Page 32 of Her Rogue Mates

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Almost.

It wasn’t the silver hair on multiple heads, like Blade’s, that made them look different to those on Earth. It wasn’t the too vivid, too bright colors of their eyes that made me shiver as I stood between my mates on the raised platform at the front of the room.

They were different. It was in the way they moved. The way their eyes focused with absolute, complete attention. Half the time, as someone from one of the various legions approached to greet me, I felt like I was being stared at by a caged tiger, or a mythical shapeshifter, something wild forced to exist in the flesh and blood prison standing before me.

With Styx and Blade, that wildness was intoxicating, sexy. But facing the others, the natural predator in these people, this strange alien race, flooded me with adrenaline as my instincts kicked in. The fight or flight response was automatic, and strong. And screaming just one thing…

Run.

But I wasn’t an animal, so I told my pounding heart and sweaty palms to shut-up and smiled like I didn’t have a care in the world. I knew Styx and Blade would let nothing happen to me. They’d keep me safe even from my wild feelings.

Despite the fact that a member of one of their legions had tried to kill me on Latiri, had ambushed my MedRec team, had leaped onto the transport platform ensuring his own death, none prevented me from doing what I was doing right now. Standing here. On Rogue 5. Alive.

And they were still out there. Whomever they were. Styx had said Ivar and some Everian Hunters were looking for the bad guys, but it had been a week. A week of me doing nothing but enjoying the attentions of two very hot, very skilled aliens. No, they weren’t aliens here. I was the alien. Yet they’d accepted me, even tattooed their skin and pierced their nipples for me. I was slowly weakening when it came to them. No, I was completely theirs. How could I not be? I couldn’t count the number of orgasms they’d given me. And the ways they’d done it? Wow.

I was ready for their bite and that scared me. I was ready to be bitten on the shoulders by two aliens I’d only known for a week while they fucked me at the same time. Yeah, I was crazy. Crazy in lust. Was I being brainwashed to forget my team? To forget what had happened to them, what was possibly being done to them all week long while I’d fucked with abandon?

While Ivar and the others were out hunting, I knew Styx had to play politics, had to stand around and chat with the other legions, perhaps learn things about why the group with the red armbands—Cerberus, they’d said—had gone after me. There was more than one way to get answers. This was more hands off than the Hunters searching, but we might learn something. And by the uncomfortable look on Styx’s face, I had a feeling it had less to do with the fact that he hadn’t come in the hallway than his dislike for parties.

And they’d given me an incredible orgasm. It had helped, a little. I wasn’t as nervous. Hell, I was like melted wax, pliable and soft. I just wanted this to be over, but until then, I smiled and nodded as I met them all. Savored the tingles in my girl parts from my mates’ eager attentions.

None were allowed to touch me. For that, I was grateful. Not that Styx or Blade would allow it. Only one had even tried, the older woman, the leader named Astra, and she reminded me so much of the overly protective, aggressive helicopter mothers who used to get too much bad press back on Earth, that I held out my hand and shook hers before I thought better of it.

Apparently, it was a big deal, maybe even a political mistake for Styx, because the room went silent when I did it. Maybe shaking hands wasn’t a thing on Rogue 5. Maybe it meant something different here like, “I hate you” or something. But Astra looked up from our joined hands into Styx’s eyes and nodded at him like some kind of secret was being shared.

Maybe I’d done Styx a favor?

I had no idea. I didn’t know these people, didn’t know their rules. I didn’t know who was friend, who was foe, or who he trusted. Who I was supposed to trust. Which, apparently, was no one. I, at least, knew not to trust those with the red arm bands. I’d probably have nightmares for the rest of my life about the one who’d had a hold of my leg. I felt like a fish out of water—a well taken care of, sexually spoiled, extremely satisfied pet, but still not one of them. I didn’t belong. I was the alien here, and I felt it in every bone in my body.

“Welcome, legions.” Styx cleared his throat and Blade’s hand came to rest on the small of my back. The size and heat of his touch were comforting and reminded me of what we’d just done in the back hallway. Styx stood slightly in front of me to protect me from those in the room. They both did that. Protected me. All evening, they’d placed themselves subtly but effectively between me and everyone else. Part of me argued that I should be offended, but I told that old Earth-girl to shut up. We were on an alien moon in a room full of predators. I was very grateful, and more than a little turned on, to have two of the most dangerous males in the room openly declaring their devotion to me. I didn’t need to see the ink or the piercings to feel it.

Styx waited for complete silence to linger until I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable as the lack of sound grew heavy and expectant. I recognized the play for what it was, a show of dominance. A demand for respect.

When he was satisfied, he reached back, took my hand, and pulled me up to stand beside him. Blade followed, and I was sandwiched between their muscled frames, each of them pressed to one of my shoulders. “This is our mate, Harper, of Styx legion.”

The silence was not broken, and I bit my lip, wondering if I was supposed to say something. Do something. They hadn’t needed the verbal introduction. They all knew who I was. It was a proclamation.

Until Astra raised her glass and her enforcers followed suit. Seconds later, every glass in the room was held high as she spoke. “To Harper of Styx.”

“Harper of Styx.”

The room chimed in perfect unison.

Everyone drank. Blade released a breath I hadn’t been aware he was holding in a rush of sound, and Styx’s shoulders relaxed. He squeezed my hand gently, and I squeezed back. I had no idea what that was all about, but I’d ask them to explain it to me later.

My stomach rumbled, and the scent of fresh fruits and cheeses, some kind of delicious spiced meat almost made me dizzy.

Blade smiled down at me. “Hungry, mate?”

“Starved.” I leaned in, whispered, “You gave me quite an appetite.”

Styx’s arm slid around my waist from behind, and I found myself pressed to his hard heat. No, melting into him was more like it. When it came to these two, I had absolutely zero self-control. It had been all of ten minutes and yet I wanted them again. I knew they were waiting for me to beg them to bite me. That the bite was forever. Sacred.

The idea of those two things had scared the shit out of me in the beginning.

Now, I found I wanted them so badly I was afraid to admit it, even to myself. I’d blurted out the request for their bite a short time ago, but they didn’t seem to believe me. Or the timing was horrible. Or both. Maybe they thought my arousal had me spouting anything just to come. Maybe it was true.

Maybe being delirious with pleasure simply allowed me to admit a cold, hard truth I couldn’t face when I had myself under control.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides Program Fantasy