The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8 Read online

  The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8

  Michele Mills

  The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8

  One touch is all it takes…

  Warning: Each story in this sci fi romance series contains a never-before-touched, seven-foot-tall alpha alien Bounty Hunter who remains unmated until the moment his bare claw accidentally clasps the palm of the human who is about to become his Bride. Each warrior is shocked to discover a female from this rare species is his fated mate.

  Get the complete Alien Bounty Hunter series in one location! The prequel, three novellas, five full-length books, an extended epilogue and a series Glossary:

  Kroga’s Bride

  Rayzor’s One

  Joyzal’s Prize

  Kayzon’s Wish

  Syrin’s Mate

  Zhoryan’s Game

  Daxon’s Hostage

  Kroga’s Redemption

  Want more Xylan warriors and stories with characters from New Earth? Try these spin-off series: The Swirl, The Fever Brothers and Monsters Love Curvy Girls!

  Copyright © 2021 by Michele Mills

  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.

  Cover artist: Meljean Brook

  Editor: Aquila Editing

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Kroga’s Bride

  Kroga’s Bride

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Glossary

  Rayzor’s One

  Rayzor’s One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Joyzal’s Prize

  Joyzal’s Prize

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Kayzon’s Wish

  Kayzon’s Wish

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Syrin’s Mate

  Syrin’s Mate

  Author’s Note

  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

  Epilogue

  Zhoryan’s Game

  Zhoryan’s Game

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Daxon’s Hostage

  Daxon’s Hostage

  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

  Epilogue

  Extended Series Epilogue

  Kroga’s Redemption

  Kroga’s Redemption

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Also by Michele Mills

  Kroga’s Bride

  Kroga’s Bride

  One moment Melachine is crossing the street, and the next she’s crashing into the male of her dreams. He’s built like a warrior of old, with the most perfect lips imaginable. And he won’t let go. She stares up, up at him in awe, because she can see her unborn offspring in his harsh hazel eyes.

  “I am Kroga of Seventy-Five,” he rasps. “Who is the manager of your line?”

  Her eyes widen. Should she tell this male who she is, and allow him to offer for her hand? Or should she run away? Because, everyone knows Kroga is nothing but trouble…

  Copyright © 2019 by Michele Mills

  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.

  Cover artist: Meljean Brook

  Editor: Aquila Editing

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Chronos, House of Ulmath

  “I can’t believe you said yes to Kroga. He’s such an asshole.”

  “What?” Melachine sputtered, trying not to laugh at her sister’s ridiculous assertion. Yeriana was sitting next to her, helping her dress and prepare for mating compatibility testing with the mysterious Kroga of Seventy-Five. And she wasn’t helping matters at all. Melachine put her makeup down and narrowed her eyes at her older sister. “What are you talking about? He’s the most imposing warrior I’ve ever met. And he’s not an asshole!”

  “He is!”

  Melachine exhaled and picked up a clasp to fasten to her robe. She turned and leaned into the mirror as she pinned a piece of sparkling jewelry to the red fabric on her shoulder, trying her best to ignore Yeriana’s outrageous statement—because Yeriana always made outrageous statements! Her sister didn’t trust anyone beyond her own mate and her immediate line. Over the years, Melachine had heard her rant like this, numerous times about other Xylan. Of course, her sister wouldn’t like Kroga at first, this stood to reason. “Just give him a chance. It always takes you years to feel comfortable around anyone new and to—”

  “No!” Yeriana twisted her lips, dark eyes flashing. “I’m not the female who cried wolfbane! This is some real shit! You need to listen to me.”

  Melachine let out an impatient snort. She turned and gave Yeriana her full attention. “Okay,” she responded, doing her best to keep her voice neutral. “I’m listening.”

  “Kroga isn’t like the other males you’ve tested with. Those other warriors were properly vetted by the House of Ulmath. But, you just met this warrior, like, yesterday,” her sister ranted. “I cannot believe you managed to talk our parents into allowing this testing, but you did. None of us knew anything about him or his line, so of course I did some research, because what if this testing actually proves positive?”

  Melachine did her best to keep her face impassiv
e, hiding the spark of joy that flared within at the thought of being bonded to this unknown warrior. This male none of them knew. It was crazy how strongly she felt for this male. Right? Crazy.

  “So, I asked around,” her sister continued, “and I found out our cousin Juzan once worked with Kroga when they were stationed together on Chronos Minor and he refuses to ever work with him again, he says Kroga is a monumental asshole. Tayzon knew Kroga, too, and he agreed with that label.”

  “They did?” Oh no.

  Yeriana nodded. “Merzan doesn’t like him either; says Kroga is a hothead.”

  Her eyes widened. “Merzan? Merzan said that about Kroga?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  Melachine exhaled. Damn. She trusted Merzan implicitly, he was like a brother to her. “But…that’s only a couple of warriors, maybe this is a matter of a clash of honor.”

  “Hmm…I thought that might be the case, too, so I asked around at the Imperial Academy.”

  Melachine tensed. The Academy was the training ground for all Xylan Warriors. Yeriana had recently mated with the President of the Academy. As the President’s new Bride, she was bound to get good intel on Kroga’s past. Melachine took a deep breath. “And? What did you learn?” she asked.

  “When he was a youth, Kroga was kicked out of the Academy for insubordination. Even after he was reinstated there were three suspensions on his record. But nothing since. As an adult, Kroga has a reputation for hard work and getting jobs done. But he leaves the battle often with no honor allowed for the opponent.”

  Melachine’s eyebrows drew together. This stung. “No honor for the opponent?” she squeaked. Even while winning, Xylan allowed opponents to save face and retain honor or no peace would be possible. This was the first tenet of the Honor Code.

  Yeriana leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Yep. No honor for the opponent. None.”

  Melachine took deep breaths, trying to remain calm, because now she was really worried.

  “I thought you should know before you went through with the test,” Yeriana said.

  “Ugh.” Melachine stood up, smoothing her clothing, not sure what to do. “Maybe he is an asshole…”

  “Oh, he’s definitely an asshole…” her sister muttered. “You can still cancel, you know. You don’t have to go through with it.”

  Melachine cursed. She stopped fidgeting with her clothes, and sat back down. What was she supposed to do?

  She’d met Kroga only the day before, in the financial district, near the statue of the Fallen Champion—while walking swiftly across the square and squinting too hard at her tablet. Suddenly, she’d collided with a very tall warrior. Basically, the largest male she’d ever seen. He’d had a torso like a tank and she bounced right off of his chest and nearly crashed to the ground. He grasped her arm and yanked her up a nanco before she hit the pavement. But he pulled with such force, she was propelled directly back into his formidable body. And then their chests ended up pressed together, their lips a breath apart.

  And her eyes had widened in awe as she’d stared up at him.

  He was the most handsome Xylan warrior she’d ever met. His warmth against hers—even through layers of clothing—was basically the best moment of her life. His lips were utter perfection, sharp fangs peeking out. She’d met his dark gaze and swore she saw her unborn offspring in his bright hazel eyes.

  “Who are you?” he rasped.

  “Melachine of Eighteen,” she answered, breathless.

  “I am Kroga of Seventy-Five.”

  “Oh.”

  He hadn’t released her arms and she hadn’t tried to break away. They continued to stand unnecessarily close. She inhaled his pleasant male scent, staring at all that was him.

  This had never occurred in her life, being so close to an unmated male. Xylan were taught from a young age to never touch another unmated Xylan. Touching of bare skin to bare skin, especially the clasping of hands, which held the most mating receptors, could possibly initiate testing of mating compatibility. Forcing of mating compatibility was strictly against the Scales of Xylan Law. In fact, in order to avoid this terrible occurrence, she was wearing the requisite gloves of the unmated, as was Kroga.

  Since puberty, Melachine had scrupulously avoided skin-on-skin contact, and here she was, so close to this massive warrior she could climb into his skin and take rest. He was fascinating. She could stare at him all day. Through three layers of clothing she could still feel the welcome heat of his taboo touch.

  A growl rumbled in his chest. “Who is the manager of your line?” he demanded.

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She knew what this meant. This stranger had decided on the spot that he wanted to ask for her hand to test mating compatibility. After only having met her for five seconds on the street?

  No. Way.

  In rare situations like this, when a stranger unexpectedly initiated the idea of compatibility testing, Melachine usually fumbled a quick “no thank you,” to the questioning male, which was awkward, but necessary. Her line was very demanding and warriors who were unaware of her powerful lineage could be in for a world of shame. And to avoid loss of honor for the male, she’d perfected the art of deflecting compatibility requests.

  But she’d never been asked this quickly, by a male she’d known for mere seconds!

  She continued to stare at him, flooded with uncertainty. Why didn’t she feel that instant need to deflect?

  His eyes narrowed with focused intent. “Female…?” he rumbled, waiting for her response.

  She opened her mouth, prepared to deny this male, like she’d done to all the rest. But for once in her life, she led with intuition and did something totally selfish, without thinking through the consequences—she gave a complete stranger the correct answer, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away. “The manager of my line is Rabline of Thirty-Eight of the House of Ulmath,” she answered.

  “House of Ulmath…” he muttered. His nostrils flared.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I know.”

  Melachine was born to an ancient, esteemed line of Chronos and her family held great wealth and power. Other males of equal caste and royal pigment usually asked for her hand by going directly to her manager for confirmation. In this way Melachine had performed the mating compatibility test in twelve other instances, and each time was grateful when the conclusion proved false.

  But, really, there was only a small segment of warriors in Xylan society who were high enough caste, and with enough bravery in their two hearts to try for her hand. Walking through the massive double doors of House Ulmath was not a task most warriors would contemplate, which was depressing. Her pool of candidates was small, and she often wondered if she’d be left without a mate and offspring.

  Her eyes roamed over Kroga’s perfectly hewn features. His proud nose and high cheekbones. Royal pigment deep as ancient night. And the thick threads of silver that lined the honor ridges on his forehead. His gleaming bronze and black hair hung in immaculate braids down his back. An Imperial Military insignia of high-standing flashed on his chest.

  His line might not be heavy with currency and power (if he was, she’d already know of him), but just looking at him she could tell his lineage was obviously old Xylan, traceable to the original fires of Chronos. Even if he did not bring great wealth or power to Ulmath, he would endow their offspring with exemplary genetics. Her parents might find this acceptable. She knew they, too, worried she’d never find a mate. “Try,” she whispered. “The House of Ulmath will accept you,” she urged.

  “You know this?”

  “No, I don’t,” she admitted.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “But I still want you to try,” she gently insisted.

  His hard eyes softened. His finger moved softly against the fabric of her arm. “Tomorrow,” he grunted.

  “Tomorrow,” she’d agreed.

  And then he let go and marched away, his giant form blending with the crowds and finally disappeari
ng. She’d watched his retreating back, hoping this warrior would actually follow through with his declaration.

  And then he had… The very next day Kroga had boldly walked through the imposing doors of House Ulmath, along with the Champion and substitute Manager of his line and they’d bargained for her hand.

  Melachine stood up and walked across her suite to the open window, looking out onto the elaborate gardens of the Ulmath family compound. The image of the warrior’s harsh features remained etched in her mind. He’d stared down at her, as if she were the two suns, the moon and the stars…