The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8

by Mills, Michele

  But he quietly dressed, trapping his hard cock in his trousers. He left his quarters, strode onto the bridge and sat in front of the main console. His head bowed. Alone and quiet.

  Now was the time for prayer. But the agony was so great… He took deep breaths and let out a roar and pounded the console with a closed fist.

  His eye socket throbbed with pain, a constant reminder of his cybernetic eye and the scar that slashed down the right side of his face.

  A reminder that he hadn’t seen or heard from his line in over ten years. A reminder of the torment and tragedy. He was starting to forget what his mother looked like, sounded like. He’d been only fifteen planetary rotations when his line was banished. His brother, Rayzor, had been five years older, an adult and able to make his way on his own. But for Kayzon it had been hardest of all. One day he’d had his line close around him in the family compound, and the next they were all gone, dispersed throughout the four sectors and Banished from Chronos. And it was his father’s fault.

  For ten years he’d lived the life of a Xylan warrior without a line. No Xylans of any consequence spent time with the son of the notorious Kroga of Seventy-Five, the traitor who’d sparked the Cordovian Wars.

  Kayzon had once had joy in his life. He’d lived with an esteemed line of royal pigment, until his father had been deemed a traitor of Xylan. The consequence of his father selling secrets to the alliance of Hurlian mafia was Banishment of his line for two generations. Kayzon had been taken from all he’d ever known and sent to live with an adoptive line of strangers on a planet in the farthest reaches of the Xylan empire.

  He’d been treated like an unhonored lazhul by both the champion and manager of the line he’d been adopted into. Their own son, a warrior of lighter skin than Kayzon, had started jealous honor battles that led to the loss of Kayzon’s eye. He was given a replacement cybernetic eye—an old, used model permanently synced with his brain and now irreplaceable.

  He’d left as soon as he’d come of age. He hadn’t had a line or lived in a family compound among other Xylans in eight planet rotations. He’d originally drifted from planet to planet, finding work as a hired mercenary, and then he became a Bounty Hunter, a position that allowed him to work on the edges of the four sectors, among mainly non-Xylan who didn’t care about his banishment or the fact that his name had been removed from the mating database. Among Xylans, he was worthless. A warrior of no honor. A lazhul.

  He closed his eyes; the pain lashing through his chest was nearly physical.

  Lazhul. He was not lazhul.

  He stood and left his seat at the bridge, unable to do his routine checks. He needed to write a mission log, make a report to the Bounty Hunter Guild and check his status on the Leader Boards. But his mind was full of old trauma. He stumbled along until he reached his retreat, the alcove that held the altar of multigod. He fell to his knees. Immediately the hurt begin to wash away.

  Why would the Gods give him the very thing he could not keep? There were millions of honorable Xylan warriors who had not yet found their mates. He was young yet, only twenty-five planet rotations. He wasn’t capable of taking care of a mate and offspring. He was a warrior of few words and no worth. Banished and deemed unworthy of a Bride.

  And yet he’d found Kia Cho.

  When he’d first brought his Bride on his ship he’d used the Bounty Hunter database and attempted a simple search run, but being human on a primitive planet, there were no records of her birth or line. So he’d planted drone devices at her family’s residence to learn more about this female. Her line was Margol. His Bride was a half-color, although he knew as a human she had no idea what that meant. He was of royal pigment. Prior to his banishment Kayzon would never have been offered to test mating compatibility with a Margol female. On Chronos it was customary for lines to remain pure. Margol and royal pigment did not mate.

  He could care less that his Bride was Margol. She was beautiful and blindingly desirable exactly the way she was… But others on Chronos would care.

  He bowed on the floor before the gods. His palms flat on the metal surface. Deep breaths. Eyes closed. The chant of Royal blood, the chant of his ancient line, ran calmly through his mind.

  Finally, after three cycles of the words warrior bound, the Gods spoke. The quiet and serenity of prayer filled him and pushed away the chaotic anger. The answer was clear. He had to let her go. This was the law. He had to formally give her the option to leave. It was only right. He wasn’t a fit mate. His Bride didn’t know that she’d mated with a fallen warrior. A future with him wasn’t a bright future for a female.

  He should never have touched her or kissed her, let alone released his seed in her womb.

  Her taste, her scent—it brought him to his knees. He’d never understood the mating bond, never felt sexual hunger or a hard cock or an orgasm before today. When he’d checked Kia with his Hunter suit he’d noted that she was not only aroused but in her Breeding Cycle. A female Xylan in her Breeding Cycle caused a male to become irrational with mating lust. When a Bride was in her Breeding Cycle couples were allowed to mate immediately. This was customary, otherwise the female was left in pain and discomfort. He’d needed to take care of her. But…he’d started his line last night when he’d claimed his Bride. He’d always assumed he’d never have a line. He was no role model for a son or daughter. But it was too late. The biological impulses of his body had taken over and done their job. His new Bride was filled with his offspring; that spark of life had already started.

  He snarled and slammed a fist against the floor, the calm of prayer dissipating at the flood of rage that choked his throat and filled his mind.

  His offspring.

  Because he’d filled a female with his seed in an unlawful ceremony, a mating that would soon be under review, his offspring would be deemed optional. A spark of life easily extinguished because it was not started correctly in the first place.

  The Scales of Xylan Law clearly stated that a life formed without honor was no life at all.

  He’d claimed her on the bank of that river. She’d fought hard, more like a Xylan female than a human. He had the bite on his chest to prove it. His claw went to the mark on his chest. He felt the wound, pleased with the depth of his female’s mark. The computer had recorded their mating ceremony; everything had been done with the proper ritual. He’d made sure of it. He may not have wanted a Bride, but he would never treat his female with anything other than the respect she deserved.

  Deep breaths. His chin met his chest.

  He performed the ritual absolutions. Waking chant entered his mind. He followed its familiar pattern, letting his mind go, giving up his troubles to the gods, offering his worries and his cares to a greater power than himself. He was but one warrior. The gods would help. They always had. This was his respite, his care, his grounding force that got him through all that happened in his life. He had no line, no family compound to dwell in, no manager…nothing. He knew not where his father, his mother or his brother resided. He was not allowed a Bride or offspring of his own. He was a warrior alone in the universe…

  Kayzon routinely prayed three times per planet rotation.

  The gods did not care that his father was Banished or that his scar ran deep. He walked beside them and he dwelled in their inner sanctums. The multigods brought him the gift of peace and serenity. They took his anger, his guilt, his frustrations and most of all…his shame…and they crushed those burdens like soft metal.

  Kayzon took deep breaths.

  The gods had shown him the true path toward personal honor.

  The meditation ran deep. His mind wandered to the past, the present, the future. He relived old hurts and created paths to absolution and honor. Finally, the gods threaded through the troubles of the present.

  His Bride.

  And the decisions he would make, the words he would use became clear.

  He would offer her an opportunity to go back to New Earth and her family. The offer of review and possible d
isavowal would be made formally.

  She was human. She’d mated him only because he’d accidentally forced mating compatibility on her.

  According to the Scales of Xylan Law, whenever a mating compatibility was forced, this meant the female was given the option to break the claim, and if there was offspring, to discontinue the pregnancy. She would be able to decide for or against termination. If she went back to New Earth without him, termination of their offspring would be the only option. A Xylan warrior of his line, with royal pigment, could not be raised on a planet of humans on New Earth, amongst species who did not understand Xylan biology or customs.

  He would give her the opportunity to stay with him as his Bride and continue their line, or termination and passage back to New Earth. No matter how much the thought of his offspring being terminated gutted him and brought him to his knees, this was only fair according to the Scales of Xylan Law.

  A lump formed in his throat. No matter what happened he would never think of his offspring as a mistake. He would mourn its loss for the rest of his short life.

  Because, of course, when given the choice of review she would choose disavowal and termination. This was clear.

  Yes, she had agreed to the marriage ceremony when she ran. But had she known it was a ceremony? Had she known she was agreeing to take his seed and carry his offspring? Carry the offspring on an unworthy warrior?

  He bowed farther, his head bent, and prayed harder.

  Kia awoke.

  At first she smiled, because thoughts of last night flittered through her mind. Of a battle-hardened warrior who had taken her virginity. She grinned and wiggled her ass, loving the residual feeling of soreness between her legs. That stamp of possession. The place where his hard cock had pounded against her and all the pleasure that resulted. Warmth blossomed in her stomach at the thought of how he’d chased her in the forest and the river, how he’d thrown her to the ground and claimed her.

  His tongue in her pussy.

  Wow. Wow. Wow.

  Just amazing, epic, the most beautiful thing that—

  Then images of her hungry and desperate family exploded within her mind.

  She gasped and sat up, pulling sheets over her naked chest.

  This wasn’t her bed and she wasn’t at home. What time was it? How long had she been gone?

  Oh fuck.

  She closed her eyes and pursed her lips and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and looked around the room. This was his quarters. The Xylan warrior she’d had sex with last night. It was small. She was sitting on a bunk that would barely fit the both of them. On the other side of the room was a table with benches on either side, built into the wall. There was a dresser with drawers, a cabinet and two doors. One door looked like the exit. The other she desperately hoped was the bathroom.

  The man who’d taken her virginity on the side of the river lived here. This must be his ship. Her belly fluttered. She bit her lip. Last night had been an epic battle. He’d chased her and conquered her, and she’d made him work hard for it, using all her considerable strength, and he’d still won their wrestling match and brought her to the ground. It had been the best experience of her life. She’d been able to be herself. Hold nothing back. And he’d taken it all. Just thinking of his overwhelming power, of his cock pounding into her pussy, caused the area between her thighs to throb with heat.

  He was stronger than any man she’d ever known. She suspected he was stronger than even her father. And that was saying a lot.

  He’d saved her from the Hurlians. And they’d fought back to back when the soldiers had poured from the sky. Then they’d chased and fought again in the forest. The way he’d treated her roughly…she’d loved every minute. She glanced down at the bruises of his fingerprints on her body and smiled at the display of his possession.

  But where was he? This mystery man who’d saved her life, kissed the hell outta her, tranqed her and taken her away to that forest. Was she really on his ship? Were they even still on New Earth?

  But first things first. She had to pee.

  Kia stood up and tugged the top sheet off the bunk in order to wrap it around her and tie the top together. She walked over to the other door in the room that she hoped was the bathroom, delighted when the door opened and inside there was an object that looked like a toilet. But it was the brightest, most technologically advanced toilet she’d ever seen. She spent some time playing with the multitude of buttons and chose a heated seat and for it to play a bit of dark Xylan music while she used the facilities.

  Hilarious.

  Then finally it hit her and she looked back at the toilet, at the tiny symbols written in the Xylan language, which she had been able to read. She’d understood him last night, too. In the market he’d been speaking English, her language. But last night the ritualistic words had been Xylan and she’d understood it all. She frowned. He had to have implanted a translation device in her head, right? Weird.

  There was a nice shower in the bathroom, too, but she didn’t really need it. She still felt perfectly clean. She stopped to examine herself in the mirror. She was fine. Still clean.

  She remembered that she’d bitten his chest.

  Oh gosh. What had possessed her to do that? She hadn’t held back, she’d let him see all of her. Her strength had still been no match for his. Back on New Earth she had to be careful, she could hurt somebody. But this warrior had been turned on by the strength. He hadn’t been gentle either, not in the least…and she loved it.

  Last night was just so crazy. So awesome and yet so strange at the same time. She wanted to see him to talk to him about it, but at the same time she was nervous to see him. And maybe a little embarrassed.

  No, she really did need to see him. Her mom would need the currency that had been in her pockets when she’d left that morning, plus the addition of her weekly pay from her job at the marketplace. Without that, her family could literally go hungry. And who would be there to protect them if the unigod enforcers arrived unexpectedly?

  The door swooshed open.

  5

  Kayzon expected to find her asleep in his bunk, and instead his new Bride was standing in the middle of his cabin with a sheet wrapped around her naked body, dangerously close to exposing her nipples to his hungry view.

  He took a step back, rocked by the instant lust that slammed his body.

  They were both quiet. He stared, trying to decipher her thoughts. Her flat features held more expression than a Xylan face. The grooved ridges of a typical Xylan female were gone, allowing more movement, and her black eyes sparkled with definition. Her lips were softer and her teeth were small. But that gap in between her two front teeth still mesmerized him. He loved it when his tongue brushed against her teeth. The way she tasted.

  His cock was hardening again. By the gods, he had no self-control around this female. His whole life, he’d never felt this. He’d been around females of a variety of species and felt for them no more than he did for males. It was the same for everyone, a familial relationship, a co-working relationship. Never lust. Never.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  “I am Kayzon of Twenty-Six,” he answered as he strode forward, finding it impossible to stay away.

  She took in deep breaths, her cheeks pink, eyes bright. “Twenty-Six? Is that your last name? A number?”

  “I am the twenty-sixth Kayzon in my line.”

  Oh fuck. He could smell her arousal. Despite his rough treatment, his scar and cybernetic eye, she still desired him. This would prove more difficult than he’d anticipated. He closed his eyes for a moment.

  A warrior without honor has nothing. Honor first. Loyalty second. Line third.

  “Oh…I am Kia Cho.”

  He opened his eyes and stared back at her, his lips a hard line. “I know. I apologize that I will not be able to give you the special nickname a warrior gives only to his Bride, but there appears to be no way to shorten your name, it is already very short.” He had no idea w
hy he was speaking of this. She was his temporary Bride. She might desire him, but when she found out the truth, of course she would choose to terminate their bond, their offspring. Why implement the special customs that existed between mated pairs? It would only bring more pain.

  “Okay.” She was staring at his lips.

  His double hearts raced in his chest.

  “Is there a nickname you would like to give to me?” he asked.

  Her gaze was now upon his chest and dipping lower. “Um, no…”

  He tried to hide his disappointment. Although, why was he still speaking of this? This was ridiculous, this talk of nicknames. She would not be on his ship long enough for it to matter. He wanted the very thing he should not want. He was the weakest of warriors.

  She tugged the sheet up higher and shook her head. Her chin lifted, and she met his gaze. “What happened yesterday?” she asked, her forehead making tiny ridges that were adorable. She sat down on the edge of the bunk and tightened the sheet around her breasts and looked up at him. “I don’t understand. I remember seeing you in the marketplace. You were dragging your target through the crowd. They were parting for you. I tried to talk to you, but you told me to go away.”

  “Yes I did.” If only she’d listened to him. “It is not appropriate to address a warrior without bowing your head in deference, formally signaling request for an audience.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s how I was supposed to ask, like you’re some kind of god?”

  He frowned. “I am not a God. I am Xylan. All beings behave with deference when approaching a Xylan warrior.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes.”

  She crooked an eyebrow. Her forehead curved again into those tiny Xylan-like ridges, which were insanely attractive. Somehow, her brazen disobedience of Xylan customs only inflamed his lust. He shifted, feeling his cock growing hard within his trousers.