by Loki Renard
She looks at me with those great golden eyes. “His name shall be Tvei. He is born of two worlds. Two species. Two hearts, but he has one home.”
“Tvei,” I repeat, liking the name though I would have never picked it myself. Skoll smiles and says it too.
“Tvei!”
“Tvei!” She repeats his name, and the ceremony is complete. He is held above all, the first infant of human and grimalkin blood, mixing the best of the both of us in one vigorous package.
“TVEI!” the crowd chants back, his name coming from the throats of his family, those who would die to protect him. Those for whom Skoll and I would also give our lives.
“RAWR!” Tvei declares, his little growl so fucking adorable I think I might actually die hearing it.
The tribe roars back, joining him in his declaration of ferocity, pleasing him greatly as he laughs and kicks and snarls for their amusement. Shanti smiles at him and hands him back to me. “Love him well, Kitty," she says. “Love him as we love you.”
I love him more than I knew I could love anybody. And I love them more than I thought I could ever love anyone outside myself. On Earth, I thought if I accumulated goods, I would one day be satisfied. Here I have nothing, and I am happier than I have ever been. I have nothing, and yet I have everything that matters. Is that cheesy? I don’t give a fuck. I call a spade a spade, and I call happy ever after, a happy ever after.
HEA signed, sealed, and delivered just like baby Tvei. I hope you enjoyed meeting these feral aliens…
Wait…
Could there be more? Just a little more of Skoll and Kitty? A dirty little bonus, maybe?
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Feral Aliens Book Two Sneak Peek!
Am I writing another Feral Aliens book? You bet your ass I am. I’ve been writing it since before you read this one. That’s how I roll.
So anyway, here’s some of that, as much as Amazon will allow me to share. Maybe you’ll want to pre-order this puppy, and maybe I’ll make that happen for us both if you CLICK THIS LINK RIGHT HERE.
My name is Pixie, and there are two things you need to know about me.
1.Nobody controls me.
2.Nobody.
When I’m caught in an alien battle and yanked from Earth onto another planet where people are more feline than human, things get a little weird.
I meet an alien bad boy with fangs and claws. He doesn’t know the first or second thing about me, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care.
His name is Scratch, and he lives to break rules.
Scratch rubs me the wrong way.
Scratch gets under my skin.
Scratch gives me every reason to hate him, even as I’m falling for him.
But things are complicated. The feral alien tribe who have appointed themselves my guardians don’t call him Scratch. They call him their prisoner of war.
They tell me to stay away from him.
They forbid him from so much as talking to me.
But it turns out there’s only one thing I need to know about Scratch.
When he wants something, he takes it.
And Scratch wants me.
SCRATCH - SNEAK PEEK
Scratch
“What does it take for you to learn your lesson?” I growl the words into her face, my fangs flashing less than a quarter of an inch from her impudent mouth. She’s made of attitude, this human woman.
“Everything and nothing,” she hisses back through clenched teeth. Her eyes flare at me with the disobedient rebellion which made me fall for her. This human is the most maddening, perfect, adorable troublemaker I’ve ever met. And I’ve met me, so that’s impressive.
This conversation is a waste of time for us both. This girl thinks she is unbreakable. She refuses to fit in, and absolutely refuses to follow the rules. She made herself an outcast on Earth and she’s determined to do so here too. I’m an outlaw myself, so I get it. But you can’t stay outlaw forever. Not if you want to survive in the wild. There’s all kinds of rules you can break in this world, but you can’t break nature’s rules. Not without getting broken yourself.
I’m going to have to tame this brat of a human. And it starts with making her scream.
She’s already naked, her creamy caramel body vulnerable to mine. She has a dark little pelt at the apex of her thighs which makes her almost look like one of us in that specific little carnal location.
I remember the first time I met her. I wasn’t in a position to properly see her, definitely not in any state to actually want her. Now, wanting her is all I can do. It is a consuming force which drives my every thought and my every move.
Moons ago….
Mr Tiddles
I yawn, stretch, and carry on sleeping. It’s not easy being a fugitive. Or maybe it is. When I first took this skin it felt small and limited, but my human has done well by me. My old identity is a distant memory. I am Mr Tiddles now. And Mr Tiddles I shall remain. Unless, of course a handy almost dead corpse should happen to provide an alluring home for my cramped consciousness. That’s unlikely to happen.
My paw touches something.
Ugh. Gross. I shake it and lick it. Tastes dead. Hm. Maybe worth investigating after all. Sniffing at the bodies of the dead yet to be moved, I have to remind myself that nibbling on them, even the tastiest parts would technically be cannibalism. Or catnibalism. Or catnibbleism. However you say it, it would be probably wrong, and not just in a moral way. In a way which might get me sick as hell.
“Blah blah blah…”
“Blah blah blah blah blah…”
The feral cats are having a discussion inside the clearing. After the city attacked, a lot of debris was pulled through the closing portal. It’s complicated, and as a cat, I don’t have to care about that at all. So I don’t.
But something is making my whiskers twitch, and I always follow a twitchy whisker.
“I need to get back to Kitty.”
Skoll is whinging. He’s been whiny and protective ever since she gave birth to his baby. Those things change a grimalkin. I’m glad I never had one. It would have slowed me down, probably gotten me caught. The city would have had leverage over me. It’s best a guy like me stays attachment free. In this world, caring for something or someone is just like handing fate a knife to stab you with.
“Soon,” Falkri says. “You are the only one who understands this technology. We’ve found something that doesn’t fit. We need you to check it out.”
“What do you need me to look at that you can’t identify….” Skoll trails off as Falkri points to something laying on the ground. The very thing which made my whiskers twitch.
“Is that another human?” Falkri asks. “It looks like yours, but different.”
“It is a human,” Skoll says. “She must have been pulled through the walking wall when it was destroyed. It must have been open to the human world in some way. An accidental redirect, of sorts. Shit. The city must have used almost all their power to walk the soldiers this far. It probably relocated all sorts of things that weren’t supposed to move.”
That’s a lot of must have’s and probably’s, but I’m not going to point that out because I’m inside a cat and cats can’t talk. The urge to speak was almost impossible to deal with when I first slipped inside this body. Now I’m much more used to it.
I wander over and give her a good sniff.
She has caramel colored skin, dark curling hair and the smile of an angel. She’s very pretty for a human. Pity that the journey through the portal in the middle of a battle seems to have killed her.
I feel the urge for a nap coming on.
“She’s still breathing!” Skoll declares, hoisting her up onto his shoulders. “I’m taking her to Shanti. She might still live.”
I yawn. I use
d to care about things like this, before my consciousness was stuffed into a cerebellum six sizes too small. It’s too tight in here to worry about what happens to other people.
Pixie
Best. Night. Ever.
Or maybe worst night ever?
It’s all kind of a blank blur, which usually means I’ve done some off the hook crazy shit. I can’t wait to find out what. I can’t feel my face. Or my legs. Damn. It must have been epic. I should check my social media.
Before I even open my eyes, I’m reaching out for my phone. I can’t find my bedside table. It’s like it’s not even there anymore. What the literal fuck. Did I lose it? If I’ve dropped my phone somewhere, it will be the third phone this year. But it would be the first time I ever lost my bedside table.
“Stay still,” somebody says. “You're hurt.”
It’s a female voice, sounds like Eartha Kitt broke into my bedroom. Fucking weird. I open my eyes, slowly, because my head is throbbing and a hundred hangovers have taught me you don’t just go flinging your eyelids open like some kind of maniac. You take it carefully. You take it slow. Little bit of light at a time, so I don’t get speared right in my eyeballs.
What I see is weird. It is not my bedroom. It’s not a bedroom of anybody’s house that I know. The roof is thatched with sticks and things, sort of like a primitive cabin. Maybe I went to Vegas and forgot about it. They have all sorts of weird shit there.
“Did I win?”
“I think it is safe to say you did not," the voice says. It is so pleasing and deep and warm and husky. It makes me feel safe enough to open my eyes all the way - and promptly wish I hadn’t.
There’s a woman leaning over me. She’s wearing a cat mask, and it’s super fucking realistic. Like a prosthetic or something.
“Dude! What the fuck!?”
I try to sit up but a blazing pain emanates through my head.
“Stay down,” she says. “You’ve been injured.”
I’m trying to work out which one of my friends this is, but I really don’t recognize the voice. This is weird. Even for me. And I once sneaked onto a Saudi prince’s plane and made him take me for burgers.
Everybody has been telling me for years that I’m going to wake up dead one day. Today might actually be that day. Nothing feels real. Nothing feels right. My head hurts, my body aches, and even the simplest of motions feels almost impossible.
“Where’s my phone? I need my phone.”
“I don’t know what a phone is, but it is probably back on your planet.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Comedowns make me bitchy. It’s one of my least favorite personal traits. I usually take a couple days off on my own, drink some smoothies and watch shitty television and get back to normal.
The closer I look at the woman over me, the more freaked out I get. She has eyes the color of the sun and teeth sharp enough to eat me with. I’m tripping again. Jesus I need to stop taking shit just because somebody tells me it is awesome. It was awesome, right up until it wasn’t.
My memory is not good right now. I know I took something because I’m always taking something. And I know it was probably new, because I like new. I’m kind of a pioneer that way. A crash test dummy for drugs.
I start to get up, thinking that she’ll disappear like the hallucinations usually do when I try to touch them. But she doesn’t. She stays very, very real above me. Fucking weird. She has a body like a human, arms legs, that sort of shit, but her face has very feline features, a broad flattened nose, golden eyes with round, black pupils. Her hair is similarly raven, woven into a single thick braid sitting over her shoulder.
“You’ve been injured,” she says. “Lay still.”
“Fuck off, bitch.” That’s something of an extra response given she’s being nice, but she’s also a cat faced lady. So. You know.
“You have a wound in your side,” she says. “If I fuck off at this moment, you will finish bleeding out. Is that what you want?
That’s when I realize she’s pressing on my stomach, just around my ribs.
I must be in the hospital. I must have hurt myself. Makes sense. Getting blackout fucked up can do that to you. Whatever my eyes are telling me is a lie, but the pain and injuries are probably very real.
I do the only thing that makes any sense. I pass out.
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More Science Fiction Hotness
Want to read something else right now? My Feral Aliens series is just beginning, but I am six books into my Possessive Aliens series, which features a set of seriously dominant aliens navigating the difficulties of wrangling their human lovers, oh, and trying to save the human species as a whole.
Mine: A Possessive Alien Romance
Interstellar Human Petting Zoo
Humans Must Kneel
Cave Alien
Karen vs Alien
Human Pet Pound
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Loki
