Mate for the Feral Barbarians

by Scarlett Grove

  Mate For The Feral Barbarians

  Celestial Mates

  Scarlett Grove

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About Celestial Mates

  About Scarlett Grove

  For updates on Celestial Mates books CLICK the image above.

  Copyright © 2016 by Scarlett Grove

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  1

  Kimmy Simms-Earth Girl

  Tonight had to be the worst date in the history of the world’s worst dates. It ranked up there in at least the top ten. I should know, too. I’ve been on at least three of those top ten. That’s right. I, Kimmy Simms, have been cursed with the world’s worst dates.

  After slipping out of my too-expensive-for-bad-dates pumps, I trudged into the kitchen and flung open the freezer. Thank God and everything that’s holy that I still had a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia left in there.

  I might have died otherwise after a night like tonight. I grabbed the pint and a large spoon and headed to the living room. There had to be some soul food, good girl wronged, Lifetime TV movie on television right now. For my sanity’s sake.

  I picked up the remote and clicked on the TV, flipping through the channels until I saw the sweet sight of a glittery romcom made just for me.

  I groaned with relief and peeled back the lid of my ice cream salvation, and shoved a huge spoonful of creamy goodness into my mouth. Once I was placated by full fat cream and sugar, I was ready to reflect on my evening from hell.

  First, the guy, who was supposedly the ‘gentleman’s gentleman’, had showed up for our date at the seafood restaurant twenty minutes late.

  I’d already partaken in one too many glasses of wine by the time he’d arrived. My limit on dates was usually one, and I’d already had two. What else was I supposed to do while waiting at our table like an idiot? If not for the wine menu, I might have just left.

  And believe me, I should have.

  So when this ‘gentleman’s gentleman’ arrived, I was feeling pretty good. But the second he laid eyes on me and sat down, he gave me a look like he’d been deceived.

  “You looked much thinner in your profile picture,” he said.

  That was literally THE first thing this d-bag said to me. Granted, the picture was from two years ago, and yes I’ve put on a few pounds, but you would too if you worked where I work.

  Anyway, after blowing off his rude statement and ordering another glass of wine to go with my fettuccini, I tried to save the evening, for some reason.

  “You said you’re in sales,” I said to him over my third glass of merlot.

  “I’m the owner of Hank’s Used Auto down on fifty-third.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen your ads on television. So funny,” I said with a laugh.

  He hadn’t mentioned it in his profile, but I guessed he was afraid he’d be swamped with ladies who got all wet over used car salesmen on dating websites.

  He looked a lot like Hank from the ads but a lot less like the svelte man I’d seen on his profile. Hank was definitely not six feet tall. And he definitely did not have a full head of hair.

  When the waiter arrived with our meals, I hungrily twirled up the fettuccini noodles in my shrimp alfredo and shoved it in my mouth. I was starving. Talking to assholes does that to me.

  “I can’t get over how different you look from in your picture,” he said again, cracking his lobster claw like a pansy.

  His wrists were thin and his fingers were long and bony, which didn’t make sense, considering he had a sizable paunch. Is it possible to be fat and skinny at the same time? Well, if it is, this guy was pulling it off quite well.

  “You look different too, but doesn’t everyone? It is online dating after all,” I reasoned. One of us had to be mature at this point.

  “It doesn’t matter as much for men. But women really should be honest about what they have to offer.”

  “Really? And what do you have to offer, Hank?” I asked, sipping my dwindling glass of wine.

  “I own Hank’s Used Auto down on fifty-third,” he said again, indignantly.

  “And that’s supposed to impress me how?” I asked.

  “I make a good living. And from the look of your fake jewelry, I make a much better one than you.”

  I just sat there stunned for a minute. Had he really just said that? I put down my wine glass and took another bite of shrimp noodles. At the very least, I was getting a free meal out of this. That’s worth a little humiliation right? That’s what I told myself in that moment. I hadn’t eaten all day. And maybe I would have been able to continue to convince myself of that, if not for what happened next. Hank stood from the table, throwing his cloth napkin on his empty plate.

  “I won’t be manipulated by a woman,” he growled at me before storming out of the restaurant.

  I turned around and watched him walk out, my mouth hanging open. I kept telling myself that it did not just happen, but alas, it did indeed happen.

  The waiter walked over to me, slipped the bill folder on the table and gave me a look that told me he wanted me to leave.

  Clearly, I’d overstayed my welcome so I opened the folder and peeked inside.

  It was over a hundred dollars! Granted, I’d had three glasses of wine by that time, and dinner, but Hank had managed to order the most expensive item on the menu and then stuck me with the bill.

  I groaned as I slammed my credit card into the bill folder and dropped it on the table. The waiter came back to take it, giving me a fake smile. I just glared at him with my arms crossed.

  I left a ten percent tip. Screw him. Right? After I got my card back, I grabbed my coat and purse and stumbled out into the night. I hailed a cab and wiped away an errant tear in the corner of my eye. As I was riding home, I got a text on my phone and turned on the screen to see it was from Hank!

  “Sorry for running out. I’d still be willing to sleep with you if you’re interested.”

  What?

  What is wrong with people? I screamed in the back of the cab and the driver slammed on the brakes in the middle of traffic.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked in a thick accent.

  “The world!” I groaned.

  The driver huffed and started back down the road. He didn’t know the half of it. The driver dropped me off at home, and the only thing I had to salve my wounds was my Ben and Jerry’s.

  Thank the lord for Ben and Jerry’s.

  I took another bite and savored the flavor. I was still a little tipsy from all the wine, but at least my stomach was full. Even if I’d had to pay for it myself.

  My boss had insisted I work through lunch and by the time I got home there hadn’t been time to eat before my date. Then I’d had to sit there for twenty minutes subsidi
ng on baguette until d-bag Hank arrived.

  Watching the romcom on Lifetime, sent from the angels, I finished off my pint of Ben and Jerry’s and was feeling a lot better. I grabbed my laptop and woke up the screen. It opened to my social media page.

  I didn’t have any new notices.

  “Survived the date from hell,” I posted.

  I got two likes within a few minutes. One from my mother. Why did she always like my posts when it was bad news? I’ll never understand that.

  As the romcom on TV lagged through a silly middle, I scrolled through my social media page. Posts of my best friend from high school’s new twin baby girls were plastered all over my feed. I groaned. It wasn’t that I didn’t like babies. On the contrary, I loved them. But how was I supposed to get my own when I was doomed to go on the world’s worst dates? I wondered if maybe I should give up trying, but something in me wouldn’t let me.

  I scrolled past post after post of adorable babies, hoping I would come across a recipe video for some new, crazy dessert. Instead, I came across a picture of the hottest man I’d seen in a good long time. He had a dark blond beard and long blond hair. He was leaning up on his elbow on a grassy green lawn. The blades grew up around his shoulders. The look in his dark eyes spoke of unknowable primal secrets as they gazed out at me from the screen.

  I bit my lip and groaned like I’d tasted something delicious. His broad muscled shoulders and strong, taut chest made my mouth water. When I finally read the caption over the post, I realized it was one of those quizzes that tells you if you’re an orange person or a green person. Or what Harry Potter character you are.

  What does your ideal mate say about you? I clicked the hell out of that post and brought up the questionnaire.

  The first question was a pictures of several different men. Each one was just as swoon worthy as the guy from the first page. Except these guys didn’t look altogether human. They had the same general anatomy as human men. I could tell since most of the men were wearing very little clothing.

  I had four to choose from. There was a dark brown-skinned man standing in a desert oasis. His chocolate skin gleamed in the bright sunshine. His tall, lean body was roped with taut muscle and he had a patch of fur on his chest that was indistinguishable from the long beard on his face. He wore a loincloth and a robe around his shoulders. Behind him were strange-looking trees like prehistoric palms, and some kind of technologically advanced dome house.

  It was all so incredibly strange. The next picture was of a pale blue-skinned man, with solid muscles. He was in a cave full of luminescent blue crystals. His feet here hooved and his legs were covered in shaggy blue fur, which did not fully hide his startlingly big blue package. My eyes popped out of my face at the sight of it.

  Holy moly!

  I could have clicked away, but something in me just couldn’t. I looked at the next option. Decisions, decisions.

  The image showed two tall, indigo blue skinned men with blue-black hair. They smiled at me through the screen, showing sharp canine teeth. My mouth formed an O as I looked at their magnificent bodies. Talk about gods on Earth. Except they weren’t on Earth. They were in some kind of jungle. It wasn’t like any jungle I’d ever seen. Everything seemed so strange and foreign. The leaves didn’t look right on the strange trees. The men had dinosaur-looking creatures tied up with harnesses.

  Ignoring the strange environment, I went back to admiring the marvels of these indigo men. They wore loincloths and their bodies looked to be covered with bulging muscles.

  They looked tall, maybe six and a half feet or taller. They had broad shoulders and narrow hips, but their physiques were solid and strong. They looked like football players, or bodybuilders. Heavyweight types in prime physical condition. They looked fast and lithe too, like they might be just about as fast as their dinosaur mounts. I could see it in their tight, developed calf muscles.

  I bit my lip, wanting to click them as my choice, but I had to check out the fourth option.

  When I looked, I flinched backward. The man in the picture didn’t even look like a man so much as a creature. It was about two feet tall and had a massive round head in relation to its tiny body. Its huge black eyes stared at me with utter emptiness from a pure white room in some kind of spaceship.

  Gross.

  I clicked back to the jungle hotties and clicked on their picture.

  The rest of the test asked me to choose between different eyes, different colors, different landscapes, my favorite drink. I was eager to know what this weird quiz was all about by the time I came to the results page. Instead of my results, it asked me to agree to the “terms and conditions” and then asked for my email address as verification.

  I was way too curious to object at this point. What were those alien dudes about? And what does my choice of an ideal mate say about me? I keyed over to my email account and refreshed to load my newest emails.

  Finally, the email from the quiz arrived, and I opened it. A video of the two jungle men came up on my browser, showing them running through the jungle after a cow like creature. One of them threw a spear and the other one jumped in the air and turned into a massive panther right in front of my eyes. They took down the cow, and then turned to the screen.

  “We’ve taken down the Muchoo beast for you.”

  “Come join us at the feast.”

  My mouth dropped. Another popup came onto the screen.

  “Would you like to meet to Konko and Vock? Click yes to talk now.”

  I inched my cursor toward the yes option box. Of course I wanted to talk to them! This was too good to pass up. Konko and Vock huh? What were they, twins? I laughed to myself. Where was this going to take me, a dating website? I’d been to every last one and each was a bigger wasteland than the last. Maybe I’d have some luck with these space barbarians.

  I chuckled and clicked yes.

  What happened after that, I could reasonably be considered insane for relaying, but it’s the honest to god truth. I wouldn’t make this up, even after three glasses of wine.

  Two very chubby and very adorable cupids popped out of thin air over the top of my computer. They wore white sashes across their chests and privates and had tight curled golden blond hair. I gaped at them and pushed my computer off my lap, scrambling off of the couch like it was on fire.

  The cupids turned to me as I ran toward the door.

  “Konko and Vock are waiting,” one cupid said.

  “All agreements are final,” said the second.

  “What the fuck?” I said, just as I was popped out of existence.

  2

  Konko-Zimbre Warrior

  As we rode through the jungle, I glanced over at my twin brother Vock. He and I had been the best of friends and closest of allies since the day of our birth. Those long years ago when the worlds of the Zimbre had been peaceful and orderly. When there were enough females among us for every male to have his own bride.

  I reined in my Kong beast as a flash of light exploded ahead on the trail. The entire jungle lit up with a furious light. From the center of the explosion came two beings, the likes of which I had never seen before in our lands.

  The tiny humanoid creatures had pale pinkish skin and curly yellow hair. They looked just like winged babies. There was a name for these creatures in our mythology. We called them cupids, the Angels of Love. The ancients said they brought fated mates together, no matter the obstacles.

  The cupids wore sashes over their sex organs so it was hard to tell if they were male or female. The strange creatures moved toward us, their bright blue eyes smiling as they crossed the distance.

  Our Kong beasts pranced nervously and I held tight to the reins of my mount to keep him calm. Vock was having the same problem with his own mount. Our reptilian beasts growled and snapped at the flying little cupid creatures as they came to a stop overhead.

  "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, slamming my fist into my naked blue chest in a signal of aggression.

  Vock l
ifted his spear and aimed it at the creatures.

  "There is no need for violence, gentlemen," the first cupid said, his yellow curls shimmering around his cherubim face.

  "We are agents of the Celestial Mates Dating Agency," said the second cupid.

  “We’ve come to offer you mates."

  "To replenish your clan."

  "And to save the world," the first one finished.

  I sat dumbfounded on the back of my Kong beast. It gnashed its sharp teeth over its bit and continued growling at the little humanoids flying above it. I held my reins tight and squeezed my thighs into my mount’s back as its mottled reptilian skin grew taut over its tensing muscles.

  "What about mates?" I asked.

  "We can bring mates for the tribe. But we will bring the first mate to you, gentlemen," the cupid said.

  "We have the same mate?" I asked. It was a Zimbre custom for twins to mate with the same female. But with so few females in the clan, we were left without one.

  "Indeed, you have the same mate, and we will bring her to you. Then we will bring more females for the tribe. But first, you must defeat the sky devils who plague your land and make it impossible for the Zimbre people to flourish," the cupid said

  "You want to help us with the scourge of the sky devils?" Vock asked.

  My brother and I looked at each other and then back at the angelic babies flying above our heads. We had never experienced such a strange thing in our lives. The day-to-day existence of a Zimbre warrior was hunting down Cocoche birds, singing and drumming at the festivals, and carrying out the will of our chief, as was expected of a warrior. Since the sky devils had come, we no longer had the females needed to carry on. Our numbers were dwindling and the warriors lacked women. We wanted mates and we wanted to bring an end to the sky devils’ domination of our world.

  “What can you do to help us?” I asked.

  "We have codes that will activate the ancient weapon under the temple," one of them said.