Delta Moon
Page 1
Delta Moon
by Iris Sword
OTHER BOOKS BY IRIS SWORD
The Delta Rangers Trilogy
Delta Moon (Delta Rangers, #1)
Delta Star (Delta Rangers, #2)
Delta Rangers (Delta Rangers, #3)
BOOKS BY OLYMPIA QUEEN
Immortal Coven
Wicked Possession
The Radium Raiders Series
CHAMPION (Radium Raiders, #1)
OUTLAW (Radium Raiders, #2)
LONESTAR (Radium Raiders, #3)
BISHOP (Radium Raiders, #4)
SAINT (Radium Raiders, #5)
RADIUM RAIDERS: The Complete Series
BOOKS BY ODYSSEY ROSE
Divination
The Unconquered Stars Trilogy
VALOR (Unconquered Stars, #1)
ROGUE TREASURE (An Unconquered Stars Novella)
HONOR (Unconquered Stars, #2)
BOOKS BY ZELDA KNIGHT
Bronze Moon
The Grimoire Chronicles
Zephyr’s Curse (A Grimoire Chronicles Novelette)
Scale of Justice (The Grimoire Chronicles, #1)
Flame of Truth (The Grimoire Chronicles, #2)
Wings of Glory (The Grimoire Chronicles, #3)
WARNING
Delta Moon is an erotic mpreg ménage à trois alien romance novella (10,000 words total). It features two alien men and one cybernetic human man with light bondage and domination. This ebook is for mature audiences only.
SYNOPSIS
Space Rangers Xa’baar Ilaura and Haltrax Vuron, of the ice planet Deltrax, are tired of policing the universe. They’ve spent years roaming the stars searching for adventure. Now, near the end of their last prime, the Rangers are desperate to find a lover.
Xa’baar swore he’d never sign up for an intergalactic mate. Haltrax is wary of expanding their union. On Tieqiú 9, indentured miner Victorio Chu is searching for an escape route. Sparks fly and tensions simmer, as Xa’baar, Haltrax, and Victorio come together during a harsh Deltraxan winter.
Delta Moon is an erotic mpreg ménage à trois alien romance novella.
Delta Moon
© 2019 Iris Sword
www.irissword.com
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format whatsoever without written consent from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are the products of imagination. A resemblance to the aforementioned is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to the aforementioned is the result of Orbital Dysfunctional Syndrome (ODS) exhibited by Iris Sword.
e-ISBN: 978-1-946024-97-8
First Edition: October 2019
Cover design by Perie Wolford
For my Starstruck Wanderers longing to be loved
XA’BAAR
Deltrax, Sector VX19
Space Ranger Headquarters
As Space Ranger Xa’baar Ilaura admired the holographic display of his fated mate, his hearts soared against his broad chest. Etched into the plasma surrounding the glass was his name, Victorio, the Victorious One. The foriegn name rolled awkwardly from his lips, so Xa’baar preferred to call his future lover by his title, Belima’ar, the Beloved. Belima’ar was a perfect picture of paradise frozen in time. His small, lithe body was just the right size, with a button nose and a coy smile accentuating his soft features. Wispy dark brown curls fell past his dainty ears, and his honey brown skin practically glowed. Xa’baar didn’t want to purchase a lover; he would’ve preferred to court Belima’ar in the traditional manner. But, as fate would have it, across the galaxy the perfect mate was waiting for him...and his lover. How could Xa’baar pass up the opportunity to unite the trio?
"Is that Vic’tor?" Xa’baar’s fellow Space Ranger Haltrax Vuron entered the command room. Xa’baar did his best to ignore the death glare Haltrax was leveling at the back of his head. He turned briskly, flashing a false smile at his temperamental mate.
"Yes. He will arrive before the stars align, right in time for our prime and the festivities." Xa’baar noticed that Haltrax’s standard issue white jumpsuit hugged his muscular body more than usual. The warrior had been training, no doubt because Belima’ar was coming, and the Deltraxan mating season was mere lunar’s away. Xa’baar took a moment to admire his lover, letting the dull chrome interior of the rural ranger station fade away. Haltrax’s shaved black hair paired nicely with his high cheekbones and black skin. His dark brown brooding eyes lured Xa’baar into his arms over a decade ago. Though, in that moment, Xa’baar wished Haltrax would glare at anything or anyone but him.
If only he used the muscle in-between his ears more often, Xa’baar thought woefully as Haltrax’s green lips turned down in a frown.
"...Must we bring the offworlder into our union? It is a male, correct? Can males of his species even give birth?" Haltrax asked.
"Not this again! You were elated anyone would be willing to make the journey to our corner of the galaxy when Vic’tor responded to our ad. You grew fond of him when we only knew him as "V," and had to pay for every single correspondence with him. Now, you know his name, you’ve seen his handsome face. He is willing to come, and our union has more than enough room to welcome him. He is on his way as we speak! But now you choose to reject him? Why?" Xa’baar snapped, not in the mood for Haltrax’s close-mindedness. Belima’ar’s genetic profile confirmed what the men had already felt when they laid eyes on his matchmaking profile. They were meant to be together, and he was fertile according to the records sent over. If they let this upcoming prime past without bringing forth a child, they risked a fruitless union. And, on the unforgiving ice giant of Deltrax, the central government would not forgive them. They would be torn apart, resorted into new unions, withering away as their souls cried out for one another. Victorio was the answer to all of their prayers.
So why, Xa’baar wondered, Why is Haltrax so resistant?
"...What is it like on Tieqiú 9? Do you truly believe this," Haltrax motioned towards the holograph, "...huemon can survive?"
"Warm, at least that’s the impression I got from his last correspondence. And, you know just as well as I do, it is our responsibility that Vic’tor not only survive but thrive here on Deltrax," Xa’baar rebutted.
Deltrax was inhospitable, an ice giant ravaged by brutal winter storms all sol long. However, he and Haltrax were of some means. The people of Deltrax practiced communal living, but as Space Rangers designated to patrol the nearby galaxies, they received a sizable stipend from the Galactic Confederation. They could lavish their mate with furs, and travel to warmer planets if need be in the dead of winter. It was only during the festival season that they had to return, when their prime was upon them, and the mating urge strong.
"What of his temperament? Have you ever heard his voice?" Xa’baar knew there were more questions waiting to spill from his mate’s impatient lips.
"Sweet and mild-mannered, according to the...mayvruen. I have not heard his voice, but I expect it to be just as pleasant as his face." In all truth, the matchmaker was little more than a dealer, selling lonely hearts dreams instead of bodies. Still, Xa’baar wasn’t going to budge. Belima’ar was joining their union no matter what.
"...What if the records are lying? The mayvruen could be a fraud! We will have wasted what could be our last prime on an unknown. Please, reconsider, Xa’baar’Zaydon! We can find another, one of our own kind. The money means nothing; our future together means everything!" And just like that, the truth finally came out. Xa’baar went rigid, stunned by Haltrax’s unexpected vulnerability.
"...We will figure it out when the time comes." Xa’baar whispered, turning his face towards the glass floor.
"He is willing! And that is that," Xa’baar shouted, cutting Haltrax off.
"And I am not! This is a mistake that has gone on too long, fated! You’ve put your trust into the wrong hands; do not blame me when this all blows up in your face." Haltrax spat back, turning on his heels as he stormed out of the command room. The large double doors separating the room from the hallway slammed shut, and Xa’baar was left alone with his own thoughts.
A bright purple mist, Xa’baar’s corona, surrounded his body. It was distressed, jagged, nothing like the soothing aura that usually enveloped the ranger. In a way, Haltrax was right. The mayvruen could have lied. Belima’ar could be misrepresenting himself. But what choice did that have? They’d already tried and failed many times to mate one of their own kind to produce a child. Xa’baar placed his hand right below his stomach. His womb was dying or already dead. With the population dwindling at an unprecedented rate, it was already common to see unions of five or more amongst the tribes of Deltrax. He and Haltrax had unionized out of necessity as much as they did out of love. Intertribal unions were the only ones that bore fruit anymore, and there’s had failed. This prime could very well be their last shot. True, if their new mate didn’t produce, Xa’baar and Haltrax could enter the dreaded barren years where their seed dried up and coronas waned. Torn apart by the laws of their land, loneliness would eat away at their spirits, absorbed into the periphery of an oversized union. As the old saying went, a heart can love endlessly, but the body grows weak. Regardless of all the unknowns, Xa’baar refused to let his aspirations be ground into dust by Haltrax’s negativity. He’d fought for years to keep their union together, hoping against all reason.
"They won’t separate us...not without a fight." Xa’baar turned back around so he could look up at the holograph once more. In Belima’ar, Xa’baar longed for a mate, a companion, and if he dared to say it, a new friend. But he would take what he could get, as long as he produced an heir.
Hurry, Belima’ar, we are waiting for you, and we need you now more than ever before.
VICTORIO
Deep Space, Sector VX19
Transgalatic Transporter Engine Room EX-88B
"Fuck this shit!" Victorio moaned, heaving a heavy slab of synthetic meteorite onto a floating conveyor belt. His load traveled down the belt and into a black hole where it would be incinerated to fuel the spaceship’s nuclear core. A bell chimed somewhere out of sight soon after. Thank the gods, it's time for a break, Victorio cheered, mentally and physically exhausted. Sighing, he wiped off the jet black dust covering his face and clothing, crouching down in his 6x8 prison cell masquerading as a workstation. Did I make the right decision? he mused in between hearty gulps of sanitized water.
"109345!" A guard shouted Victorio’s serial number, his ticket out of hell.
When he didn’t respond fast enough, the guard shouted even louder, "Get back to work!"
"I—" He started to argue, but was cut off by a siren blaring overhead. Victorio miscalculated and his one minute break had come and gone in a flash.
"...Yes, sir," Victorio grunted, gritting his teeth to hold back a string of curses. His body still remembered the beating he got the last time he mouthed off. Victorio tried and failed to convince himself that he’d made the right decision to avoid another ass-whooping. There was no point in arriving on Deltrax pissed off and bloody. Victorio figured his husband-to-be, X, wouldn’t be pleased to have his property damaged on arrival.
Shaking his head, Victorio slipped his goggles back on, tugged up his gloves, and started hauling more fuel onto the belt. His job was an endless, mindless, soul-crushing slog. At least the captain had the decency to turn on zero gravity for the lower levels when they’d launched. Plus, I'm in deep space and not on the Sovereign-forsaken rock I've called home for twenty-three years, Victorio reasoned with microscopic joy.
When the nameless, inhuman guard floated away, Victorio seized his short window of opportunity to glance outside. There was only one tiny window in his station, but it was enough. A fleet of cruisers blocked the stars, each carrying thousands of bodies heading to galaxies unknown. A mixture of dread and anticipation warred inside his gut. I shouldn't have done it, Victorio thought, I signed up for an intergalactic match-matching service on a dare. Thirteen celestial cycles, three hundred transmissions, and a marriage proposal later, I'm traveling to the furthest edge of the galaxy to meet a man I only know as X. That damn matchmaker wouldn’t even let me see a picture of him before I fled!
You're a fool, Victorio remembered his best friend Nova signing as they stood on the loading docks of Tieqiú 9. He was the only thing tethering Victorio to that backwater hellhole. Well, that and the indenture he was fleeing from. They’d pressed their foreheads together without a word, a traditional way to say goodbye in the silent tongue. Then, they’d split off, assumed aliases, donned disguises, and faded into the unforgiving void of space. The journey was much harder than the legends of runaways had led Victorio to believe the trip would be. But it was nothing compared to life under Tiger Chu’s iron-tipped boot. Victorio missed Nova and was afraid of what the future might bring, but nothing would make him turn back. Not now, when Deltrax was so close, he could feel it in his bones as its gravitational pull caused the transporter to sway. Victorio covered his ears as the ship reared up, overcorrecting, sending clusters of synthetic meteorite and laser-tipped shovels flying through the air. Even in slow-motion, floating in zero-g, one hit from either of those objects would result in death.
"...Getting fucked by a stranger for food and shelter is a whole lot better than getting fucked over for free," Victorio murmured to himself, getting back to work. Wandering minds result in headless bodies, his former boss used to say. He hated that Tiger Chu’s voice was still in his head, dominating his thoughts, but Victorio knew he was right. He had to focus on the task ahead. There was no going back; once a miner broke contract and fled, the only thing waiting for him back on Tieqiú was death. It had to be worth it, Victorio realized, to abandon everything and everyone he’d ever known for the promise of a better life, or all of this would have been for nothing. Victorio would have sold what little he had to get on EX-88B, for nothing. He’d would’ve worked himself to the brink of death all sol long, and through the lunar rotation, to make it to Deltrax, for nothing. He’d sold his soul for a shot of freedom, selling his body to some lonely bachelor in order to secure his freedom was the next logical step.
"WARNING! DOCKING IN T-5 GZ. PREPARE TO BRACE." Relief flooded Victorio’s exhausted muscles, giving him the strength to carry on. I have to hold on a little longer. Soon, I'll be home, and I’ll be free.
✦ ✦ ✦
Deltrax, Sector VX19
Space Ranger Headquarters’ Transporter Bay
"I'm the only one?" Victorio asked, clutching the straps of his ratty backpack. Transgalactic Transporter EX-88B landed on the frozen wasteland of Deltrax after piercing its sub-zero atmosphere. Victorio barely recovered from the brutal landing when he read the news. Overhead, a hologram flashed the number of passengers disembarking, a whopping total of one.
"Out." The cybernetic guard who looked vaguely amphibien ordered, pointing his phaser towards the exit ramp. Victorio took that as a yes, shrugged, and floated towards the belt leading to the planet's surface. As he passed through the transparent tube connecting the ship to the docks below, Victorio couldn’t help but marvel at the grand snow-capped mountains that surrounded him. Tieqiú 9 was temperament all year long, kept that way by an artificially generated eco-system geared to keeping miners in the mines. Deltrax, on the other hand, was a frozen wasteland. Or, a winter wonderland, depending on how optimistic one was. The atmosphere held a blue tinge, and Victorio wondered if the air was breathable for him. Despite the apparent harsh conditions of his new home, Victorio took heart that at least X hadn’t lied about how awful it was. Here’s to hoping he’s not hiding anything else from me, Victorio
mused, oscillating between joy and terror as he got closer to the surface.
Once he reached the surface, however, Victorio regretted gambling away his last blanket for a bottle of t’quil. He shivered so hard it felt as if his teeth would fly out of his mouth. When the anti-gravity sensors turned off, and his feet hit the ground, Victorio took off running to what looked like a door. The bay was silent, a blinding white in color. Aside from his transporter, the other terminals were empty, so no one greeted him as he flew across the bridge connecting the bay to the side of a mountain. He ran, and ran, until he passed through the arc carved into the rock and collapsed. The weeks of torturous hard labor hit him all at once, and he couldn’t bring himself to move. So, he waited for someone to come. He’d half expected X to be waiting for him at the docks. If he didn’t show up soon, the cold would kill him before they got a chance to say, "I do."
"He-ll-oo, Vic’tor?" A voice called out to him from above in broken Qiú.
"X? I’m Victorio, by the way. Not—" Victorio couldn’t finish his sentence, stunned. Hovering above him was a ball of seafoam green gelatin and large eyeballs, swirling around in nausting circles. He couldn’t figure out if it had a mouth, or if it was beaming its words straight into his mind. Either way, X looked nothing like Victiorio imagined he would. His flowery transmissions on galacticmates.ag going on and on about the winter winds on Deltrax, and his position in government, made Victiorio picture a big, fat, hairy, alienoid politician. He most definitely hadn’t imagined his fiancé to be a rolling sack of green shit.
"Pardon me, Vic’tor! My Qiú is...underdeveloped." The monster, his husband, apologized profusely.
Why couldn’t he be a warm teddy bear of an alien instead of a fucking slimeball? Victorio bit his tongue to stop himself from cussing out loud. Swallowing the massive lump in his throat, Victorio rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself on to his knees. He didn’t try to stand. He knew if he did, he’d bolt back to the ship demanding entrance, and get blasted into bits. There was no going back; his ticket was a one-way trip.