by Milana Jacks
Goddess Beast Mate
Beast Mates, #2.5
Milana Jacks
Copyright © 2017 Milana Jacks
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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Sent Beast Mate
About the Author
Also by Milana Jacks
Chapter One
Shanice
The sixpence in my shoe felt like a blister. I had something old, something blue, and something borrowed, but nothing new—not even the feeling of dread on my wedding day. That was old, too. With an incomplete set of the lucky charms, I didn’t look forward to my future.
"Dearly beloved…" The community leader's voice echoed through our sanctuary. The man I hated from the bottom of my heart locked his brown eyes with mine at the same time as my fifty-three-year-old cousin gripped my hand. The force of the leader's glare made me drop my gaze to his polished white shoes, and the force with which my cousin squeezed my hand made me think it was the end of the world for me.
Ever since I turned eighteen and the leader signed me into the Pairing Program, he'd made me available for any alien looking for a woman to warm his bed. For the past year, he'd doubled his efforts to sell me. Every beast he saw was invited to come and take a look at me. They came. They saw. They left.
I felt a bit like a cow. Not so much like a person. It didn't help that none had bought me and the humiliation of it stung my soul. Despite my sister's constant praise of my body, I thought there was something wrong with me. Perhaps I wasn't pretty enough. Perhaps I really was too big.
Last month, I dieted and lost ten pounds but it was too late. Even with my efforts to lose weight and make myself more appealing to the beasts, the last beast who came here didn’t buy me, and even with all my pleads, the leader proceeded with the marriage arrangement to Pete.
Marrying my cousin wasn't wrong, but it felt wrong to me after I got a hold of some romance books from before the Great Nuclear War. In the books, women married billionaires, boys next door, their best friends, their father's best friends, but not their cousins. I’d wondered why, so I asked Ms. Smith, our beast-pairing trainer. She told me books filled my head with nonsense, and threw them away. She said girls from Community Twenty-One obeyed their Masters, no matter who they were. She punished me for questioning her authority.
Still, she couldn't beat the words I'd read out of me. I held on to the stories because once read, the truth couldn't be unread. It was inside my head, and nobody could take it away. So during my wedding day, I tuned out the Bible verses, the whispers about an emerging prophet named Tom, and the sanctity of the holy union. I imagined my cousin was a man about my age, not twice that, from another Texas community across the tracks and near a city once called Austin, and I imagined he lifted my hand and kissed my palm.
"Do you, Shanice, take this man, Pete, to be your—"
The doors busted open.
I yelped and spun around. Pete released my hand and took off in a run.
Screams erupted.
A pack of beasts swarmed the sanctuary, their eyes pale, their teeth the size of my thumb, and their faces painted black. Locked into fear, I stood in my white dress and whimpered. A torn arm landed at my feet. I turned, bumped into my sister, and nearly knocked her on the floor.
"Shanice." My sister Shayma gripped my shoulders. "These are hunters. They're looking for Men of Earth. Don't run. Close your eyes and kneel."
"But I'm getting married," I mumbled.
A cry rang through the sanctuary. The leader called for our savior, but nothing would save us if he had connections with Men of Earth. We were dead meat. I glanced back at the entrance. A blond beast in a kilt strolled inside the sanctuary. Apart from the ridges on his forehead that all beasts had and his disproportionately large teeth, he looked like one of the Jonas boys who sold milk. Handsome and harmless. I blinked. I'd called this upon myself; I dreaded marrying my cousin, so the beasts came for me.
"He'll save us," my sister said and licked her lips.
"You've lost your mind," I told her. "Don't salivate over him. We gotta run."
Shayma moved to stand next to me and gripped my hand. "Sister, trust me. They will not hurt us. They'll keep us for the pairing."
"They'll keep you, but not me. I've tried the pairing. Remember?"
"Shut up and kneel."
Three beasts rushed a man, and a bloody white shoe flew off his foot. My stomach rolled, and the reality of what was happening slapped me in the face. "Shayma, they're not here to save us. They're here to stock up on meat for the winter."
Shayma's face paled. "What?"
"It's a raid like the one in Com Seven, where Alpha's pair used to live. Let’s hide in the mill." As kids, we had played hide and seek there. Named it Shelter from Pete. It was only half a mile from here. We could make it. Get lost in the mayhem.
"I'm staying." Shayma closed her eyes and fell on her knees. I couldn't leave her behind. Stupid, skinny idiot. I knelt next to her, and jabbed my elbow into her ribs. "You’d better be right, or I'll yank your hair out."
"Deal."
I didn't watch. Didn't have the stomach for it. Slick with cold sweat, Shayma's hand slipped from my grip. I couldn't comfort her. My body shook, my heart wanting to leap out of my chest. I whimpered and tried to summon a prayer. My brain didn't work. Should've paid more attention on Sundays. Should've listened during the mass and not daydreamed about book boyfriends. Please, dear Lord, help us. I swear I'll do better, I'll pray every day.
On our knees, we waited for the blessed silence, for the moment when the screaming stopped. It seemed like a year had passed, before the whimpers and the beasts’ conversing in their native tongue replaced the shouts and the gnarls.
Shayma nudged me. "It's over."
I peeled open an eyelid. Women lined the walls, waiting. Beasts escorted them outside in groups of five. These beasts wore kilts, braided their long hair, and didn't have tattoos. The blond one strode toward me and my sister and paused to assess us. Shayma had always gotten more attention than me, so when the blond crouched in front of me and his gaze roamed over my body with clear appreciation for my curves, I told myself this must be a trauma-induced-daydream. Seventeen beasts had refused to buy me. The kilted blond was no different.
"Hey there, handsome," my sister said.
"Hey," he said, sparing her only a glance. "You have two options," he told me. "Come into my court willingly or by force."
Shayma raised her hand. "Willing. Yup. Right here."
I swallowed and looked away from his orange eyes. On my left, I spotted another beast. Like the others, this one wore a kilt and boots. Unlike the others, he sported tribal tattoos all over his upper body, his hair was shaved off, he wore hooped earrings, and his forehead wasn't as rigged as the beasts’. Nor was he as tall as a door. He reminded me of a... man. I frowned.
A fingertip tapped my nose, and I turned back to the blond beast. He tapped my nose again. "And you?"
"Me? Oh, dear me. It's my wedding day."
"Poor, sweet pumpkin. Which one's your husband? We'll burn the remains."
He meant bury, didn
't he? "I never married."
The tattooed beast approached, stood behind the blond one, and crossed his arms over his chest. He tilted his head.
Although I knew the answer, I asked, "What are we supposed to do at your court?"
"Serve my hunters."
Okay. So this was Mayhem the Barbarian. Dear Lord, have mercy. I hitched a breath. Fought back my fear. "I'm a seamstress," I said. "Best seamstress in the state of Texas."
"We have a seamstress."
"You need another one."
Mayhem smiled.
My sister cooed.
Did we come from the same womb?
Before I could blink, a claw hooked on top of my dress and ripped it from throat to navel. My breasts spilled out. I gasped and covered them. Or tried to. They were the size of watermelons, and my hands couldn't possibly cover them.
"Obedience. No snark," he said. "I don't need another seamstress. I need willing pussy, for my males." He stared at my breasts. Smirked. "You are prime rib."
"I ain't no prime rib."
"If I say you are, you are. Let's move out."
"Hell yes, Master Mayhem," my sister said. "Shanice is prime rib, and she got the biggest heart in the state. Pete, over there?" Shayma pointed. “Forget him. I have."
A grunt came from the tattooed beast.
I snapped my gaze up.
His body grew, his eyes turned ice blue, and he bared his teeth. "Mine," he uttered.
Mayhem leapt up and cursed, then shouted something in the beast tongue. The rest of the hunters ceased their activities and turned toward us, all pale eyes and bulging muscle. They stomped their feet and chanted.
"Uh oh," Shayma said. "Something's happening."
"No shit," I said. "Maybe that one didn't get to eat, and now he's hungry." The tattooed one stared down at me. I stood and lifted my hands. "No, no. Settle down. No prime rib for you."
"Clear out," Mayhem ordered. Another beast picked up Shayma and ran out the sanctuary. The place emptied in a second. All, apart from me and the hungry one.
I retreated.
He followed. Backed me up against the wall. One hand slammed above my head, and the other groped my ass. He didn't look or sound like a man when he said, "That ass is mine."
"It's big. Even for you."
"No such thing as too big for me. What's your name?" Our breaths met when he lowered his mouth and licked my lips, his blue eyes pale icicles. "Mmmmm. I can't even imagine what your pussy tastes like." He backed off then. Stood about a foot away.
I expelled a breath I held.
"My name is Medrix, son of Knox and Geraldine. I'm native born, here on Earth. Don't be afraid," he said.
"Okay." This was better. He’d backed up a bit—didn't appear threatening—so I said, "My name is Shanice."
"Nice to meet you, Shanice." He ripped off his kilt, spread his arms out, and roared, "Use my body!"
Dear me. I gaped at the monstrosity between his legs. Perhaps under different circumstances, I'd've been ready. We’d had formal training, and I’d seen many beasts before. We never hosted raids however, and no amount of training could've prepared me for the sight of his monster cock.
Stars played over my eyes, and it all went black.
Chapter Two
Medrix
Shanice's eyes rolled up, and she crumbled to the floor.
"Fuck me sideways." I ran to my mate and picked her up, then looked around for a place to settle her. Blood on the marble floors, brains on the high windows, and ripped clothes hanging from the pictures on the walls—this sanctuary wouldn't do. I carried her through a wooden back door and entered a small room with a single bed. I sniffed. Mold and incense, but better than blood and gore. I kicked the door behind us and laid her down on the bed. I sat next to her, rested my hands on my knees, and hung my head. Now what? I glanced behind me.
Shanice was a pretty girl with dark-brown almond-shaped eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and an ass made for spanking. No, no. I shouldn't think about her ass or the damned spanking right now. I walked to the tiny closet and found a white blanket inside. I covered her—fine, big, fuckable—tits I'd be sucking on in about an hour. Don't think about sucking on her tits.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn't expected this mating thing to hit me like a baseball bat to the head. But it did. It hit and blew out all my human brain cells. I was a beast, but a human mother had raised me. I knew better than to rip off the man-dress and demand she use my body. Had I really said…?
I groaned. Hanging out with beasts did this to me. Hanging out with Tineyan hunters made me a monster. I'd behaved just like them.
Fuck Vice and his integration into society. After he made me run for a week straight, Vice had come down to my house and asked me to help out with the new arrivals from Tineya. They were having a hard time adjusting to our way of life, and since I was native born, he thought I could point them in the right direction. A grand idea at the time. I should've refused his request.
Working with Mayhem the Barbarian involved everything from educating the primitive Tineyan tribe on human ways of life to introducing them to the beast culture on Earth, and also doing some surveillance and helping the tribal members work the tech. My job was to speed up the adjustment process. From what I understood, Mayhem and his people weren't familiar with beast tech.
Vice stuck me with Mayhem, slapped a Lieutenant title on my paperwork, and then reminded me this assignment would clear my family name—since his mate had dodged my surveillance that one time when I nearly died of poisoning. I reminded him his mate's sanity was questionable. He extended my stay with Mayhem for a minimum of one year.
Should've kept my mouth shut. I'd dealt with Mayhem and his hunters fine for several weeks, but now I readied to quit New City and return back to Beast City, where I'd take over Dad's tech business.
Mayhem's people wore man-dresses. Mayhem asked me to blend in and wear one. Had it made for me. Said a black pocket on the side of the dress identified me as a friend of the tribe. So I put it on and requested to come along on a raid. At first, Mayhem refused. I insisted—a mistake. It showed me my nature. I was no different than the tribe. No more or less civilized.
A noise came from behind me.
Shanice was coming to. I squeezed in next to her. Our faces inches apart, I inhaled the smell of my mate. Apricot. I sniffed her shoulder. Apricot oils and shampoo. I licked. Mmm…
My dick pressed against her belly.
My human side was going on vacation. Best of luck to this poor girl, though I'd do my best not to creep her out.
Shanice mumbled something and snapped her eyes open.
I hushed her scream with my hand over her mouth. "Shhh. It's okay. Nod your head." Eyes wide, she nodded, and I removed my hand. "Hi," I said.
"Hi." She looked behind me, took in the tiny space with the one little muddied window. "I shouldn't be in this room."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a woman."
"That's ridiculous. Who said that?"
"Jesus."
"Can’t be. His mother was a woman. If his mother walked in here, you’d shout a miracle, not ask her to leave.”
Shanice chuckled. “Probably.”
I cleared my throat. Men of Earth have been reaching out to the communities, filling their heads with bullshit, and calling on their faith. We got a tip about this community. Mayhem raids then asks questions after. So I fisted my hands and ground my teeth before asking, "Ever heard of a prophet named Tom?"
"Leader Hanz mentioned him."
"Has your leader ever met this Tom?"
"Not that I know of."
"Has anyone visited this community with Tom's message?" The message was simple—don't breed with the beasts, breed with men.
"No."
"This is good."
Shanice pulled up the blanket. Covered herself.
I tugged the blanket, demanding she showed me more. "I scared you, but I swear on all the deities, I want to worship you
r body. You are my pair. You are made for me. Do you understand pairing?"
"I thought I understood. Nobody I know has paired like this before."
I sniffed out her fear. It turned me on even more. I had to get a hold of myself, explain the pairing and what it meant for us. Later, I would explain mating, and we'd be set. "You understand beasts pair with women?"
"Yes, but nobody's ever paired with me."
"And thank God for that."
"I was marrying my cousin today."
Oh shit. A problem. Major problem if she married out of love and Mayhem had killed him. "Did you love him?" I asked.
"That's my business."
"It's our business. Did you want to marry him?"
"Nobody gives a shit what I want."
"I give a shit. I want to pair with you. I love you."
"You love me? But we just met."
"It's how this works. How about you? Do you want to pair with me?"
Shanice didn't answer, held the blanket as if it were a lifeline. I wanted to be her lifeline. After a while, she said, "We don't choose. Beasts choose. They buy, and we go with them."
"I'm letting you choose." I could've left it at that. Could've scored points for being nice and sweet. But seeing as my life revolved around this woman I claimed during a raid, I reminded her of her choices a bit more. "You can pair with me or leave with the other beasts." Of course the latter would be over my dead body.
"There should be a priest. With papers. And a beast named Vice. It's not official if it's not... Viced."
"How do you know that?"
"Hanz tried to pair me several times. No takers, so I'm thinking you wanna get laid and you're too nice to force me. My beast husband would want a virgin. I can't give you that which I hadn't given anyone, without assurance you will protect me."
A priest. Where the fuck was I supposed to get one? "Well, is there a priest left?"
"You ate him," she said.