Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  Resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, to separate herself from her abused skin before it got decidedly... worse, she met his multicolored gaze. Unblinking, in spite of the inhuman sounds echoing from the next room.

  “Aww, no fight?” he asked, widening her feet with a kick that matched the rhythmic drum of fists on flesh. “It’s no fun if you don’t give a little.”

  With a shrug, she said, “What’s the point? Going to die young, might as well enjoy it—if I can.”

  At this, he paused. Head tilted to the side, fist wrapped around a meaty appendage the girl couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with. Pumping. “A challenge, huh? You’re a bit strange for a breeder.”

  Sending the pad of her thumb over the blade to test the edge, she smiled, watching what could pass for his carotid artery pulsing away beneath his jawline. “So I’ve been told.”

  A bellowed curse made them both jump, pulling Blindspot’s mismatched gaze away from her face.

  “Bugger me, you little shit!” came the strained cry from the dark. “That fuckin’ hurt—oommph!” With a crash and a groan, the savage beating of a not-so-helpless prisoner escalated, dissolving into unseen chaos.

  Perfect.

  Left arm flashing, she seized her chance, letting her bladed hand fly through the blind spot. With a comparatively tiny snarl of her own, she slashed as high as she could reach, missing the damaged eye and only just managing to open a thin blue slit above her most recent assailant’s collarbone.

  “Huh. No arterial spray,” she said, watching clear fluid ooze from the wound as he staggered back. Dropping her, both massive blue hands wrapping around the wound. “I was expecting arterial spray.”

  Whirling, he fixed bulging, mismatched eyes on her face. And lips pulled back, his jaw dropped—only for a hideous rattle to come hissing from his new orifice in place of speech.

  “You’re right! I must not have gone deep enough.”

  A massive blue palm landed flat on her chest, pinning her to the wall with a dull thud and grotesque, wet snarl. Echoing the chaos from the dark.

  But she was far from finished. Teeth bared, she let the blade sing once more, nicking the underside of the arm trapping her. Drawing a deep, jagged line in foreign muscle, for if she was to die here—too young and for nothing—she wasn’t going alone. “Ah, there we are,” she breathed, bathed in a wash of sticky warmth that had nothing to do with the heat beginning to bunch low in her abdomen. “I’d apologize, but...” She shoved him back, the sound of his massive body hitting the floor announcing her triumph. “I feel it would be rather ingenuine at the moment, given what you just tried to... well.” She lifted her shoulder, gracing the slack, shocked face of her escort with a crooked grin. “I’m not sorry, is all.”

  From the dark, an animal screamed. Pain and fury rippled through the air, only to be silence a moment later by a sickening crunch.

  “That’ll be my cue,” she said, and turned, swiping at the fresh layer of filth coating her skin. Pretending she couldn’t feel the flush spreading across her skin as the second dose of Felidae heat took hold.

  Before she had taken a single step, blue fingers were buried in her hair, yanking her head back so hard she saw the secrets of the universe written on the back of her skull. And for one still instant, she met the mismatched gaze of her assailant-turned-victim and knew death.

  With a wordless, reedy snarl, he hurled her into the dark one-handed.

  She landed with a yelp at the edge of the light, tangled in a pile of discarded matte-black chains. Watching her scalpel bounce off the cold, concrete floor as her victim crumbled, it was all she could do not to check on the other lest she draw attention to it.

  “The fuck you throw her for? Told you I don’t want a corpse.”

  Forcing her eyes up, she met the startled gaze of a familiar, if bloodied, face.

  The first half of her escort tossed a limp body into the corner, asking, “Are you alive, breeder?” Nudging her with the tip of a grimy boot, the first spat a mouthful of shattered teeth onto the floor and prodded what looked suspiciously like a bite mark high on his shoulder.

  Inching toward the glint of silver, the human gasped, every muscle below her navel clenching in sudden, desperate need. Even as she clawed her way to the exit. Sobbing, trying to claw her way back to the light and ignore the aches and bruises littering her pathetic form.

  “Seriously. If you were done with her, could have just—holy shit!” the first exclaimed when he saw the mess that had been made of his partner. “What happened to you?”

  But Blindspot could do little more than flail, scowling into the dark. His hands pressed to human-made wounds.

  “Unbelievable!” the first hollered, laughing as he stooped to gather his fallen comrade, everything in the dank cell forgotten. “You got taken down by a breeder? Never going to live this down.”

  “Wait—” She staggered to her feet, trying to follow. “Please. Don’t leave me here.”

  Leaning on his partner, Blindspot scowled—and slammed the door shut, plunging the battered little human into near absolute darkness.

  Chapter Five

  Trapped.

  Alone in the dark with a monster who had the potential to rut her to death, of all the inelegant, ridiculous ways to die, for in spite of how morbid the thought, her core fluttered. Weeping for a monster who could hold his own against her massive escorts, wounding them time and again. Taking a literal bite of his abusers while supposedly helpless and imprisoned... even...

  Helpless. He was helpless as long as he was wearing the suppressors—wasn’t that what Blindspot had said, right before she and her blade had rendered him speechless? And wasn’t the throbbing in her lower back courtesy of a hard landing on a pile of discarded chain? Chain the big blue idiot had left behind the instant he’d gotten a look at his other half.

  “And they say romance is dead,” she whispered, forcing herself to hands and knees. Swallowing the panic with a smile, she backtracked, turning her eyes away from the tiny square of light marking the door. Straining to see anything beyond the tip of her nose, she swept her hands in a wide arc, searching in the dark. Night blind. “Come on, you fuc—yes!” she cried, fingers connecting with a length of cold metal.

  A low, wet groan came from the other side of the room, and she froze, staring into a square green shadow burned into her retinas. Heart pounding in every centimeter of broken or bruised skin, the panic enough to bypass the rising tide of heat. How? How could he possibly be waking so soon? The beating he’d taken would have been enough to keep any man down for at least an hour.

  But he wasn’t a man. He was a monster with a brutal appetite for things she couldn’t comprehend.

  Immobile on all fours, she closed her eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the dark. Sending a prayer into the ether—even though she couldn’t recall exactly who she was supposed to be praying to.

  Her cell mate let out a ragged breath, then was mercifully still once more.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she pressed forward with a whispered thanks, pulling her battered body to the chains. Fingers still clumsy with the lingering effects of Kallp’s venom, she traced the metal, counting three thick bands that made her skin tingle with a certain familiarity. A shock collar, perhaps? Something to keep the prisoner harmless as he wore them? For a moment, she paused, considering as she traced the largest band. At the joining of chain to collar were three tiny screws. Or pins. Not impossible future technology, then, regardless of the voltage running through the metal and no obvious source of power.

  Any advantage they could offer was secondary to their potential to save her life.

  She heard nothing more from the unconscious Felidae aside from the rhythmic, wet breathing of a patient with what may be a punctured lung. Though she was no expert. Not here with this menagerie of new species to contend with. Dragging the chains behind her, she crawled toward the sound, getting as close as she dared before opening her eyes.

  It w
asn’t much help—she could make out a little of his form. A pair of arms, legs, and eyes, all located in the ‘right’ places as far as her distant medical texts were concerned. In the dark, he could easily pass for human, barring the fact that he was anything but little. Little to her escorts, perhaps. Little compared to Kallp and his perpetually hungry mate, sure. But next to her?

  She shivered.

  Even restrained and helpless, this little Felidae princeling could break her into tasty human crumbs. No matter that he’d hate himself for it in the end.

  A wave of heat clenched low in her belly, driving her forward without a thought for the consequences—at least until the chains clattered to the floor, and her heart all but punched through her chest.

  But, aside from a hitch in his breathing, the Felidae didn’t move.

  Teeth bared, she searched the immediate area for something to secure the chains to, nails biting the meat of her palm. Using the tiny flash of pain to drown the unnatural lust. Ready to jerk her weapon to the fore, should the need arise.

  Killing a man at his most vulnerable went against everything she could recall about herself, but under no circumstances would she submit to a rutting beast. Still, she scanned the dark. It wasn’t his fault—they were both prisoners here. Both fighting to escape as best they could. Better to give all that ferocious power a purpose, if she could. Better to keep her options open and as numerous as possible, for death had the pesky habit of being rather permanent.

  And there, above the supine body, her salvation was taking shape. Revealing itself to her poor night vision with each passing second. Embedded in the wall and illuminated by a dull red glow, was a ring thicker than her wrist and higher than her shoulder.

  “How—” She wrapped cold fingers around her throat, palming the invasive talking spider and the warm gem, both.

  The light went out.

  She moved her hand, immediately caressing her surroundings with a dim red haze. Glowing. The spider was glowing. Kallp had given her a night light.

  With a grin, the human rushed to the ring, moving with reckless abandon. Unconcerned with making noise enough to wake him, in favor of expedience. Given the choice between spending time undetermined with a corpse or having a vicious, bloodthirsty ally to aid in her escape, she’d pick the latter. Gladly.

  Stepping over the warrior, she found the midpoint between chains and manacles, took a breath, then hefted it above her head with a grunt. Trembling under the weight. Cursing. Trying to push the ring off the wall far enough to pass the chains through.

  The Felidae shifted, something hot brushing the back of her calf.

  “Shitshitshit,” she hissed, and shoved it through with everything she had.

  Landing with an ear-splitting crash!, the chains spilled over the ring. Striking the Felidae, who jerked, eyes flashing open.

  “Whatthefu—” His nostrils flared, massive pupils reflecting the soft crimson light.

  Dropping to her knees, the human seized the largest circlet, a fist full of thick, coarse hair, and wrenched his head off the concrete. Snapping the collar shut before he’d had the time to blink.

  He snarled, spine bowing, wrapping a clumsy hand around her thigh while clawing at the metal with the other.

  Shifting, she grit her teeth and braced a knee on his solar plexus. Near to straddling his smooth, hot skin. Naked, just as she was. Adrenaline gave her strength enough to jerk his hand away from the collar, secure the first manacle about his wrist, and ignore the fingers tightening around the meat of her upper thigh. Strength enough to ignore the tip of something hot and hard swelling against her backside, calling to the part of her wakened by drugs and lies.

  “Just relax,” she whispered, voice as soothing as she could make it, even as she fit the final manacle in place. “There. That wasn’t so bad.” Gracing the dazed warrior with a toothy smile, she patted his chest and tried to stand.

  With an ease that spoke of unconscious strength, his fist tightened, fingers burrowing into muscle. Bruising fat.

  Using her leverage, the human spared him nothing. Rearing back, she dropped her elbow into his cheek, giving herself to gravity so the blow might land with enough force.

  He grunted, blinking as the human rolled away.

  “Sorry about this,” she said, rising on unsteady legs. Backing away with hands outstretched. “But you know how it is. A girl has to get to know the person she’s been locked in a box with before there can be any talk of experimental hybrid offspring, or whatever—”

  The Felidae lunged, closing the distance between them in one fluid burst of impossible speed. Seizing her wrist in spite of the chains. In defiance of his injuries and crackly, wet breathing.

  Stumbling, the human screamed, throwing herself in the opposite direction, letting her weight carry her beyond the radius of his tether and through the narrow beam of light dividing the room. But her arm stayed behind, wrist locked in unforgiving grip. Only for an instant, but it was enough.

  Her shoulder wrenched, the joint popping as bones were jerked from the socket. Cold sweat spilling down her back as she landed on the concrete, breathless.

  The Felidae snarled, digging at his collar with both hands, even as he threw all of his strength into reaching her. Muscles taut against pale, broken skin, eyes reflecting a demonic red glow, her cellmate growled deep in his chest. Erection thick and swollen. Obscene. Straining toward her.

  But it was his tail—puffed up and lashing—that finally tipped her over the edge into blissful unconsciousness.

  Chapter Six

  It wasn’t the pain that woke her. Or the cold eating away at her extremities, bit by bit. And neither was it the unnatural arousal gripping her sex with plump, needy fingers, filling the air with an unmistakable scent and leaving her ass cheeks slick on the cold concrete.

  It was the peal of raspy, guttural laughter that jerked her from the bliss of unconsciousness. Replacing the potential for sweet dreams with reality’s nightmare.

  Cracking a bleary eye, she let her head roll toward her cellmate, finding nothing but two pinpricks of red glaring at her from across the room. Demonic. She shivered, jostling her shoulder and the ligaments stretched out of joint.

  “I admire that,” she rasped, letting her eyes drift closed, sprawled out on the concrete. Unconcerned with what he could or could not see of her nudity and the chemical lust pooling beneath her. “L-Laughter in the face of almost certain doom? Breaks up the tension.”

  There was no response, no sound from the darkness. Not even the wet, crackly breathing.

  “Mind the laugh lines, though,” she whispered. “They’ll age you.” Prodding the deformed joint with her functional hand, she found what was most likely an anterior dislocation. Relief, such as it was without proper imaging equipment, flooded her taxed system. Should be easy enough to return all her bits to the right spots, so long as the cold hadn’t seized the muscles too badly. Long as there weren’t little shards of bone floating around in the dead space, waiting to severe arteries or ligaments.

  With a groan, she tugged at her limp arm until her elbow was a happy ninety degrees from her ribs, back flat on the floor. And then, taking a deep breath, collected her wrist and lifted, rotating the forearm around the bicep until her fingers pointed to the ceiling. Going past ninety, ignoring the scream of stiff muscles demanding she stop, curl into a ball, and snarl at anyone who came near.

  Pop!

  The joint submitted to her gentle plea, sliding home and sending a cold sweat to pepper her skin—only then did she acquiesce. Curling in on herself. Rocking, she hugged the compromised limb between her breasts, pulling a lock of filthy hair free from her deadly hairdo. Careful to keep the scalpel in place, she tangled her fingers around the hair, taking the weight off the joint when she was ready to stand. A custom sling.

  She rolled to bruised knees, taking a moment to swallow the nausea, then scooted back. Pressing her spine against the cold, damp stone wall to ward off the wave of dizziness. Unable to tel
l if the room was indeed spinning, or if it was just the hastened approach of her demise wearing the guise of brain damage and oxygen deprivation.

  Either way, an adventure.

  “Pathetic.”

  A startled bark of laughter burst from her lips. “Yeah? How so?”

  But the darkness merely sneered, glaring crimson.

  Teeth gritted, she forced herself to a stand, scraping her back raw in the process. Welcoming the pain for its ability to mask everything else. “And here I was, congratulating myself for a successful shoulder reduction when I can’t remember what my bloody name is.” Not bothering to wait for a response, she turned toward the door and the tiny patch of light, hyper-aware of the eyes glued to her nakedness as she hobbled.

  There was no handle. Nothing to scrape away at with her hidden blade. Nothing to pry loose and no hinges she could knock the pins from. “I presume this is the only exit?” she asked, moving away from his corner, fingers trailing along the wall as she went. Searching.

  He matched her, step for step. Silent, but for the slightest tinkle of chains on concrete. A hunter stalking prey.

  That he was tethered was of little comfort, what with her blood thick with hormones and her thighs glistening in the dim light. True, she hadn’t seen much of him, only the barest hint of lean muscles and a tail—of all things. But it was enough. Enough to know it wasn’t a human pacing her in the dark. Enough to know she should deny the urge to pass through the narrow beam of light dividing the room and get some naked cuddle time with her own personal demon.

  She stopped, one hand useless and tangled in her hair, the other feeling damp walls. Guiding her through the dark. Blending the slice of pain with the chemical demand throbbing in her nethers, forcing herself to stop at the perimeter of his chains.

  She was an intellectual, if her spotty memory could be trusted. Denying him would be an easy feat of mind over matter. Nothing more.

  “How often do they let us out?” she asked, meeting that fiery glare. Composed. “When do we get fed? How often do we bathe? Or toilet? What about water? Surely they don’t expect us to shit in the corner.”