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

  She smiled.

  For once in her life, she’d met a male who didn’t want to test compatibility with her simply because of who her family was or how much currency her line controlled. He’d met her and had instantly wanted her for her. And that was precious.

  And, he’d been brave enough to barter for her hand.

  She turned around, decision made. “I am going through with the testing,” she announced. “I don’t know if it will prove positive, but I have to give this male a chance.”

  Yeriana rolled her eyes. “Damn.”

  2

  A quarter cycle later Melachine stood next to the hypnotically handsome Kroga of Seventy-Five, at the stone Breeding Altar in the Hall of Ulmath, hoping her judgment had been sound.

  Her fingers fidgeted with her robe as her eyes passed over this familiar setting. The females of her line had performed mating compatibility tests here for a thousand years. The curvaceous stone columns that held up the domed ceiling of the altar were worn and smooth with age, the eroded steps echoing with the significance of the females who had come before her. Every time Melachine entered this hallowed sanctuary she could sense the enormity of that past, the heady weight of thousands of previous positive matches. And the crushing blow of her own previous negative outcomes.

  Melachine wore the customary red robes of her line and Kroga dressed in gleaming black Imperial Military armor.

  Kroga had brought two warriors from his House. Meanwhile, fifteen members of House Ulmath, including her father, mother, and brother, stood next to Kroga’s representatives. The crowd clustered together at the base of the steps to the altar, waiting to hear the verdict.

  There was the customary silence and bowing of heads. Then the multigod priest began to intone the ritual clasping language. Melachine followed through with the ceremony, performing the time-consuming gestures and pronouncements, singing the breeding chants and partaking in the blood-letting.

  Afterwards, she dipped her hands into the basin that held the water of eternity and washed the crimson flow from her claws, closing her eyes for a moment.

  Was she ready?

  All of the other males who’d requested compatibility testing before were warriors she’d known, males who were part of the closed community of ultra-wealthy and powerful Xylan she’d been raised amongst. But Kroga was different, he had zero connections outside of the Military and no wealth. When the managers of both of their lines had consulted, it was agreed that Kroga’s House and line had nothing to offer except the promise of strong genetics.

  It was just very different, testing with a male who was essentially an unknown. A leap of faith. What if this time the testing was positive? What if this audacious male who had gone through the bother of requesting for her claw was actually her mate?

  Her eyes blinked open. What would it be like to actually have a mate?

  The last blessings from the multigods were given, and the priest stepped down to join the crowd of witnesses. Melachine glanced at Kroga. They were now alone on the altar, as was customary.

  She took a deep breath, ready for the most important part.

  A drum beat intoned, alerting them to the first step. Melachine moved forward at the same time Kroga did and they both took their places on opposite sides of the clasping stone. She looked up and met his gaze. He was so tall, so brilliantly handsome in his ceremonial armor. The silver in the honor ridges on his forehead winked in the flickering candlelight.

  And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about what Yesenia had said about this male’s possible lack of honor. It ran through her mind in loop, a thought that worried like a sharp pebble stuck in the heel of a boot.

  She had to say something before it was too late.

  “I was told that most of your companions in the military think you’re an asshole,” she announced boldly.

  He returned her stare, his black eyes twinkling with good humor. “It is true,” he answered truthfully, with no retreat in his tone. “I demand the best of my Legion and do not value excuses. For many, this can be challenging. And also, I have heard that you are a female of worth who is known for her blunt honesty.”

  Wait, he’d checked on her?

  Well, he knew her foibles and he was still here, wasn’t he? And, if this testing proved positive he’d have to deal with it, because she wasn’t changing. Melachine leaned forward. “In your pursuit of excellence, you do not allow others to save face?” she hissed.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes the honor of others becomes secondary to my goals.”

  Secondary to his goals?

  She pursed her lips. Another drum beat intoned the second step. They both kneeled before opposite sides of the flat surface. She stared into Kroga’s hooded eyes and licked her lips. She’d performed this ceremony countless times before, but those were nothing like this. Those males requested compatibility testing through her manager because it was their duty, or in order to upgrade their level in society. Therefore, the ceremonies had felt perfunctory. Her line had always been excited to discover the outcome, but she’d always glanced at the males across from her at the clasping stone and felt…meh.

  But this time carried enormous weight. This time seemed real.

  And she never chatted with the warriors who’d knelt with her. Everything had always been so serious, and each warrior had obviously been more worried about his performance than the actual outcome of the ceremony.

  But today, every thought she had was flying out of her mouth!

  “You cannot ultimately win in life if you do not allow other warriors to retain their honor,” she lectured. “In the end this will come back to bite you.”

  “Huh…” he answered with genuine interest. “I appreciate your counsel.”

  She blinked. He did?

  She lifted her chin. “My sister insisted I cancel this testing.”

  “I understand,” he admitted. “My father and brother also think I am unworthy of you.”

  Her lips twitched. Her family had felt the same way. It had taken a full diurnal cycle to talk her parents and brother into allowing this testing. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think I am grateful for the opportunity to test compatibility with such an esteemed female.”

  She rolled her eyes at this vague, politically correct response. “No, really, how do you feel about this testing?”

  The third drum beat sounded and they both reached forward and placed their elbows in the grooved slots, their claws almost touching.

  He stared deep into her eyes. “I believe you might be the only Xylan who will always tell me the truth I need to hear,” he said. “Which is exactly what I require.”

  Warmth spread across her chest. She would be happy to spend her life keeping this impressive warrior in line, it would be her honor.

  She glanced down at her family and back up again at Kroga. “Can you handle this?” she asked. “Can you handle them? The House of Ulmath chews up and spits out doubtful warriors.”

  He smirked, lifted his opposite hand and flicked his claws. “Bring. It. On,” he answered.

  She threw her head back and laughed, delighted with his arrogance.

  And then the final drum beat sounded, and they clasped hands.

  3

  Kroga held her palm like a stone vise, his large claws wrapping entirely around her smaller hand. That wide chest expanded and contracted with great breaths. His nostrils flared, and his eyes somehow became darker and more intense.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at his stunning transformation. Was this it? Was it happening? Her eyes darted back to their joined hands and then again at Kroga, watching his reactions. Was this what it looked like, a male reacting to his Bride? He was somehow bigger and more menacing than before. Power radiated from every pore. His neck corded and sweat began to bead off of his honor ridges. And she wanted nothing more than to lick and score his dark skin.

  Each time she’d held the claw of the other males it had been boring.


  Cold and Clammy.

  All that build up for nothing. Years of anticipation—wearing gloves around unmated warriors and then when she finally, finally was able to touch the skin of another male, it was anticlimactic. Like touching stone. But this time when she touched Kroga’s bare skin, it was hot as lava. And it felt like home. He’d covered his claw with hers and immediately she felt the sizzle of their skin joining into one.

  She grinned with delight.

  And then she noticed her own unfamiliar reactions. It started in her hand, at that spot where Kroga’s hot skin touched hers. At first it was a tingle, and then it grew until it suddenly exploded into a great ball of energy. Power and pleasure shot up her arm and throughout her whole system. She gasped at the sudden rush of adrenaline. The two hearts thundered in her chest and her entire body instantly misted with sweat.

  Holy gods!

  “My Be’Ih,” Kroga rasped.

  “It is a confirmed mating!” the Priest announced.

  The witnesses clapped and cheered.

  A roar rumbled in her chest. Melachine stared at her new mate, realizing she wanted nothing more than to run her claws over every part of his body. To taste, and wallow in his essence. She needed him inside of her. The need to score his skin and make him bleed was intense. The mating frenzy had started, torching her body with a flood of hormones.

  She stood suddenly, and roughly grabbed for her male.

  Kroga reciprocated, pulling her in close, his arms instantly around her, like bands of steel. In two seconds she had her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth. Those perfect, perfect lips had dropped on hers and it was the best moment of her life. There was no one else. Nothing else on Chronos, or the four sectors. Just the two of them. Her family, the priest, his line—they all dropped away. Her body was enflamed with her need for her mate.

  Her mate! Kroga was her mate.

  He tore his mouth away for a moment. “My Bride,” he groaned. Then his claw cupped her head, guiding as he leaned back down and took over the kiss. He was bigger and stronger which only made him that much more desirable. He tilted his head, moving his mouth against hers, his fangs tracking against her lips. She sucked his tongue, desperate for more of his taste inside of her own body. Their mouths fused together, their hands groping.

  And then suddenly it wasn’t enough. This was nothing but a mere kiss. Her nipples were two hard points of need underneath her robe. The area between her thighs that had long been dormant, was heavy and hot, slick with need. Breath burst in and out of her chest.

  She broke the kiss and pulled back. “Mine,” she snarled. Melachine used her claws to shamelessly tear off Kroga’s clothing. His chest plate clanked to the floor.

  “My Bride is in the middle of her Breeding Cycle!” Kroga shouted to the Priest.

  In a burst of new-found energy, she managed to lift and toss her much larger husband to the altar. His back hit the stone and she leapt on top of him, immediately clawing at his belt, trying to bare the delicious hard bulge she could see rising underneath his trousers. He growled and his arms wrapped around hers. He rolled her underneath his giant torso, pinning her down with his massive claws. She screeched in disappointment.

  “You are magnificent,” he breathed against her ear.

  She yelped with surprise as a tranq gun pressed against her shoulder, delivering a quick-acting shot.

  Witnesses gathered under the dome of the altar. There was a commotion as Xylan from both of their Houses worked to pull Kroga off of her. Her husband roared, but it sounded far away; in the distance.

  “Tranq him too,” a muffled voice screamed in desperation.

  And then she blacked out.

  4

  Melachine woke and pushed her long, dark braids from her face, immediately wide awake and ready for action. She sat up slowly and stared in admiration at her new surroundings.

  A claiming forest.

  And all the memories from their clasping came flooding back.

  That kiss. Oh, that kiss.

  The testing had proved positive. She’d been tranq’d and moved to a claiming forest. This was the only way an unmated Xylan would be allowed in this highly prized location. A huge smile spread across her face. But now, she was no longer unmated!

  Giant Xylantic trees jutted into the nighttime sky. Plush, damp grass brushed under the tips of her claws. The two green moons hung over head and stars sparkled above like the rarest of jewels. She’d heard tales from other mated females of the various claiming forests kept pristine around the planet for the express purpose of mating couples’ use during their claiming. Xylans who lived off-world used recreations of these original forests via holo decks. But on Chronos, Xylan used actual claiming forests that had been around for millennia.

  She took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of wood and cool nighttime air.

  Melachine sat up straighter, remembering that this claiming was being recorded so later, she and Kroga, and their extended line and friends, could watch and enjoy it during the post mating celebration. She needed to represent the warriors of Ulmath with the famed ferocity of her line, and at the same time she needed to make her mate proud with her defiance and strength.

  She grinned, ready to do both.

  A thunderous roar echoed in the forest. The trees seemed to vibrate with the sound of a Xylan male ready to breed. Holy gods…Kroga. Announcing his desire. Just the sound of his call made her pussy wet. She stood up, unfolding her naked body from the grass. Her fangs elongated, and her claws twitched, ready for battle.

  A dark form grew at the edge of the tree line. She sucked in a sharp breath.

  Kroga.

  He stepped from the shadows into the moonlight. Naked and gorgeous. His arms considerable forces of death and destruction. So tall, so enormous. She could stare at him for the rest of her life and never grow tired. He planted his feet in a wide stance. Her eyes roamed from his proud features, down his firm abs to the v of muscle that pointed to the glory down below. A beautiful, proud erection jutted forth from the juncture at his thighs.

  She licked her lips, dizzy with desire, sudden heat flashing through her system. Her core was slick with need. A buzzing and anticipation flooded her body.

  Never had she seen a naked male, and she stared at Kroga with all the pent-up longing of an unmated female seeing her ready-to-breed mate for the first time.

  She ached to breed with her new husband.

  Kroga began rasping the proper words of claiming, which bound them as mates. She listened to his ritualized words. Her own acceptance would be nonverbal. The chase was the acceptance. The joining of their bodies the acceptance. The flooding of her mate’s seed within her womb and the resulting start of their line…this was her acceptance.

  The final two words of the ritual were the most important. Finally, he announced: “Run, female.”

  This was her cue. She’d dreamed of this moment since she was a little warrior. The day she met her mate across the clasping stone and he chased and mated her in the claiming forest.

  She turned around and sprinted away, laughing. Her braids trailing in the wind behind her. This was literally one of the best moments of her life. Melachine jumped over a log and made a sharp turn around a tree.

  She could hear him chasing after her, his echoing footfalls tearing through the brush. He’d given her the customary head start, but now he was intent on taking what was his.

  Run, run, run.

  The breeding adrenaline rushed through her veins. She had to make this hard for him. Cunning counted in this instance. As well as strength. She ran as fast as her bare feet would take her, flying over a small stream and then back around the edge of a wide clearing. She ran fast and far, but no matter how hard her feet flew, she couldn’t lose him. He was there, in the distance.

  How could a warrior that large be so fast?

  His heavy footfall pounded behind her, growing closer.

  And then the dense maze of trees she’d been darting through opened up t
o expose a dead end. Melachine came to a panting halt before the base of a sheer cliff, a wall of rock that rose up before her. “Oh hell.” She stilled like a rapior and scanned the ancient forest, examining escape routes. Then she looked up at a massive Xylantic tree, its roots sewn into the hard ground.

  Of course.

  She scampered up the blood red tree trunk, gouging her claws into the bark, her muscles straining as she used her arms and legs to propel herself upward. It would be a perfect position to hide from Kroga and pounce on him when—

  And then a claw clasped her ankle. Melachine shrieked with anger. She jerked her leg, trying to dislodge him, and when that didn’t work, let out a sharp kick that caught Kroga in the chin.

  Hah.

  But he still held on, his grip unbreakable. Gods, he was powerful. Stronger than her, and she’d always been one of the strongest females on Chronos—over the years she’d proudly won fifty-two honor battles against females of similar size and weight at the Chronos Dome.

  And yet, Kroga easily pulled her off the trunk and tossed her to the ground. Her back slammed into the unforgiving dirt and she bit her lip, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth.

  “My Be’Ih,” he snarled.

  No. No. No.

  She could not make this easy for him. He had to work for it. Warriors expected to work for their claim. The harder, the better.

  She leapt up and slammed a fist into her husband’s face.

  His head jerked, and he grunted. Kroga turned, spit out blood and looked back. He bared his bloody fangs and narrowed his eyes at her. His great chest expanding and contracting with harsh breaths. He lumbered forward, his claws fisted.

  Oh hell.

  She stumbled back, because Kroga scared even her.

  “Enough, female,” her mate growled. “Playtime is over.” He reached out, grabbed her by the throat and threw her to the ground. He immediately fell on top of her, his knees in the dirt, pinning her underneath his enormous weight.