“Are you serious?”
He gave one decisive nod. “Very. Choose a mate or one will be chosen for you.”
“That’s right. You will do as the governor says. Maybe then you’ll be too busy to completely destroy our personal quarters,” Tyran cut in, now standing beside Kristin. She rolled her eyes at her mate and then winked at me.
“Now,” the governor said again, exerting his authority and using the example of my destruction of someone’s living space as another reason for his haste. He raised his hand to silence the crowd and the volume went from melee to library in a matter of seconds, every male there watching me with hope in his eyes.
I glanced quickly into the stands. Found Makarios. Looked away.
Every male but one.
Damn. Makarios was scowling, his arms crossed over his chest, his face an unreadable slab of stone. He could have been watching paint dry. “But—”
“If you are mated, then you will no longer be a source of such disruption. You will be put back on active duty and allowed to go on missions,” he added.
I bit my lip at that statement. At the fucking dangling carrot.
I angled my head down, stared at him through my lashes. Okay, I’d bite. “Let me repeat that just so we’re clear. I find myself a mate and I can go on missions again, even to fight the Hive.”
“That’s correct.”
He wouldn’t have tossed it out there if it weren’t true. He was the governor, for Pete’s sake. And, he’d said it in front of lots of people. Witnesses. He couldn’t back out now.
I couldn’t stay here on the Colony, grounded, for another day. The opportunity was too great. I just needed a mate. What did it matter? We could fuck and have fun and then I could go off on missions. Do my own thing. No connection except a good time. Any one of these males would be good in bed. But there was one who made me eager to get there. And now.
Even better, it was well known that he didn’t want a mate at all. I did not need an overly protective, possessive alpha male bossing me around, thinking I belonged to him. I needed freedom, and a smoking hot tumble in the sheets.
Refusing to glance up into the stands, I focused my thoughts on the one who made me hot, who could make my time between missions filled with orgasms. The idea… and the thought of Mak’s hands on me, his cock in me, was making me burn up with lust.
His eyes, light and piercing, would hold mine as he thrust into me. His skin was tanned, his jaw strong. With hair a little too long to be considered military cut, he stood out from the others. Even in the standard Coalition uniform, he stood out in a crowd. Taller than the other Atlans, he was a silent, sulking giant and I wanted to get under his skin and find out what made him tick. What made him hot. What made him burn.
There was nothing about him that overtly confirmed the rumor that he wasn’t Coalition military, that he wasn’t a fighter at all. But I believed the gossip. And those in the know said he was a rebel and smuggler from Rogue 5. That he broke laws as easily as he could crack skulls. That his code of honor and loyalty belonged to his Legion on that ruled part of the rebel moon above the planet Hyperion. That he was different. Unique. Alone in the galaxy. One of a kind.
Exactly like me.
I put my hands on my hips. Hot sex. No strings. We’d both get what we wanted. “Fine.”
The governor arched a brow. “That easily? I should have given you an ultimatum days ago. This base wouldn’t be in such turmoil.”
I pursed my lips, not pleased he’d put all the blame for things being a little crazy on me. It wasn’t my fault the males were acting like a bunch of cavemen.
“Fighters, you willingly fought in the pit for this female. Will you now agree to allow her to select a mate?”
The four males puffed up their chests, lifted their chins. They nodded and agreed readily, no doubt confident, each of them, that I would choose him.
“Who do you choose, Gwendolyn Fernandez of Earth? Your decision will not be questioned, your answer final. Please state the warrior’s name and planet of origin, so there will be no confusion. Whom do you declare as your mate?”
This wasn’t the way I wanted to find a guy, but the perks were too good to pass up. A big cock attached to a hot guy and my freedom? I’d be able to go on missions, get off this planet for a while. The governor was being generous. If I didn’t agree, I had to assume he would take the choice away from me. I would be mated to someone within the hour, someone he would probably select. It was all down to whether I would choose my own destiny or allow the decision to be made for me.
The whole situation was unfair, but then, that was life on the Colony. Suckage and more suckage after that. The males here were even worse off than I was, if I was being perfectly honest. I had my pick of hundreds of sexy, virile, eager males. And they only had the hope that they’d be matched to an Interstellar Bride, and that was only if the system, the testing made a match. Hope for a bride… and me.
I looked at the four males before me, then up into the stands. At him. I lifted my hand and pointed, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. I had no idea how this was going to go down, if he’d be pleased or appalled. If he was interested or would hate me for trapping him. But I knew two things. One, I wanted his body pounding into mine. I wanted to touch him. Smell him. I wanted skin to skin contact in a big way.
And two? If the rumors were true, and I believed they were, Mak didn’t want a mate. He didn’t want to be on this planet any more than I did. We were both trapped. Prisoners. We could have fun and use each other for our own ends.
Of all the males here, he was the only one who would give me what I really wanted… hot sex with no strings. Besides, if I had to choose, I was going to go for what my traitorous body craved. “I choose Makarios Kronos of Rogue 5.”
No one spoke. All was silent in the pit and the stands around it. Slowly, he stood.
Our gazes met.
Held.
I forgot to breathe.
Around us, no one moved. No one made a sound as a single beat of my pulse pounded through my ears like a bass drum. One beat.
Two.
Then all hell broke loose.
Chapter 3
Mak, The Colony, The Pits
* * *
What the fuck?
Every Prillon warrior in the stands was climbing down out of their seats to position himself behind Captain Marz. If Marz chose to fight, things were going to get ugly.
The Trion male grinned, bowed to me, then to Gwen, and calmly walked out of the pits through the swinging doors Gwen had flung open earlier.
Our friend, Tane, looked up at me like I’d just shot him in the back with an ion blaster but didn’t move. In fact, every Atlan in the stands was seated like an unmoving mountain, waiting to see what I would do. Waiting for the call to fight for my right to claim the female. There weren’t many Atlans on the Colony. Most didn’t survive the Hive’s attempts to turn them into monsters. But there were at least a dozen in the arena, counting Braun, Tane and myself.
We could give the Prillons below a fierce fight if every Atlan here went into beast mode. It would be a bloody, sweaty melee. Atlan and Prillon alike, they were all hungry for a good fight. Poised like snakes, ready to strike. No one would die, but everyone would bleed. All over the black-haired temptress who had just chosen a monster as her mate. The other males here were far more honorable than I. More deserving. I didn’t deny it. I was a smuggler by trade, a pirate by choice. I chose my battles and my loyalties. And I was not Coalition. I shouldn’t even be here.
Fuck. What a mess.
“What the fuck, Mak?” Braun hissed, turning to look at me. “You?”
Everyone in the pits was staring at me now, but no one else said a word, waiting to see what I would do.
Braun’s eyes were wide and his entire body tense. As if he were stunned by the lieutenant’s answer.
Well, my friend could join the fucking club for that, because I doubted anyone was more stunned than me.
Me.
ME.
Holy fuck.
My heart pounded and I questioned if I’d heard her correctly. But I had, because Braun had heard it, too. Everyone heard her call my name. Even the governor, who had a smug look on his face and his arms crossed as he watched me just like the rest of them. The bastard knew I couldn’t say no. Wouldn’t say no. She was offering me a miracle, and a way off this fucking planet. And the stares? I ignored all of them. I only had eyes for Gwen because she hadn’t looked away from me since she’d called my name.
My name. For a split second, I felt… special. Wanted. Desired, based on the need I saw in her eyes. Beneath the bravado, the intensity in her gaze, I saw hunger. Raw, unfiltered lust. The need for something she wanted me to give her. Not the four males who’d been fighting for her. Not anyone else in the stands. Hells, not even Braun.
Me.
I was growling before I could restrain the impulse, my fangs dropping in my mouth, eager to mark her, fill her with my seed, make her mine forever. But that was the animal side of my nature. Basic instinct. I was more than a Hyperion monster. I was a male with a mind and a will forged of iron.
I could take her. Fuck her. And keep the gods damned poison of my bite away from her. I would not be weak. I would not give in to the urge to claim her.
In fact, I highly doubted she wanted to be claimed. Not permanently. I knew the only reason she agreed to the governor’s terms was to get off this planet. To go on missions and feel useful. Important. Valued.
We were the same, her and I. I heard it in her voice when she argued with the governor, begging to be allowed off this rock, begging to fight the Hive. Go out into space. Get out of the cage.
I’d stood slowly when she’d called my name, holding her gaze. I watched her attention roam over every inch of me with blatant hunger. But the moment of surprised elation was over. Clarity fell like the sharpest sword. Why me? Why the fuck would she choose me? I was from Rogue 5 of all places. And half Forsian besides. I was the last male she should choose in this arena.
And perhaps that was exactly why she had chosen me.
Before her declaration, I’d believed only a handful of warriors on the planet knew of my true origin. I assumed they all thought I was an Atlan.
I’d been wrong. She knew I wasn’t Atlan. Knew I was from Rogue 5.
What else did she know?
Did she know the truth about me? About my bite? Did she know I couldn’t claim her as my own?
If she did, she wasn’t a fool for choosing me, she was taking a calculated risk. None of the rest of the males on this planet would allow her the kind of freedom I suspected she needed. No. These simpletons would get their hands on her, their cocks inside her, and turn into possessive, overly-protective, controlling mates. They’d want to breed her and keep her locked safely in her cage. A gilded cage, to be sure, but a prison all the same.
I didn’t want a mate. I wanted a good fuck and more freedom. It appeared that she desired the same. Which was fine with me. The way she’d tossed the warriors below around like toys, I imagined it would take all my cross-breed strength to truly tame her in bed.
My cock rose to the challenge.
Her gaze fell to take in the very large, very visible bulge in my pants. And when she only put her hands on her hips and narrowed her dark eyes, almost daring me to say no, I knew she didn’t plan to change her mind. And that dare? It made my cock weep and my balls ache. She was the most defiant female I’d ever met, of any race, anywhere in the galaxy. It only made me want to toss her over my shoulder and carry her off, drop her on my bed and dominate her. Oh, she’d hate that, submitting, but I knew the fight would make her wet. Because one thing I did know about her was that she was passionate, uninhibited. Wild. I looked forward to allowing her to work out all that feminine angst on me. Riding my cock with the deliberateness she gave to everything she did. Using me to soothe whatever had her perpetually riled. Perhaps she just needed an orgasm or two.
Or five.
Oh, I’d give them to her. And more. I’d give her so many, so much pleasure, that she’d be a sweaty, sated mess. Her mind would be empty, her body satisfied. Replete. Finally soothed.
Slowly, I moved.
Braun shifted to allow me to pass, to work my way to the steps that led down to the dirt pit where she stood. Waiting.
As I went, fighters moved out of my way, making a path for me. Perhaps waiting to see if Gwen would lift me and toss me across the pit like she had the Prillon.
She could try. I kept my eyes on hers as I went. Yes, I wanted that fire. Loved that it was directed at me. But this wasn’t a mating in the sense of claiming her as my own forever. No, I couldn’t have what the governor had with his mate, Rachel. Or Tyran with Kristin. Impossible. My cock wanted to fuck her. To spend in her tight pussy. To mark her. And my Hyperion fangs? I felt the pressure in my gums as I forced them to ascend. The beast within needed to bite her neck and make her mine. Permanently.
But because I was Hyperion and Forsian, my cock and my fangs had to work together for the true claiming. This was the secret, the truth no one knew. Not even the doctors who’d treated me when I’d arrived here.
A bite and the Forsian mating cock together would kill her. Forsian women dreamed of the day they’d take their mate’s enlarged cock with the mating head deep in her pussy. A Forsian cock was compared to a club on the home world, filling their females to the extreme. Once a female agreed to the official claiming, the average male would be hard, his cock swelling in eagerness to fill, fuck and mark with his seed.
But a Forsian cock changed more than most. It grew. And grew. The wide head flared and it caught inside, impossible to pull from a female’s tight passage until the claiming was complete. The couple was joined, locked together until the inner Forsian was satisfied that the female was truly and completely his. It took hours of fucking for a Forsian male’s balls to be emptied of all his seed, for the cock to finally be satiated, for the pleasure to recede enough for his body to return to normal size—which was still larger than other races—and able to withdraw. Historically, it ensured the female was so filled with seed that the chances of being bred the first time were high. An innate and biological way for the Forsian race to continue.
By the time the cock was finally withdrawn, the female was unquestionably well-pleasured. Delirious with bliss. Sometimes even driven unconscious. But there was no question of the claiming. No male in the galaxy could miss the scent and marks on a mated female, no matter the race. All would know that she belonged to someone, that her pussy was her mate’s and his alone. She was ruined for all others by the pleasure she found riding the engorged mating head. Once claimed, a Forsian female never longed for another.
As I stepped down onto the packed dirt, I knew Gwen could handle a Forsian mating cock. It would be a pleasure to finally get her stretched open with mine, and that alone would be fine.
But I wasn’t just Forsian. Fuck, no.
Having her pussy pummeled by my club-sized cock along with my Hyperion fangs embedded deep and ruthlessly in her shoulder would surely kill her. It happened again and again with my rare kind. The fact that there were so few of us left, all males, was proof. Something about our genetic line, the mixture of Hyperion and Forsian DNA, turned the Hyperion bite of pleasure into a rare and deadly poison.
Gwen would die if I bit her. It was one thing to fuck her unconscious. My male ego could handle that. But I would not fuck her to death. I couldn’t survive that kind of mistake. And that was why I’d avoided all females, for their own protection.
But now, somehow, the one female I’d avoided with deliberate intention had chosen me. Destroyed any chance I had to keep to my plan. To save her from me. For while we could fuck non-stop, I could never truly claim her as mine.
“He wasn’t a choice. It was to be one of us,” the bold Prillon, Captain Marz, insisted. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and there were three dozen Pr
illon warriors fanned out behind him prepared to support his claim.
The threat caused Gwen to break my gaze and she glared at the Prillon. “I was told to choose a mate. The only rule was that I had to do it now.”
“He’s not shown you any interest at all,” Tane added.
Gwen narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking the Prillon. She was so much smaller, appearing tiny surrounded by the four males, but I didn’t miss the way her breasts were lifted by her actions. Her clothing did nothing to disguise her female shape, the curves that had incited the constant fighting across Base 3 since she’d arrived.
Tane’s words were true. I’d done everything in my power to appear disinterested. If that Atlan only knew the extent of my obsession with her, he’d be shocked. I’d avoided her to save her and for that reason alone.
Now she was mine. She’d chosen me, and that changed everything.
Standing at the base of the seating area, I bunched my legs and leaped across the arena, landing squarely in front of Captain Marz and his supporters with my knees bent and a growl rumbling from my chest.
The Prillon didn’t budge, standing his ground as I stood to my full height and looked down my nose at his nearly seven-foot frame. He was big. Strong. A good fighter. But I would smash him into dust if he tried to interfere.
“She’s mine.”
“By the gods, Mak.” Tane moved to stand beside me, two Atlan sized warriors ready to fight. I was grateful for his support, and the hush that settled over the arena as first Braun, then every Atlan present stood as well. They would fight to support my claim. If Captain Marz didn’t stand down, things would get bloody, and quickly.
My new mate stepped up next to me. “I can take care of myself, Makarios.”
I looked away from Captain Marz to look down at her upturned face. She should have been sweaty and dirty from fighting, from throwing the Prillon idiot around the arena. But her skin looked dry and soft, utterly kissable. She looked utterly kissable.
Rogue Cyborg Page 4
