Trading Teon

by Reagan Hawk

  Trading Teon (The Beast Masters Series)

  Reagan Hawk

  Trading Teon © Copyright 2012 by Reagan Hawk

  First Electronic Printing November 2012, The Raven Books

  Cover art by Natalie Winters, © Copyright 2012

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Reagan Hawk.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence.

  Published by Raven Books

  www.ravenhappyhour.com

  Raven Books and all affiliate sites and projects are © Copyrighted 2004-2012

  Trading Teon (The Beast Masters Series)

  Reagan Hawk

  The Beast Masters Series, Book 1

  Garon and Lorne, shapeshifting males of the Ralenium race, are fierce guns for hire in the universe. When a cargo ship transporting women charged with crimes by the Galactic Star Union arrives on their planet, the men make the traders an offer they can’t refuse. Planet Ralen is sorely lacking in women, and the males have an inborn desire to dominate, to tame females and to reproduce. When their inner beasts’ clocks start ticking and the burning need to spread their seed consumes them, they go on the hunt for the perfect female. Too bad both men want the same woman.

  Teon, a lady with a place in high society, thought life as she knew it was over when she was wrongfully charged with a crime by her stepmother. A prisoner en route to a barren planet to serve her sentence, she’s presented with an opportunity to start over again on the planet Ralen. The catch is she has to be willing to be claimed by two males. Not just any males mind you, two burning hunks who are ready to fight to the death if need be to share her bed.

  Warning

  Novella contains graphic language, light BDSM play/themes, extreme alpha male shifters who cannot wait to get a collar on their female to brand her as theirs for life, women willing to submit and scorching hot sex scenes. If you don’t like strong men who take control in the bedroom and sometimes out, or if you’re in the market for long, drawn-out plots, this isn’t the series for you. This novella is hot and dirty and won’t apologize for that fact.

  Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a how-to book or a manual to the BDSM/fetish lifestyle. It is merely meant to be read and provide a mental escape for your enjoyment. Always practice safe sex and never enter into BDSM play without proper knowledge and understanding of the lifestyle and a trained, trusted practitioner to guide you through it all. Serious injury or death could result from improper BDSM/fetish play. Safe, sane and consensual (SSC) is a must. The Raven Books and its authors, owners and operators are not responsible for any injuries or death that may occur from improper use of techniques or information found within this document.

  The Beast Masters Series

  Trading Teon

  Securing Sara

  Rescuing Reya

  Capturing Clara

  Binding Bree

  Chapter One

  Garon of Ralen neared the outer quadrant’s guard tower. The path to it was well-worn, unlike some of the other paths on Ralen. Regardless of how used the path was, the forests of Ralen were known to be fast-growing. The huge, deep blue of the leaves of the talium tree were starting to turn yellow on the ends, a sign of the season change coming upon them. Soon the area would see temperature drops. And soon enough the primal heat would be upon many of the men.

  Garon reached the tower and ascended the staircase. He entered to check in on the guards stationed there. They’d reported a craft on radar, and since no crafts were scheduled for arrival it had raised a red flag. Ralen wasn’t a planet offworlders dared to arrive at without proper protocol. The Ralen warriors were known to blow things out of the sky first and ask questions later. They were a proud, fierce race. A race known throughout the galaxy.

  He leaned over one of the males to survey the screen and grunted as he spotted the shape of the vessel nearing their orbit. Cursed stars. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.

  Lorne, a seasoned warrior and trusted friend, entered the guard tower. “I heard we have visitors. Any news on who or what they are?”

  Garon tapped the screen. “Looks to be a salvage ship.”

  “Or traders,” said Lorne, disgust evident.

  None of the men were too keen on the salvagers but traders weren’t much higher on the like scale. Both were basically pirates of the skies and tended to deal in goods that were too hot to touch. Since Ralen boasted a planet of fierce warriors, they were often left untouched by the Galactic Guards—free to do as they pleased.

  “Sir,” one of the men seated at his station said. “Should I alert the planet-to-air defense team?”

  It was on the tip of Garon’s tongue to say yes, but he held back. He glanced to Lorne. “It’s been too many moon cycles since we last had a shipment of women. Think it could be some?”

  Lorne worried his jaw and then tipped his head, his long, blond hair falling over one shoulder. “Perhaps. We could allow the vessel to land and see.”

  Garon nodded in agreement. He touched the man’s shoulder at the station. “Open the landing platform two.” He looked to Lorne. “It would be wise if an armed team greeted the vessel.”

  “Of course,” replied Lorne. “Jaston and his men are on duty now. I’ll send them.”

  “Perfect. Tell them we’ll meet them there.”

  Garon, Lorne said, using the mind path common to their kind. If women are aboard…

  I know. I will see to it any price is paid.

  With that Lorne pivoted and left the tower. Garon remained long enough to watch the slow descent of the vessel upon the screen before him. From its sluggish movements and shape he was fast beginning to suspect it was Voxenites, a race of opportunistic bottom feeders who did whatever they had to in order to turn a profit. They’d taken to human trafficking hundreds of years ago and little had been done to stop them. Truth was, planets such as Ralen depended upon them.

  Ralenium males far outnumbered females, and nothing the men did lured women willingly to their planet. They were simply too far out on the edges of the quadrants to offer any appeal. They weren’t proud of the fact. It was what it was.

  “Sir?” the man at the station asked. “Is it traders? With women?”

  There was no mistaking the note of hope in his voice. Galen patted the younger warrior’s shoulder. “Let us hope. Stay and man the station. Should it be traders with women, a summons shall be sent forth.”

  The other guards shared a look with the young one. Garon knew hopes would be high and he hated to dash them. The men needed something to look forward to.

  He left the tower and made his way down the path in the direction of the landing bays. The outer force field was in the process of retracting. Its opening would be timed perfectly with the vessel’s landing.

  While they had technologies, some of the finest in the galaxy, they preferred to do many things the way their ancestors of old did. They did not use any type of craft for surface travel on their planet. They preferred to use their shifted beast forms or that of domesticated animals. It was kinder to their planet.

  They’d seen too many planets fall victim to their own advancements to want to see the beauty of Ralen snuffed out.

  He spotted Lorne with Jaston and the team of Ralenium men all armed and surrounding the landing pad. They stayed back a safe distance, already knowing what would come next.

  There was a flash of red light, and then a popping noise signaling the main control tower was now in control of
the vessel’s power and its system. There was no chance the vessel could fire upon them this way and zero chance it could leave without permission.

  Lorne motioned to Garon and then pointed to the vessel’s side symbol.

  As Garon suspected—Voxenites.

  If they came bearing anything other than women, they would find the men ready to hang them by their scaly, webbed feet. None of the Ralenium men thought much of the Voxenites. They were a means to an end. Nothing more.

  The ship sputtered to a stop, its engines cutting out with a loud groan. Garon sighed. If the ship refused to start back up, there was no way the traders would be welcome to stay until it was fixed.

  Garon moved with a quickened pace in the direction of Jaston and the other on-duty guard team. Jaston nodded and then hurried into the main control center.

  If their suspicions proved true and the ship carried women, then it was a joyous day. If not, then the security team needed to be prepared. One never knew what one might encounter this far on the edges of the galaxy. Often the area was looked upon as lawless. Often it was.

  Garon left the landing bays and entered the main control center and found Jaston near the monitor booth. The relays from the outer towers were no doubt reaching the main control center. Jaston glanced up and made eye contact with Lorne.

  “Does Garon have orders?”

  Lorne took a deep breath. “He does. Be prepared with your men and ready to greet our visitors.”

  “Of course,” answered Jaston, his expression knowing. He relayed the message to one of the men closest to him and then covered the distance between him and Lorne. Jaston lowered his voice. “Traders with females?”

  “Garon thinks perhaps it might be.”

  Jaston’s jaw set. He nodded and stepped away.

  Lorne knew the warrior would show no signs of hope. He knew Jaston was too seasoned to ever let on to his true feelings. All the men were desperate for more women to arrive. This wasn’t news. It was fact. None would risk getting their hopes up. Not yet.

  Chapter Two

  The ship thundered and then sputtered to a stop as it landed. Teon pushed at the rusted walls of her cell, frantically looking around, wondering when the slave traders would come for her. She was no fool. She knew what they were. They weren’t true Galactic Guards. They may have the badge and weapons, but under it all they were slave traders, pure and simple. Her hands, long since bruised and cut from the conditions of her cell, bled more as they scraped over the rough walls. She whimpered, the bite of pain a harsh reminder of her living conditions.

  At least she was clean finally and out of the rags they’d been keeping her in. The traders had forced all the women into one large bathing chamber where they set about decontaminating them.

  Her lips curled.

  They wanted their goods clean and presentable. She’d been wrongfully accused of a crime, whisked away on a ship to be sent to a correctional facility in the far reaches of space, and then, before she reached her destination, her holders made a stop, selling her and so many of the other woman to the slave traders for nearly nothing.

  Teon lowered her gaze. She could cry. The tears were there, ready and willing to fall but they’d do nothing. She knew. She’d shed enough already to no avail. The clothing she was in barely qualified, and by her people’s standards she was nearly naked. She was a lady. Not some street walker. Even the harlots who worked in the pleasing dens on her world dressed in more material than the slave traders had her in. The material was sheer, allowing others to see her nipples and her sex. They’d shaved the hair from her pussy, leaving only a strip of it down the center. They’d cleaned the hair from her legs and armpits as well.

  One of the traders appeared. His head, very fish-like, was totally lacking in hair. They always wore masks of sorts unless they had tiny metal clips over the tiny holes where a nose should be. His eyes were slits and often his cheeks puffed out, reminding her of puffer fishes of old from Earth. He and the others like him sickened her. It wasn’t their appearance. She was used to non-humanoids. It was their mentality that revolted her. The fact they made a living in the most deplorable way—by slave trading.

  “Come,” he said, the word drawn out in something of a hiss as he waved an electric prod at her. She’d been poked with it and shocked more times than she could count. As far as they were concerned, she had a bad attitude and she knew they’d be looking to unload her cheaply. That worried her. She wasn’t a prize in their eyes, and that meant she very well could end up in the hands of even worse universe trolls.

  She followed him as he led her down the long, dark corridor. She spotted several other female prisoners and their gazes met. The women looked terrified. She was too, but only to a point. Life on the prison planets was no life at all. She’d heard the horror stories. She’d seen the transmission sent out when the prison planets culled their populations—often allowing races who fed upon humanoids to come and “enjoy the buffet”. Even being sold into the sex-slave industry was an end more desirable than a prison planet. Everyone knew that.

  She shuddered.

  The trader shoved Teon out the exit-bay door and she stumbled. He caught her by the upper arm, his grip iron-clad, sending pain radiating through her. She knew better than to whimper or show any more signs of weakness. They’d exploit it.

  The other women, from all over the universe, were led out as well. The traders gathered in a group, leaving the women on their own. Teon was sure some of the women considered running, the hint of freedom too much to resist after being held captive for so long, but with the electronic shackles they wore, they wouldn’t get far before enough energy was charged through them to stop their hearts for good. She’d heard tales of limbs being blasted off during escape attempts. She wasn’t sure how much of that was true or simply tales spun to strike fear in the galaxy, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She liked her limbs attached as they were and would certainly prefer her heart continue to beat.

  Teon’s breath caught as she stared around at the sights presented to her. The planet was unlike any she’d seen before. She’d been off-Earth a number of times but none of the planets she’d visited were as visually stunning as the one she now stood upon. The trees were massive with blue leaves so dark they were nearly black in places, and oddly colored yellow tips. Everything seemed bigger here. More grand in every way, including color.

  Sensing the flight risk of the others, Teon motioned for the women to come closer to her. They did. “If you run, they’ll send bolts of charge through your shackles. It will kill you.”

  They shared a somber look and then nodded. The ones eyeing outer areas stopped and focused on her. She knew then their likelihood of running had just slimmed. Good. They didn’t need to lose any women because of fear or stupidity. She pressed a comforting smile to her face. “I’m Teon.”

  Many of them relaxed somewhat.

  She looked them over for signs of injuries. Some had bruises. Most looked underfed and scared. Life hadn’t been kind to any of them. The galaxy wasn’t exactly fair on women. Far from it. While she’d been privileged, she’d been educated—too educated for her own good some had said. She knew how harsh planets on the outer quadrants were. She knew even on her home world, where the elite reigned supreme, women lacked the same power men held. She sighed. Life was more than likely only going to get worse for the women who had become her forced traveling companions, and soon.

  This is better than the alternative, she reminded herself.

  It was strange to have actual ground beneath her feet again. She’d spent months aboard a starship, locked away, unable to even see out a window. It had been all too easy to lose track of days, weeks and months. Had she not been sneaky and tried to learn some of her captors’ native language—which was based loosely off one of the many she’d been taught by high-priced tutors growing up—she’d more than likely still not know how long she’d been held prisoner. It wasn’t as if the men holding her did anything on a regular basis. Even mea
ls were scattered, few and far between.

  Rusted metal walls had been her only view, and company aboard the ship didn’t exist. The other female inmates who were in transit to the nearest Galactic Corrections Facility were kept locked away from her, their company coming only in the form of their voices through the walls. Voices that had become a lifeline of sorts to her. Friends without faces. Friends learned by listening to them describe themselves, their wants, their desires, their fears. She wondered which woman was which as she looked them over. It would take them speaking to know, for she only knew them from the sounds of their voices.

  She wasn’t sure what each woman’s crime was, but she suspected that, like her, they were bogus charges. She was “guilty” of turning down a prominent council member from Earth, her home planet. Her stepmother had wanted more credits in her account, and the way she got them was by bargaining sex with Earth figureheads. And while her stepmother had normally been the one to pay what was due, she was ageing and the men wanted someone younger. When the price for her stepmother’s actions had come due, she offered up Teon. The council member agreed to the change of terms, but Teon hadn’t. She hated her stepmother, hated everything the woman stood for and everything she did. When Teon refused the council member, he’d framed her for crimes she’d never committed,—saying she’d solicited sex from him and that he’d then caught her orally pleasing two other men for coinage. Lies.

  Here she was, officially a criminal and on her way to life on a barren planet.

  She was now a commodity to be traded to the highest bidder. Her first clue she was to be auctioned as a sex slave came when her captors had robots enter her chamber, bathing her, shaving her body hair clean away and then styling her hair in a strange fashion. When she’d protested, two of the guards reacted. She was no match for them physically, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying. Now her face and her body bore the bruises to prove as much.