Alien Bride

Planet Ferän will suit him well.

All of us are naked, sprawled on the floor near the golden statue. Languidly, I reach out and grab a fist full of Emma’s ass. Groaning with pleasure, I wink at the bastard, Akron.

Emma stirs, but does not wake.

Akron frowns. “You kept me up all night.”

I grin and glance over at Emma’s face. She’s fast asleep, face red with fingerprints. We had a little too much fun last night, but when she didn’t stop, what were to do? Say no?

Fuck that.

I never thought I’d find someone like her. To an ex-soldier and freedom fighter like me, the ancient mating rituals of our race were just tales. Sex was not something that was sacred. It was a means to an end.

You breed and spread seed. That is the duty of an alpha, to carve out a diverse gene pool.

But with her, I feel different. My masculinity wants to own her, but I can’t. She is too precious to own.

The other alphas peek their eyes before yawning awake.

“Akron, our apologies for the night before,” Lök says.

Rekker chuckles. “He probably got off to the sounds,” he jokes.

Akron sits against the foot of the statue. We might have kept him awake with all our fun, but something else is clearly on his mind.

“What’s really upsetting you?” I ask.

“I’m broke,” he says, shielding one eye with his palm. He rubs his skin and leans back, sighing.

“I’m sorry about your bar,” Lök says. “But it was an unavoidable slaying. The sentinel wanted us dead.”

Akron shakes his head. “It’s not the bar,” he mutters. “I owed money on that thing, anyway. Empire tax regulations had me gutted. I thought I could work through it, but I spent last night going over everything in my head. I don’t think I could have done it. I was going under, regardless.”

Lök stands. “In a sense, we saved you.”

Akron’s lip twitches with disgust. “Yeah. Some fucking heroes.”

Rekker stretches his arms, but he’s so tired he falls back against the concrete. “How can we make it up to you?” he asks.

Akron looks more worried than ever. “I’m thinking maybe I should check out Ferän. How is it during the Fall season?”

My smile drops. “It’s Summer, all year long,” I say.

His nostrils widen as he inhales. “I love a good Summer,” he ponders.

Lök meanders to our bag. He pulls a water canister and drinks, sloppily.

Upon wiping the excess liquid from his chin, he clicks his tongue. “Ferän is Hell,” he states.

“Lök,” Rekker growls.

Lök shrugs. “I’m just being honest. It’s a planet that died long ago. Unborn. Rogue. Life shouldn’t exist there,” he says.

“But there’s gold?” Akron asks.

“We’ve got an entire bank of it, hidden away from the workers,” I say.

“The Lottery slaves,” Akron corrects him. “Should I assume they’re happy if the conditions are that terrible?”