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2. Holoth

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Holoth

" Y ou're welcome!"

Sloane comes swaggering into the navigation pit with a bright smile and a concerning glint in her eyes. The nav pit is silent before her announcement, and her enthusiasm startles Phial awake. His feathers stand up from the top of his head, down his back, and disappear under his shirt.

I've seen many facial expressions on Sloane in the past few weeks since she joined the crew as Jovi and Alik's pleasure crew before turning into permanent crew because we all like her so much. That's how I know that whatever she's expecting thanks for may or may not be something I want to thank her for. She's scheming, but there's no way to tell if it's good or bad until she admits to it.

"What am I thanking you for?" Phial asks.

He works to smooth down the feathers on his head. The feathers have a mind of their own and love sticking up any time Phial's embarrassed or startled. He says he looks like a fool when they're upright and will incessantly smooth them down anytime he thinks they aren't lying flat against his scales.

He was asleep in his chair, taking one of his many naps. Ever since we intercepted a human smuggling ship and brought their cargo onboard, Phial's been sleeping like shit. He watches over Avery, the human we stole from the smugglers, every single moment of every single day. Except for when she showers. Then he comes to hang out with me in the nav pit.

Avery can't understand any of us since the smugglers removed her translator, but that doesn't stop Phial from being near her. The only reason he's down here with me right now is that Avery's showering, and she takes at least an hour since she has issues with seeing how her body was modified and the collar she still wears. I try not to bother him when he's here so he can rest his eyes for a few extra minutes.

"Not you," Sloane says, waving away Phial's curiosity.

His scales shimmer softly like he's about to change colors or camouflage. Instead, they darken back into their deep navy color. Now that he knows Sloane doesn't want him, he presses his head against the back of his chair, eyes closing again.

I tilt my head toward the door, and Sloane picks up my message. There's a good chance Phial can find more sleep before he heads back to his room to watch over Avery. We both want that for him, so we talk in the hall.

I lean against the wall when the navigation pit doors close behind us. My arms are tight over my chest, and I try to force my eyes from falling down Sloane's body.

I don't want her in that kind of way, at least not since she told Phial and me she wasn't going to service us when she joined the crew as Jovi and Alik's pleasure crew. My rut is close, though, and it has me doing things I usually wouldn't. Mostly, I check Sloane out like she's a female I might be able to entice into my nest.

Nothing reminds me just how different I dress than when I'm standing across from one of the other crew, and our differences are made abundantly clear. In all fairness, none of us dress like Sloane, just like it used to be that none of them dressed like me.

My leather pants were handmade by my mother, the same as all my other pants. I rarely wear shirts since my blood runs cooler than the others on the ship. Not by much, but even a few degrees can make it feel like I'm sweating.

I keep a fur thrown over my shoulders most of the time. Not for any reason other than it's how the males I grew up dressed. It's always good to have a fur in case a female is cold or needs something soft to comfort her. I've never had the opportunity to offer my services to a female, but it's good to be prepared.

I thought maybe I could help make Avery feel safe since she was experimented on to fit into the role females of my kind are expected to fill. The only time I've seen her since we rescued her, she screamed and hid behind Phial while he tried his best not to hiss at me to get out.

He explained to me afterward it was that I look like the male who experimented on her, who tortured her. That was the day I shaved my beard and began to braid my hair back. If we were on my planet, I'd be getting grief for it, but I'm not there. If there's a chance it'll make my friend's friend less scared of me, I'll do it.

"What's up?" I ask Sloane when it's clear she won't tell me what she wants to tell me unless I ask.

"Your braiding's gotten better," she remarks. "You haven't asked me to do it in almost a week."

I frown down at her, my arms flexing slightly as I stand a little taller. I'm trying to entice her into my bed. I know I'm doing it. She knows I'm doing it. We've both agreed to ignore it. I'm close to a rut, and we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere space while we wait for the Intergalactic Alliance to tell us what to do with Avery.

We've been told the Intergalactic Alliance won't force another planet to offer Avery aid. We don't have the technology on our ship to reimplant her translator or get the slave collar off of her.

Since the Intergalactic Alliance can't help, we have to go through other channels to find a planet willing to help us. Most of them only want to offer their services if Avery goes through a mating or marriage ceremony with one of their citizens. It's been a frustrating time, to say the least.

It only got worse a few days ago when I started feeling the restlessness of a rut and started preening in front of Sloane as though she were a viable option to warm my nest.

"I'm not exactly incompetent at doing my hair," I say with a frown.

Sure, most of the time, I keep it down, maybe tied into a bun on top of my head, but that's not an option any longer. Not if I don't want to scare Avery the next time she's willing to step foot outside of Phial's room.

"It was a compliment." Sloane shakes her head and then moves on to what she was talking about before we came out here. "I think I have a solution to your problem."

"My problem?"

"You know…" She leans in closer and lowers her voice to a whisper. "Your rut."

I growl low in my throat. It's not a menacing sound—quite the opposite, which has me cringing. Thankfully, Sloane's a good friend and knows that many of my reactions to her right now are solely because of my biology and not actual feelings on my end.

Gods, if they were, Jovi and Alik would tear me limb from limb and then throw me out the airlock. They're protective of their bonded female, and I don't blame them one bit. If I had a scent match, I'd never let her leave my sight or away from my touch.

"What solution could you possibly have?" I ask through gritted teeth.

It's not that I don't appreciate her offer of aid, but I don't think she understands that the only thing that's going to make this any better is a female that I can sink into and sate all of this lust on.

Well, that or being put into a coma. It's what I've done every time I've had a rut since leaving my planet, but that isn't a viable option when I can't get to a medical clinic.

Essa, our medic, has resources for plenty of conditions, but there's no way she can keep me under for anywhere long enough for the rut to wear off. Usually, when this happens, I'm gone from the crew for at least three days.

"I got a female for you." Sloane arches a brow and waits for my reaction.

It's almost instantaneous how quickly I begin purring. It's not a sound I let out very often. None of the crew would care if I did, but anytime I've gotten close to purring, I force it back down. It's embarrassing to purr for my friends when I don't have a female to offer the same sound. But when I'm this happy and relieved, the sound is involuntary.

"Who? How?" The questions are out before I can stop them.

There's no way Sloane could get me a female compatible with my species. Rytharian females don't sign up to be pleasure crew members since they're much too focused on finding a male to settle down and breed with.

My kind has evolved over millenniums to be the best at birthing as many young as quickly as possible. However, it also means we're only able to breed with our own species or species that are compatible if they've had their reproductive organs altered. I doubt whoever Sloane found will be of any help with my situation.

"Look, it's technically not very legal, or at least Via told me it's not, so we have to be a little hush-hush about it." Sloane keeps her voice low as she speaks.

It's at this moment that I realize her mates might not even know that she's come to see me. That could be bad news for me, depending on their moods and when they were last inside their mate.

"Who's Via?" I ask, as though that's the most important part about what Sloane said.

"The Straxion who helped me with my pleasure crew paperwork," Sloane says in a tone that tells me this is supposed to be information I somehow already know. When I blink one long, exasperated blink, Sloane sighs and adds more. "Don't tell anyone, but she might also do some illegal things to help women looking for help in certain situations."

My voice is hard when I ask, "Are we kidnapping a female?"

There are plenty of things I can let slide, but we just rescued a kidnapped human woman who was meant to be sent off to act as a sexual slave on another planet.

"K'Vella is voluntarily coming onto this ship." Sloane glares at me like she can't believe I'd ask her about the willingness of the female she's bringing on to help me with my rut. Her glare only lasts a second before a more sheepish look takes its place. "There may be something she needs from you, though."

"K'Vella isn't a Rytharian name," I say, pressing my lips into a tight line. I don't know what species the name hails from, but I know for certain it's not from my species. "What could she need from me?"

"She's not Rytharian." Sloane bites her lip before convincing herself to continue. "She needs someone to impregnate her."

I swallow another purr because I can't let Sloane know I have no problems with that at all. I should, and if my rut wasn't so close, maybe I would. But it's hard-wired into Rytharians to procreate. It's why we go through heats and ruts and have large families. There's nothing that calls to my base instincts quite like being asked to impregnate a female.

I'm about to ask more questions when the door to the navigation pit slides open. Phial's standing there, holding his blaster and feathers high on his head and lifting against the fabric of his shirt all the way down his back.

"Are we expecting guests?" he asks, waving the blaster toward the airlock, where another ship has just appeared out of nowhere, close enough to dock with us.

"Sloane?" I bark her name in question as I move toward the ship's controls. I move over to our comm transmitter and scan for any open channels. When I find one, I click on it. "This is Holoth Lossblonthrow of the Jolly Folly. Who's attempting to board our ship?"

A response comes in almost immediately. "Stupid name for a ship!" Someone in the background, away from the comm transmitter, calls out before a grunt sounds, probably the same male being hit. He's not wrong, but I wasn't around when the ship was named, and I'm not about to tell Essa that her naming skills are awful.

"This is Ixor Scorlandasa of Fortune's Favor. You should know my sister Via." The male who speaks through the comm sounds much more respectful than the male who called our ship name dumb. "We're requesting to board your ship. The female we gave passage to didn't take to the jump very well. Do you have a medic?"

"I'm comming Essa, now," Sloane says, her eyes going wide as she pulls her comm out and starts typing on it.

"We're alerting her now," I say into the comm. I try to tell my heart that it doesn't need to attempt to come out of my chest right this instant. The growl in my throat is less willing to cooperate. "Initiating docking."

"Heard," Ixor responds with one word, and I see his airlock starting to move along with ours. That's where our communication ends.

I move toward the airlock, my hand on my blaster as I wait for the connection. I won't feel safe until I see these males for myself. Even then, I kind of want to tell Sloane how foolish all of this was. She's trusting near-strangers because someone she kind of knows told her she could help with my rut.

It's ridiculous, and I would be more upset if not for the fact that I know Sloane's only doing it because she cares so much for everyone on this ship. Apparently, that includes caring about me getting a female to sate my desire with during my rut.

Phial seems just as restless as me. He at least returns his blaster to its holster instead of holding it. The airlock clicks into place, and then we wait a few more moments to ensure the air's pressurized on both sides.

When the door finally clicks open, Essa comes barging into the nav pit. Her hair's a mess, and her horns are still wrapped up like she was taking a nap on the couch. Sloane helps her with the covering as the airlock swings open and reveals our guests. The four males are covered in glittering jewelry, making it clear exactly what they are without using too much brain power.

"Fucking pirates, Sloane," I growl at her without taking my eyes off the male standing in front of the others. He keeps his hands on his blasters as he takes in the scene they just entered.

"Space pirates?" Sloane gasps as she tries to run over to get a better look. Essa wraps a hand around her bicep and her tail around her ankle to keep Sloane from getting too close.

The male up front frowns at the accusation before responding to Sloane. "We prefer time pirates."

There's a snort of laughter behind him before a younger male steps around him and enters our ship. He doesn't seem to care about the tension surrounding us as we try to make sure none of us are enemies. I growl low in my throat as the younger male walks over to me.

"Careful, Kor," Ixor calls out to the younger male.

"I heard you got someone with a slave collar here?" Kor asks, looking around the room and then back at me when he doesn't see any of us with collars. He shifts the pack on his back and gives me an expectant look. "You want it off her, or is she getting used to it?"

Phial's teeth snap hard as he bares them in the other male's direction. Kor smiles and moves over to Phial. "You the one I need to talk to? Show me to her." He shifts his pack again, this time grabbing some of his chains around his neck and pulling them to the side, revealing his own scars from a slave collar. "I'll make sure she's not in physical pain anymore. Up to you for the rest of it."

Phial turns his gaze to me, a soft, imploring look. I give him a nod, letting him know it's probably safe. And if it's not, Phial's good with a blaster.

As he shows Kor out of the navigation pit, Jovi and Alik finally make themselves present. Neither one of them seems to understand what's going on, so it doesn't surprise me when they push Sloane behind them and pull their blasters.

"We have a common friend," Ixor says, holding his hands up in a sign that he's not a threat. His rings glitter in the light, making it seem even more ridiculous how far we've strayed from our initial mission of stopping a smuggler. Now, we're practically working with a different kind. "Our sister said you had a problem, and it just so happens one of her friends has the solution."

At his words, another male steps up with an unconscious Varon in his arms. Her white hair spills down from the top of her head, adorned with beads and small braids that remind me of the styles some females wore in my clan. Two of her pale lavender arms are tucked up against her side, and two hang limply toward the floor as the male brings her further into the ship.

It's my turn to snap my teeth. I grab the female and hoist her into my arms before a low purr rumbles in my chest.

"Sloane." I give her a worried expression. "I think your friend might've misled you."

Ixor might not like his sister being called a liar, but there's not much I can do about that.

Varons and Rytharians are not compatible. I can't think of a species that could be less compatible with me. Not only does her anatomy cause her only to conceive after climaxing, but she'll seal up tight to keep her partner's seed deep inside her. There's no way she can help me out with a rut if she's only able to have intercourse once every five or so days. Not to mention, if I knot her, I'll be causing her immeasurable pain as her body tries to seal up after we finish.

"Essa," I call after her and don't wait for her response as I head out of the navigation pit toward our small med bay.

Essa's quick to out-pace me and get everything set up in her little medical alcove. I lay the female on the bed and sit on my heels while I wait for Essa to check on her. Whatever else the males want, they can deal with Sloane and her mates for it. Even if I wanted to move away from K'Vella, I don't know if I could.

Something inside me, something I haven't felt before, is telling me that right here is where I'm meant to be. The purring never ceases, and for once, I'm not embarrassed by the sound rumbling in my chest.

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