From the Depths

by S. J. Sanders

  Falling asleep in the protective circle of his arms, Amanda knew living without him was no longer an option. Oshen was hers.

  Epilogue

  Six months had passed since the negotiations. The planet now glowed with bioluminescence, poisoned from the weapons that were used to end the war with the Grutex. A small number of them still lingered on the surface but remained hidden. New laws and regulations had been set into motion. All humans, males and females alike, were to report for mandatory blood work to test for compatibility with the Venium. Amanda wasn’t sure how they determined such a thing, but she had made it a point recently to stay out of anything involving the government.

  She was only aware of the information because her sweet sýzygos kept her updated. The gem he had retrieved from deep in the Earth’s ocean hung around her neck, signifying their mating. Oshen had told her how the jewels they gifted their mates on his homeworld glowed the color of the males’ ​fushori. Since Earth was lacking in beautifully glowing gemstones, the baltic amber pendant around her neck did just fine. Amanda in return had donned her scuba gear from Jim, searching every pinctada margaritifera she could find until she had gathered enough black pearls to adorn his braids the same way females on his homeworld did.

  They had spoken more and more about moving to his homeworld, and his mother begged for them to do so anytime they saw her over the vid comm. Amanda couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. Jun and Brin had gone missing the night she and Oshen had sealed their bond. How could she go without knowing her friend was alright?

  Amanda rested on the couch, reading from the tablet containing information on Venium anatomy that they had graciously provided her. No doubt this would answer the many questions she had about her sýzygos and the rest of his kind. She turned a page just as Oshen walked through the front door. Beside her, Hades lifted his head and meowed in excitement, his tail flicking happily. Oshen crossed the room, cupping the feline’s face in his hands, and gave his forehead a sweet kiss.

  “You’re so ferocious and handsome. I love you so much,” he cooed as Hades purred loudly.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. The love the two of them shared was enough to make her sick. Actually, she ​was ​ going to be sick. Her stomach roiled, and the blood fled from her face in an instant. The overwhelming urge to vomit dominated all her other senses, and she shot up from the couch, making straight for the bathroom. A startled Hades jumped into Oshen’s chest, nearly knocking him over. Amanda hugged the toilet seat as her stomach heaved. Oshen was there in less than a second, rubbing her back in soothing motions. His ​fushori ​ flashed, his gills spasming.

  “​Gynaíka! Are you alright?”

  Amanda waved her hand toward the counter where the small plastic test she had taken earlier in the day still sat then gagged again.

  “What is this? What do these lines mean? Are you ill?” Oshen looked almost frantic. “If it makes you feel better, I love you far more than I love that ​tigeara.”

  Amanda grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiping her mouth as she looked up at her mate. “I’m not dying, Oshen; calm down.” She gave him a weak smile. “I’m pregnant.”

  Oshen stared blankly. “Pregnant?” Amanda waited a moment before his face lit up in understanding. “You are carrying our pup?” He shouted in excitement, snagging her at the waist and spinning her around.

  “Oshen! You’re going to be wearing puke if you don’t stop!”

  Reluctantly he set her on her feet and dropped to his knees, his lips caressing Amanda’s stomach as he nuzzled his face against her. “I will be your sire, little one, and the beauty you reside in will make the best dam you could ask for.” His eyes heated as he looked up at her. “You honor me, ​gynaíka. I love you.”

  Amanda’s eyes grew misty as she looked down at her mate, her heart near bursting at the depth of affection she saw reflected back. “I love you too, Oshen.”

  “Can we cut off his ​kókoras ​ now?” ​Mouní ​ inquired.

  Oshen rolled his eyes dramatically, scooping Amanda up into his arms and heading toward the bedroom.

  “Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”

  “​Mouní!” they both groaned. Amanda was taking away her movie privileges. Right after she enjoyed her bumpy night.

  Also By Octavia Kore

  WORKS COMING SOON BY HAYLEY BENITEZ & AMANDA CRAWFORD

  Venium Mates: Ecstasy from the Deep (extended edition) Kept from the Deep Kidnapped from the Deep

  TO KEEP UPDATED VISIT OUR GROUP ON FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/groups/MatesAmongUs/

  About The Authors

  Ecstasy from the Deep ​ is our very first published work. Hayley Benitez and Amanda Crawford are cousins who write under the name Octavia Kore. Both share a love of reading and a passion for writing. They were both born in the Sunshine State (Florida). It was their dream to become authors that ultimately brought these two cousins together. They are mothers to a brood of kids, which makes the act of writing a little crazy, but in the end they always find a way. They aspire to show others to never give up on your dreams no matter how far away they seem. Both have a love for mythology and all things extraordinary. Amanda has a love for plants. Hayley has a love for gaming.

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  Opportunity’s Chase

  By: Dani Morrison

  Opportunity’s Chase

  Dani Morrison

  When Natlea Desmon encounters Yael the Swift, a bold and charming Dyriixian, in the warm waters of Silorus V, she doesn’t expect to be literally swept off of her feet. When she wakes up for the third time on the DCCC Opportunity, she must confront not only truths about her betrothed but herself. The sparks are instantaneous when Natlea is drawn into a mating game far more thrilling than she’s willing to admit. He’s staked his claim and every time she runs, he follows. Dyriixians never give up a rare find, and the Opportunity will always make chase.

  Chapter One

  She needed to swim, but her legs refused to propel her any farther, and her arms were already covered in bruises and scrapes aggravated by the magnesium salts in the ocean water. She tucked her back against the jagged, rock alcove behind her and prayed her pursuer would swim past soon. Hiding among the pelm grass was a risk. The secretions released by its stalks were known to hide the scent of blood. Prey hid among the sap-filled reeds and nipped at them for cover when wounded.

  He would know that.

  Natlea Desmon was only thirty-two and had far too much ahead of her for this ritual of rebirth and sacrifice. The whole thing had been a fluke. Most augments were not given to the Dyriixians. With traits that could not be passed down to another generation, her kind were far more useful as scavengers and laborers. That one was hunting her now...

  A shadow moved over her, and she tried to shrink impossibly smaller, anything to avoid being detected. Her skin tingled, the artificial flesh lining her arms and torso highly tuned to detect the smallest drops in pressure. She reacted too late. A school of small fish rushed her hiding nook, their bright blue bodies whipping across her face and arms with such ferocity she had no choice but to flee.

  She pushed her body up and forward, her eyes closed against the cutting tips of their fins, until she broke into the warm cradle of the coral reef where she had taken refuge during the chase. Despite her quiet surroundings, something was wrong. She saw a streak from her side, and she turned. Just another fish. But her heart raced, and the chase continued.

  She hoped.

  There was a blur of motion to her right, and she turned again just as a large arm encircled her waist, and her body was pulled taut against another form. She may have been an augment, but she was still woefully, tearfully, human. The Dyriixians were made of brine, bone, and muscle. A lot of muscle. And the one slowly pulling her to the depths had more than enough to spare.

/>   It was perfectly crafted to navigate the forbidding depths humans required scientists and engineers to survive within; she hadn’t stood a chance.

  A potent cocktail of emotions surged through her as the ocean floor approached from below, and she tilted her face toward the surface she had hoped to see again before the day was through. Fury, exhaustion, and the ghosts of their previous encounters caused a fresh wave of an unwanted emotion to rush over her, and she renewed the struggle against her captor’s iron grip.

  A gentle prick against the thin fabric of her wet suit caused Natlea to still, and the surrounding deep blue became a sea of kaleidoscopic fractals before darkness crept in from the corners of her eyes.

  Her tongue felt heavy and clung to the roof of her mouth. The skynth, the synthetic flesh through which she breathed when submerged, felt tight around her shoulders and hips, and her limbs were unbearably sore. She took in her surroundings and realized she was indoors and warm as opposed to cold or wet and, at realizing this, she scrambled into a seated position.

  Her vision swam.

  “If you’re thinking of running again, I’m sure another dose of Xirix will take it out of you.”

  Natlea froze in vain hope that she misheard and the male voice she very much recognized would disappear as quickly as her freedom had.

  “How did you find me?” she asked, her voice raw from disuse. There was no point in opening one’s mouth underwater, and she had been cooped up in that reef for days, only surfacing to eat.

  “You are augmented, but you are not made for the water,” he replied dismissively.

  She was referring to her latest hiding spot, not the small planet that was such a backwater only the most recent trade maps would have it on their radar. Then again, she had not necessarily been meticulous when she arranged for transport. She didn’t have a criminal’s sensibilities. There were always breadcrumbs.

  He kicked off of the wall and stalked toward a small console set on the other side of the room. The sleeping quarters’ dim lights brightened a fraction, and spots appeared in her vision. It was terrifying to be blinded but even more so to hear the heavy approach of boots as she struggled to regain her sight.

  She jumped when an unnaturally large, calloused hand cupped the back of her head. “Drink this. It will help dispel the sedative.”

  Cheating bastard. “You drugged me?”

  “The hunt is over. I’ve won,” he replied with a shrug. It was so nonchalant and detached she could almost believe he was entirely unaffected by being alone in close quarters again after months apart.

  He was her betrothed after all, and she had already humiliated him in front of his clan by disappearing the night of their joining ceremony. He had found her then and dragged her back. Strike one. This was strike three.

  Natlea clamped her jaw shut, but his thumb came around to press into her cheek, nudging her mouth open. A thick, sweet liquid sloshed over the cup’s rim onto her lips. Despite her initial resistance, she swallowed greedily and attempted to follow when he abruptly pulled the vessel away. Her throat was still parched, but she had the feeling he was not in the mood to be accommodating.

  He was displeased. As was she. She was still unsure about all of this, regardless of whatever taboos she had accepted or broken. Before he came along, she’d had her own life, and while it may not have been glamorous, it was far better than being forced into joining with a male she didn’t know purely because he made pursuit.

  With his back turned to her, she felt safe taking in her surroundings. Basic sleeping quarters, although she had no idea where. She hoped they were still on Silorus V. The bed was just large enough for two people, a rough metal thing that appeared to be hewed from scrap left over from the ship’s construction.

  The blankets were warm enough, and noticing their warmth made her realize that, underneath the simple coverings, she was entirely nude.

  “Glad to see you started the party without me,” she said, her eyes shooting daggers at his still turned back. Their prior encounters had always included some hint of the illicit, but this was one liberty too far.

  His dark chuckle rolled over her like an undertow, and she stilled. Perhaps to him, there was no method to her madness. The more she fought him, the tighter his grip became. Natlea was only realizing this now, and she wondered if that was what he found so damned amusing.

  “You’re a flight risk,” he said. Short and to the point. “If anything will slow you down...” His sentence trailed off, and he turned back to her, that pitch-black gaze boring through to her core. “Short of flextying you to the bed, of course, but we’re just getting started, so it may be a little early for that.”

  She clutched the blankets to her chest and squared her shoulders against the flush of lust that coursed through her at the threat. He ripped the simple black shirt he wore off of his body and hurled it across the room to join other items that had shared a similar fate.

  Natlea tensed. He had never removed clothing in front of her before, and seeing the expanse of deep blue tinged with gray was a shock to her system.

  Dyriixians possessed ridges along their sternums, but she had never seen them up close and personal. They fanned out in hypnotic waves that began at his shoulders before disappearing into the waistband of his pants.

  He possessed six or seven vindril. Long, flesh-covered, tail-like structures that grew from his scalp and hung down his chest and back. They were thick and adorned with gold rings she couldn’t recall the significance of. He rolled his head around his shoulders as though preparing for battle, and she guessed—in a way—he was.

  “Well, let’s get a look at you,” he said, and his approach couldn’t have been more terrifying if he tried.

  She attempted to hold onto the remaining shreds of her modesty when he gripped the blankets and gave them a firm yank. Years spent in mining operations for Anaxas Corp had given her a bit more upper body strength than the average augment, but she was no match for him. The blanket came away as though she had put up no resistance at all.

  “There.” He smiled. “Much better.”

  “Yael—”

  “So, we’re using first names now.” He leaned forward, wrapping a hand around her ankle to drag her to the foot of the bed. “You refused to address me for months.”

  She slotted effortlessly against him, the width of his hips and thighs encased between her own. With nothing to shield her, she did the only thing she could think of. She swung out and was rewarded for her efforts with a tight grip pinning the offending wrist to the bed. Her body intimately pressed against his, and she instantly stilled.

  In her momentary panic, she had forgotten about her unclothed state, and her effect on him was evident in the growing mass pressed between her legs. She had never experienced that up close and personal, either. Natlea was no blushing virgin, but all of her lovers had been human, or humanoid enough. This felt like nothing she had ever seen and, as always, the dark blossom of want unfurled as they began this dance again.

  She experimentally rocked her hips, the motion eliciting strangled sounds from both of them. Adrenaline pumped through her veins when he reared back and looked down at her. Without the eye structures humans possessed, he was often as unreadable to her as any alien language.

  Those large, black eyes narrowed infinitesimally before he spoke. “Are you ready to concede, Natlea?”

  She would never admit it, even if she was. “No.”

  She thrust her chin into the air, but her defiance lost some of its heat when he repeated her action against her, his now fully engorged shaft only separated from her by the thick fabric of his pants. She may not have wanted to marry him, but she could fully appreciate a prime male specimen when one was presented to her.

  She was already aroused and on edge, angry at him for starting this game and herself for continuing it.

  Under different circumstances, perhaps she and Yael could have been a normal couple. A little fling to tide over the monsoon months, when the waters we
re too choppy to survey and the Dyriixian’s strange gods required their domain remain undisturbed.

  His skin was cool against hers when his hand gripped the column of her throat, and he pressed a single finger into her pulse point.

  “Try again.”

  The timber of his voice, a soft warning accompanied by the slow stroking of her skin with his thumb threatened to immolate her from the inside out. They had never gone this far, but now that they were here, she refused to give him the upper hand.

  She licked her lips and arched against him, challenging him to see who would stop first. “If you’re going to fuck me, Yael, get it over with.”

  She had no idea where this bravery came from, but she instantly wished to tuck it back into whichever bottle she had uncorked and it hurl into the center of a galaxy. Preferably one far away from the one she was in now.

  He groaned, and the sound vibrated through his chest to her own, causing her nipples to peak against the rippled plane of his chest. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated as he reached between them to remove himself from his pants. Unlike a human, where the organ would have been hot against her flesh, it was as cool as the rest of him when he rubbed the slightly tapered tip against her entrance.

  Natlea gasped as he slid against her, the slick of his precum combining with the evidence of her own arousal to create an easy path for his entry. The bundle of nerves between her legs came alive, and she clutched his arms. She moaned, pressing her breasts against him in a subconscious desire to satiate the ever-growing tension between her legs.