior. They were very professional and objective. I wouldn’t say kind, but definitely very used to dealing with a situation like this one. That surprised me, because none of my reading material on the notorious mercenary crew had mentioned humanitarian missions.

When I resumed my place at Theronix’s side a little later so I could help him walk to the med bay, I felt eyes on me. I’d been very conscious of the Asrai’s location the entire time and made myself keep my back to him, but that gaze burned, and I twitched, glancing over my shoulder. Our eyes met, and just like before, I felt that look. It scorched like flames, marking me deep inside beneath my skin where nobody could see. It took my breath away.

He was upright, standing unrestrained beside the Rummicaron, unbothered by the bleeding scratch on his cheek or the furrows on the side of his neck. A frenetic energy surrounded him as he bounced on the toes of his black combat boots, his hands moving rapidly in the air while he talked to the larger alien.

Rummicaron looked to me like sharks on two legs, with a fin rising from their back and a head with a giant maw. They suppressed their emotions, which made them cool and detached killing machines. This one was no exception, and he was cradling a big portable laser cannon in his arms. I realized that if I had to pick whom I’d end up stuck in an elevator with, I’d take the shark, and thinking that felt oddly like betrayal.

The Asrai male, Aramon, had his eyes locked on me. Despite appearing to hold a conversation with his crewmate, his gaze never blinked or wavered. He was fixated on me. That was going to spell nothing but trouble, and it wasn’t even me he cared about. All he saw was Evadne, the carefully cultivated facade I maintained as the perfect body double for the Xurtal princess.

When I guided Theronix out of the hangar bay after the rest of the sorry, bedraggled crowd of slaves, I felt how the Asrai’s stare intensified. That red gaze had turned into a fierce glare, and I felt his anger burn even fiercer than his desire for me had. I couldn’t stop myself from looking again, and then wished I hadn’t. No, that anger wasn’t for me, he was glaring at Theronix. He was jealous.