Chapter 1

Thar’oc

The dim interior of the bar was thick with smoke, the smell of many unwashed bodies, and spilled beer. It was a scent that was as familiar as the scent of my quarters aboard the Varakartoom, which I often shared with three other males in rotating shifts of two. Honestly, Rikon’s dive might be an improvement over dealing with my bunkmate’s stinking socks.

I followed my crew mates further into the bar, hanging back because I wasn’t into the private gambling games that went on in the backroom. Rikon, the owner of the bar, was an older Pretorian male with a shockingly protruding belly; an extreme rarity to see in his species. With four arms, he was an expert bartender, but the cloth he was holding was for show, not to wipe up any stickiness that clung to the wood.

“Ah, Rikon. My friend!” Aramon exclaimed boisterously, while slapping his gloved hand down on the dirty surface without hesitation. “Serve us your finest ale, please.” The vocal Asrai of the two grinned over his shoulder at his silent twin, sharing a joke I wasn’t in on. Likely, it had to do with the quality of Rikon’s ale. There was no finest, there was just the watered-down stuff from the tap. It was soothing to a parched throat, so it would do.

The red skin of the Pretorion was a little washed out even in the bad lighting, but his mood freckles were easy to read. He was excited about something, which meant high rollers were about to hit his tables. I sucked in my bottom lip as I contemplated that. It wasn’t going to just be beers; Aramon wouldn’t be able to resist.

My boots creaked when I shuffled through the sawdust to the nearest semi-clean table and parked my ass. That last job on the Varakartoom had been exhausting. I hated stakeouts, and I hated sitting still. Both of which were terrible traits for a sharpshooter to have, but there you had it. I was a fidgeter. Case in point, as soon as I was sitting I started jiggling my leg. Restless energy coursed through me.

“What the fuck is up with you today?” Jaxin demanded. The Rummicaron Weapon Master’s voice rumbled from his deep gray chest. He had rows upon rows of sharp teeth shaped like hooked triangles, that he displayed to me with an annoyed grin. Despite the danger, I was always tempted to stick my fingers in there.

I shrugged and grabbed the beer the bartender was plopping with a slosh down in front of me. I threw it back in a few big gulps and still, my leg jangled and my tail twitched rapidly behind my back. I had no clue. I wasn’t normally this fidgety; this was extra.

The quiet Asrai twin sat on my other side, which made even my tough Kertinal skin feel a bit exposed. Solear had his teeth filed to needle-sharp points, and though he rarely spoke, whenever he opened his mouth, it was extremely feral and scary-looking. He one-upped Jaxin, whose friendly, outgoing demeanor, and love for his mini laser cannon named Bex, made him approachable.

“He needs to get laid,” Aramon remarked, elbowing his feral, quiet twin in the side with a snicker. I bared my teeth, a growl rumbling out. Lowering my head, I briefly aimed my horns at his damn face, which he knew was extremely rude in Kertinal society.

I was no good at quick comebacks and while I scrambled for a good one, my senses got abruptly derailed when a sweet scent filled the air. It overpowered all the nasty smells from Rikon’s not-so-law-abiding patronage. Yanking my head up, my horns nearly tangled in the light hanging above the table. Where was it coming from? Did anyone else smell that?

The door to the bar swung open and in strutted one of those smarmy assholes in fancy clothes that dared to slum it with a bodyguard at their back. Yengar Station got a dozen of them at the time, but in the huge crowd, and the millions of shady bars to pick from, they were usually easy to avoid. What bad luck that the pampered idiot selected Aramon’s favorite hangout for his little adventure.

This particular snob was an Asrai just like Aramon too, he wasn’t going to like that, and Solear even less. The two didn’t do well with any authority figures, except the Captain. I was predicting the chances of a fight at least 80 percent.

So I sized up the bodyguard at the male’s side to see if it was going to be any fun or not. A Rhico the size of a barn, thick gray skin, a single horn on his sharply protruding maw, and small beady eyes. Tough one, but I was willing to bet I could take him out with a single blow. Rhico’s were fucking slow but once they got moving, they were like an avalanche. Best to head that off right at the start. I grinned; now that was a fun challenge.

Then I finally discovered the source of the scent and it made my heart leap in my chest, my stomach lurching madly along with it, threatening for one horrible second to make me upchuck my first beer. That was embarrassing, a mercenary who couldn’t hold his damn liquor; I’d be the laughingstock on the ship. The Captain would never hire me again.

The thoughts were fleeting, my focus drawn entirely to the slender, small figure that was dragged into the bar after the pompous rich guy. A human female. Her hair was a flighty, soft cloud of curls around her dainty features, her skin so very, very pale next to mine. Even with the bodyguard’s giant body half blocking my view, I knew she was a curvy handful, dressed in a skintight body suit that left nothing to the imagination.

The slumming Asrai noble had fastened a collar of silver and blinking lights around her throat, with a leash draping from it to his hand. A slave, a sex slave most likely, considering her species and her sexy getup. I hadn’t even realized I was already on my feet, a deep growl rumbling in sub-harmonics from my chest. It was Jaxin’s firm grip on my arm that brought me to my senses a little.

“Fuck, she’s hot,” Aramon declared, and I wanted to slam his head into the table. That was not an uncommon thought to have of the ace pilot, but in this case, it was extreme and it was quick and violent. I would have done it too if not for the Weapon Master’s grip tightening like a vice around my elbow, his blunt, thick fingers digging into the joint at precise pressure points. I should be in terrible pain from that. I should be fighting his grip, but I wasn’t, I could barely feel it at all. My eyes had fixated entirely on the female across the room.

For once, it seemed that Aramon realized something was going on that was bigger than his inane prattling and lame jokes. “Now hang on Thar’oc, you can’t seriously be thinking of saving her? I know they say humans make wonderful mates, but come on! This is my favorite bar. Don’t mess it up!”

I snapped my head around to glare at the idiot, finally breaking my intense staring. Staring that hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed, people tended to look wary when a nearly seven-foot-tall Kertinal started growling. One with notches in his horns? Extra wide berth.

“I. DON’T. CARE,” I snarled in his face, ducking so my words were delivered up close and personal. It made Solear, the silent twin, rattle in his chair, his muscles growing tense and his eyes flashing. Fighting both of them would be hard, but as agitated as I was, I was ready to take them on.

“Look, you know the Captain’s policy. No mated pairs on the ship!” Aramon defended. He raised his hands casually in a supposed kind of surrender, not that I was fooled for even a minute. That was indeed a policy, but it was more surprising that Aramon had gone from ‘Ah-she’s-hot’ to ‘Thar’oc-wants-a-mate’ in a matter of seconds.

I slammed my ass back into my seat because the thought of a mate was sobering, even if the big, scared eyes of the female seemed to pull my heart right out of my chest. The words that tumbled from my mouth came out completely unfiltered, “I just finished the last job. The Captain’s rules can go screw themselves. I’m only a passenger to Strewn. Remember?”

Aramon’s eyes turned flinty as if I’d personally insulted him when I disrespected the Captain’s rules. It was Jaxin who tactfully intervened before the Asrai twins leaped across the table to pummel me until I apologized, which would be never. “Look, I know it sucks that she’s a slave, but we can’t save them all. You know that. Just let it be.”

Let it be my ass. That female was mine, and I was walking out of here with her, no matter what.