Night of the Monrok: A Reverse Harem Romance

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Night of the Monrok: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 1

by Aubrey Cara




  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  Night of the Monrok

  By

  Aubrey Cara

  Copyright © 2018 Night of the Monrok by Aubrey Cara

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published in the United States of America

  Aubrey Cara

  Editor:

  Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing

  BLURB

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Note

  BLURB

  Trust your fate and be brave.

  Those were the last words said to me before I was sealed in a crate and shipped to Pacbar. Beaten and broken, I never made it to the capital planet of the Jun’pn Galaxy. My crate was intercepted, opened, and I, a rare valuable creature, was stolen, paraded naked on stage in an open market, and sold to not one, but four Monrok warriors.

  I know what the Monrok want from me. I was created for just that purpose, but I need something from them, too. I’m on a mission they cannot know of, yet every moment with my new Monrok masters makes it harder to keep my secret.

  It’s imperative I reach Pacbar and speak to the Galactic Unity Council, for the fate of the galaxy rests on me, a veran concubine.

  PROLOGUE

  Sana

  Pippen arranges my cape and robes to hide my battered face before lifting me in his arms. In his safe embrace, I slip in and out of consciousness as he secretes me away by the shadow of night. Where he takes me, I do not know, but I trust Pippen. He has been my mentor and friend for the past ten solars. Wherever he is taking me will be safe.

  I wake to the pain of being jostled as I’m settled down somewhere hard and uncomfortable.

  “Pippen?” My swollen eyes can only open to slits, and it’s hard to see.

  “Shhh,” he replies, resting a hand on the crown of my head.

  “Where are we?” I whisper.

  “In the back of a cargo ship. It’s going to Pacbar. You must seek out the Galactic Unity Council and tell them what you know, and hope they grant you freedom.” He strokes his hand through my hair and then his touch is gone.

  “Wait!”

  “There’s no time, Sana,” he hisses in his chiming geran voice. “I’ve placed you in a terraform crate.” The breathable material holds its shape but is light enough I can break through.

  My panic eases a notch, but anxiety still rides me. “You’re not coming with me.” It’s a foolish thing to say, but I’ve never felt more vulnerable and alone than this moment.

  “You know I may not. I’ve risked enough to ensure you live.”

  A knot forms in my throat, making it hard to speak. “I will miss you.”

  “And I you. Trust your fate and be brave, my young one.”

  My eyes sting at his endearment for me.

  Trust your fate and be brave.

  “I don’t know my fate.” I want to shout, but it comes out as croak. I never had veran house sisters to tell me what my fate may be. My choice is to either leave the only place I have ever known, or stay and die.

  “I know mine,” he says. “And it’s centered around helping you escape and getting you to Pacbar. Sometimes you do not need a vision to know it is your path. Get to Pacbar. Warn the Council. Trust your fate, young one.”

  I choke back a sob as Pippen places the cover over the crate, and all goes dark.

  I have no idea how to navigate Pacbar, or how to reach the Galactic Unity Council without detection, but for the sake of all the people in the Jun’pn Galaxy, I must try.

  Trust your fate and be brave.

  I let the words play over and over in my mind as the tidal wave of darkness sweeps me under once again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  BANX

  My cybernetics work to mute the noise and block the fetid stench of sex and unwashed bodies. Crowds of randy Ikbar and Joran move aside for my brethren and me as we wind our way through the filthy streets of Ak’ba.

  The trading and prostitution moon colony is more alive than usual tonight. All the raucous creatures of the Jun’pn Galaxy spill out of open doorways and shuffle along the streets in varying stages of depravity and dishabille.

  “Is there some kind of miner’s holiday I don’t know about?” one of my brethren Tawn asks.

  Most hirsute Joran and four-armed Ikbar who travel off their worlds are miners. By the sheer number of them here tonight, I have to wonder that myself.

  A Ghyan, of all beings strolls past, swishing her thick tail. She runs scaly long webbed fingers over her bald ridged skull seductively and winks over her shoulder at me.

  “Ghyan are selling tail on Ak’ba now?” my brethren Jor quips, saying exactly what I’m thinking. “What’s the galaxy coming to?”

  Things are certainly changing. I never thought we’d all be traveling around the Jun’pn galaxy as free beings, no collaring chip in our necks. No Zapex to answer to. No battles to fight but our own.

  A squat amorphous Mux brushes against me as he passes, and I curse, shaking the slime from its body off my hand.

  “Why the fuck are we here again?” I ask Tawn at my side.

  His tash stone blue eyes, similar to my own and every other Monrok ever created, narrow on me in annoyance.

  He’s just as powerfully built and tall as I am, but his skin is pale and his hair like a wiry bush of fire on his head. When he’s truly angered, his head looks like a burning flame.

  His jaw flexes. “I already told you, the Ikbar I talked to back on Neo said we’d want to be here for the auction on the main stage tonight.”

  “What does some stupid Ikbar know about what we want?” I question.

  “He’d been at the booth selling Alogorian wares,” Tawn says, annoyance clear in his voice. “He likely heard Ast and Jor discussing the Monrok hunt for human females. It’s not exactly a secret.”

  I grunt. That’s right. Tawn thinks humans of all things are going to be here. On Ak’ba of all places.

  Jor nudges me with his wide shoulder, his face a grim mask. “You need to stop being such an hadhr, Banx. Who cares why we’re here? I’d rather be here than at some outpost. Or twiddling our thumbs on Kadeema while the few Monrok who have claimed females rut themselves dry.”

  I snarl and show him a human hand gesture that seems fitting for the moment. I’m obviously the only one eager to begin our journey.

  “This is a waste of our time.” I hate wasting time. I’m used to living my days with purpose. Training. Fighting. Guarding. Training some more. We were under Zapex rule, but we had a fucking purpose.

  “We could have left with the guardship going to look for King Thaain’s ship,” Ast points out. “The king’s vessel is supposedly full of human pets and veran concubines.”

  Tawn shakes his head. “Why involve ourselves anymore with anything Zapex? And for what? Folklore? Rather stay on Kadeema than get involved with that shit.”

&
nbsp; “I liked Kadeema,” Ast states. “Good hunting. Fresh air. Wide open spaces.”

  “Bah,” Jor sneers. “It was a monotonous existence of training and building up some bastardized version of Earth those idiots think we’re missing out on. It was as boring as guard duty on Shen’du.”

  “Nothing is more boring than being stationed on Shen’du.”

  Shen’du is an ice planet where nothing grows. There are no life forms, big or small. Not even a hint of an insect. And there is no sun.

  “Maybe you mistook boredom for your uselessness,” Ast says, ignoring my statement to goad Jor. The two lumbering Monrok constantly bicker, and come to blows at least once a cycle.

  “Whose idea was it for them to come with?” I ask Tawn.

  “I thought it was yours,” he replies.

  In truth, we hadn’t ever contemplated Jor and Ast not accompanying us on our journey.

  Since we came of age, the four of us have only known a handful of solars we weren’t all stationed in the same place. For decades Ast, Tawn, Jor, and I have shared a bond most Monrok do not have. We may bicker, but we stand united, always. Brothers.

  I still loudly tell Tawn, “Let’s just leave them here and find a female of our own.” It’s said only half in jest, but the hadhr fucker Jor shoves me into an unfortunate Joran.

  The hirsute creature grumbles in a quick chatter as it bows repeatedly. The scent of his fear is rancid in the air.

  As Monrok, I am used to such foolishness. We are the most indestructible beings in the universe, biomechanically engineered to be faster, stronger, and more intelligent than all others in existence.

  Since we rebelled against our creators, the Zapex, and were granted our freedom by the Galactic Unity Council, we are being shown a new respect and level of fear by every being we meet.

  We Monrok are now an unpredictable variable in the Jun’pn galaxy.

  I pat the Joran’s bowed head to reassure him I’m not planning on snapping his neck, but he keeps bowing as we move on.

  “They won’t stand a chance maintaining their freedom if the Zapex try to take the galaxy,” Tawn says at my side, I’m assuming referring to the Joran as a species.

  “At least they’ll have their lives.”

  Tawn snorts in reply.

  The Zapex’s plan to take over the Jun’pn galaxy had been widely rumored before the rebellion, but I believe they’ve been weakened by our absence. All they have is their advance technology and males who were complacent to let the Monrok fight their battles.

  “Now that we are no longer their soldiers, who knows what they will do,” I say.

  “Obviously, the Galactic Unity Council still sees them as a threat.”

  “True.” Everyone knows the GUC only granted the Monrok freedom in exchange for alliance. Not all in the galaxy believe Monrok capable of honoring such allegiance. They took quite a large risk making such a trade with us.

  Monrok as a whole are used to being united in only two things: fighting and duties to the Zapex. Now that we are free, the mass of my brethren are at odds over how we should be uniting.

  There are those building up Kadeema, a world on the far reaches of the galaxy that we claimed as are own.

  Then, there are those like Jor, Tawn, Ast, and I who are restless and not content to wait for action to come to us. The universe holds infinite possibilities, including the promise of human females. We’ve all existed for decades before discovering our organic origin and seeing females in the flesh. Now that we have, we want one of our own.

  The area around the main auction stage is as crowded as the streets. Everyone is packed into the arena shoulder to shoulder.

  We have to step over an Ikbar and Mux rutting on the sandy ground as we push through the mass gathering. There’s a sick squelching sound with each of the Ikbar’s thrusts into the goo-covered creature. Slime from the amorphous Mux spatters in all directions, hitting my boots and pant leg.

  My lip curls.

  Ast and Tawn’s faces both reflect my disgust, but Jor throws his head back and laughs.

  He plants his booted foot in the center of the Ikbar’s thin ass and helps him thrust. “That’s right. Give it to him good.”

  The rutting pair squeal.

  “For fuck’s sake.” I turn my back and pushing forward to the empty stage. “When is this supposed to begin?” I snap, annoyed by this entire trip.

  “Nightfall?” Ast says as if unsure.

  Jor snorts, likely at the ridiculous of the statement. Ak’ba is an enclosed moon colony without a sun or atmosphere. The synthetic lighting here gives the impression of night at all times.

  We’re just reaching the area directly in front of the stage when the lights around the arena dim and a spotlight comes on over center stage. The raucous crowd quiets, as intended, their focus now on the much-anticipated surprise promised to us all.

  There are gasps of shock. I even scent traces of fear in the air as two Ikbar with identical smirks pulling their near translucent faces, lead out one of the most rare and valuable creatures in the known universe.

  My own cybernetics work to calm my racing heart.

  The crowd has gone silent in awe.

  “Is that...” Ast begins

  “I think it bloody well is,” Tawn replies.

  Her thick black hair hangs loose, obscuring her face. It’s impossible to discern whether she’s high born or veran. Either way, it’s clear from her lithe blue body and black hair, she’s Zapex.

  A fucking Zapex female.

  And bared for all to see her many delectable charms.

  She’s the most tempting creature I’ve ever seen.

  With her hands bound, palms together behind her back, her high breasts thrust forward invitingly. Her torso dips in the center with a slim waist that flares out in gently rounded hips. The adjunct at the top of her thighs is bare and plump. Tantalizing.

  My mouth waters, and my lifebringer swells, wanting to discover if her cunt is as soft and welcoming as it looks.

  Mine, something inside me says, demanding I lay claim to that female on the stage. As foolish as it may be, I want her. My search is over. No other will do.

  I glance around me at all the masses gaping, and I’m overcome by a strange sick burning rage. It knots in my chest and spreads out. They are unworthy of looking at such a creature. A creature not meant for them.

  Mine.

  “It’s impossible,” Jor mutters and it takes me a tick to realize I hadn’t said my thought aloud. He’s annotating the fact that a Zapex female is here. On Ak’ba. And I have to agree. It’d be more likely to see a human here than a Zapex female.

  Slim blue shoulders hunched, the female, my female is shoved to her knees, and I fight an irrational urge to end her two Ikbar handlers. It’s clear from the bruising on her arms and legs, and cowed demeanor she has been beaten.

  If they were the ones who beat her…every muscle in my body tenses, wanting to strike out.

  “Last I checked, it was illegal to beat a veran,” Tawn points out, still staring at our female on stage.

  “And fucking unheard of to sell one,” Jor grumbles with a frown.

  Although veran are low-caste Zapex females, they’re revered as oracles and treasured concubines, gifted to only the highest-born Zapex houses.

  “Great ramdian balls,” Ast curses. “How the fuck did it get here?”

  That’s likely the question going through all of our minds. A murmur of chatter rises around us, and I hear the sentiment being repeated in every dialect known to the Jun’pn galaxy.

  Ast and Jor angle their bodies so their backs are to the stage, not the crowd. They look around as if waiting for trouble on the horizon. And rightly so. Zapexian females are the most heavily guarded beings in the universe. In all my fifty-plus solars of life, I’ve never even caught a glimpse of one.

  Chin still tipped down, she looks right at me through the veil of her hair. Her eyes are shining onyx orbs that call to me. Reel me in.

 
; The black of her eyes confirms she’s veran. And now that I have seen her, I know why her kind have been kept as sexual servants for thousands of centuries. Even bound and beaten, she’s beguiling.

  Veran are known to be priestesses of a sort, but they prophesy one’s fate through sexual congress. I’m not sure if I believe the shit about their mystical prowess, nor do I care. She’s mine. She is meant for the four of us.

  Without thought, I jump onto the platform.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” I hear Jor ask behind me. I ignore him and the two Ikbar flanking the female as I stride forward.

  I stop only when my booted feet nearly touch her knees. With care, I lift her delicate chin.

  Her face is marred with bruises, her lip split and swollen, yet she is still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

  “Release her bindings,” I command.

  “That’s not wise,” the Ikbar to the right says in clacking knocks of his tongue language.

  I let my irritation show in the flex of my jaw and fist. “As is not heeding my command.”

  Quickly, he scrambles to uncuff first her forearms then her wrists and last undo the binding over her hands.

  She gives a distressed cry as they cut the bindings. The instant her hands are loose, her hair comes alive in waves and snaps as if with a mind of its own.

  I turn to the Ikbar and point to her bruises while she rubs life back into her arms. “Did you do this to her?” I ask the subdued bipedal duo hovering nearby.

  “She came like this.”

  “Even worse,” the other says. They are thin and boney, as are all Ikbar, their near translucent skin showing veins. Easy to kill. But I do not sense they lie.

  “How did she come to be in your possession?”

  “Gearan say master no want her. Gonna kill her. They smuggle her onto mining planet.”

 

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