Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

by Susan Stoker

  Under that disgust was concern.

  It made Morgaine more nervous to see a man as hard and mean as he show veiled hesitation.

  They were near enough now she could hear them speaking, but only one language Morgaine understood. With a low timbre and a scratchy grumble, the guest gave throaty responses an unseen male at his back translated.

  This was a true foreigner.

  Settlers told stories about alien peoples, about harsh cruelties that drove her kind to these new worlds. In the tales, the men described were just as coarse as those marching closer.

  And closer, and closer.

  Close enough now that several had seen her, seen how she pulled her hair over her shoulders as if to hide behind it… how she only looked at them from the corner of her eye.

  They stared as if confused by such a sight, grumbling between themselves in their rough language.

  Worried she’d offended, that she had earned more than just another beating, Morgaine looked to the unknown male in front and found him stopped dead in his tracks.

  He was staring right at her, speaking quickly in a collection of hisses.

  Whatever the translation was, she could not hear it over the beating of her heart in her ears. She may have spoken with ferocity to the Alphas earlier, she may have been foolishly seeking to stand her ground. With this one, she had already lost all battles.

  He was a demon… and he had put a hand to the commandant’s chest and shoved him back. Heavy boots beat the ground as he stepped toward her cage. Others flew after him, until the male was running full speed. He reached the glass, gathered the dress she’d worn the day before, the one that had been left out to be pawed and sniffed by strangers. He looked at it, roared, and brought both fists to pound the glass.

  As he beat the separation between them, as cracks formed and the whole cage trembled, Morgaine screamed. She screamed and screamed, backing away, curling up as if to hide, no matter the welts or the pain.

  If she could have made herself invisible, if she could have willed her soul away, she would have. Because the devil was roaring for it, and the cracks in the glass were growing.

  Men were falling on him, men in black armor and men in leather alike. It took an entire swarm to pull the bellowing animal away, even more to quell the growing rumble between the two groups. She saw him dragged from the room, saw the veins standing up in his neck, his snapping teeth, and the way his eyes were locked only on her.

  What he shouted in his ugly tongue, whether they were curses or threats, Morgaine did not know. She’d pressed her hands over her ears, still screaming even as Sergeant Uriel entered to gather her up. The instant she felt hands on her, she fought, biting and scratching just as she’d threatened the others. One Alpha was much stronger than one traumatized Omega; the male ignoring her thrashing as he rushed her away in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Six

  It was the nest she dove for the instant she was set free. Scraps of fur were burrowed under, Morgaine instinctively seeking cover no matter the orders any might snap or punishments that might be ordained. While she hid, several Alphas entered the chamber, and though their voices could be heard arguing amongst themselves, they left her alone.

  Light weight even came to land over where she shook, as if blankets had been draped to cover where a foot or leg were exposed by inadequate furs.

  In all her time in this horrible new place, with all the fear and uncertainty she’d endured over her instruction, never in her life had she been more terrified than in those heart stopping moments watching the cracks grow in the glass.

  She imagined she could still hear him, hear him shouting and the pounding of his fists as he roared and went mad.

  “Corporal Esin, no. Do not approach the nest or touch her.” Sergeant Uriel boomed so all might hear, “That goes for all of you. The Omega is off limits.”

  An unfamiliar voice spoke up. “Sir, she was supposed to be mine tonight.”

  Real anger came from her keeper. “Did I stutter?”

  “You cannot leave her unattended in this state. I have a legal right to calm her.”

  She didn’t know who Uriel spoke to, but Morgaine heard the command clearly. “Remove him from the room.”

  The sounds of a struggle were short lived. When the door drew closed, it grew quiet enough she heard the footsteps approaching where she hid.

  “Morgaine, you are completely safe in here, the Omari cannot reach you. Come out of there so that I may see that you are unhurt.”

  Nothing was going to move her, no amount of Alpha purrs, no threats. They would have to pull her kicking and screaming from the covers. “No.”

  “Under these circumstances it would be appropriate to offer sedation. Medic, hand over the dram.”

  In a flurry, the covering over her leg was whipped back. Before she could kick, a prick nicked her skin, and the scream prepared in her throat died on a sigh.

  Pleasurable feeling washed over her, a mirror of that same warm safety she’d woken from that first morning. The drug battled against her adrenaline, and between them, a drifting middle ground was found.

  “She may not be able to sit up on her own with such a high dose.” The medic had spoken, but it was Uriel carefully lifting away the layers she hid under.

  When she saw the set of gashes across his cheek, Morgaine knew she had put them there. Just as she’d bit his hand to the point skin had broken. Even now blood stained her lips and flavored her tongue. Half drunk, she muttered, “You hit me with a stick. I’d rather be a lowly, feral Omega than an Alpha dog any day.”

  Sergeant Uriel didn’t blink. He reached down, pulling her to lean against the cushions despite her welts. “Her inhibition response is muted by the dram. Any slurs made now are off the record and forgiven.”

  In that case, she was going to lay it all out. “And you,” sluggish eyes traveled to where Esin stood by, “you were going to whore me out for profit to the panting vermin outside my glass cage. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone as much as I hate you.”

  He seemed genuinely forlorn to hear her slander and equally shocked by her obvious knowledge of what might be. “You misunderstand, renegade. I do not possess the rank to claim a mate yet. But with hard work, I could initiate a pair-bond in less than two years. What is a lifetime of joy to a few moments of disappointment? Do you think I rejoice to know other men will relish your time, that you will delight in their bodies during the hours I’m required by law to share you? I do not. It’s the only way we can be together as we are meant to be.”

  It was not like her to use gross language, but, slurring, Morgaine swore, “I’d rather fuck every last disgusting Alpha on this ship then have you so much as look at me.”

  Three snaps came before her blurring vision. “That’s enough, Morgaine. Focus here.” Uriel kneeled so they were at eye level. “Are you hurt?”

  Nodding, she pointed to her heart. “Here. It hurts here. It hurts so much I can barely breathe.”

  And then tears began to fall, and despite knowing better, Morgaine crumpled, begging over and over for her mother.

  “There will be no getting through to her in this state. Hand me another dose. She will be examined after she falls asleep.”

  This time the prick came to her shoulder, and shortly after, she lay limp as a fresh corpse.

  ***

  A metallic taste sat heavy on her tongue, arms and legs weighted by the remnants of drugs. She had yet to move or open her eyes, supine on her belly, soft coverings on her back. There were voices in the room—no longer by the door as they had been before, but near the area where the room’s table always lay laden with food.

  “How many of his men do you think their Heidron has killed trying to break out?”

  The Alphas were laughing, one offering up, “At least he does our work for us. Omari scum coming here with no warning… fresh treaty or no, we do not bow to their whims.”

  It didn’t matter what the men at her table boasted or c
laimed. She herself had seen the commandant bow to the foreigners.

  “It is no laughing matter.” Uriel cut off the revelry. “I advise you each to count the friends, brothers, and children you lost in the war. Hold on to that number and keep your silence before I make you silent. To imagine there will be no far-stretching repercussion from what took place in the gallery displays our arrogant blindness the Omari exploited in the first place. We surrendered to them. Remember that.”

  Petulant, Esin disagreed, “Had our colonies not been threatened, sir, the outcome would have gone the other way. They do not value Beta life as we do, just as they are known to rape and mutilate their Omegas. They’re animals. He cannot be allowed to have her. She’ll die.”

  “You are not pair-bonded to the girl, and unless she enters estrous in the next hour, you have no means to seal a claim. Their warships have already begun to appear around the planet. The Heidron is going to demand she be handed over once his rut subsides, or he will take her by force. The commandant will have no choice. He will not risk rekindling a bloody war for one feral Omega.”

  So, they were going to hand her over to that raving creature from the pit. Considering their lies thus far of promised safety and love, Morgaine felt no surprise at such news.

  Whatever she had done to offend that rabid male, she knew he’d kill her, and then at least it would be over. Considering how fiercely he’d battered the glass, her death would most likely be quick.

  It was for the best. The pleasure chambers would have shredded away her sense of self. Being mated to Esin would have been a lifetime of misery. The soldier had burned her mother’s face. For that she would never forgive him, the mysterious, threatened pair-bond or no.

  Groaning, she fought the covers and sat up. Rubbing away the crust from her eyes, she heard the males push back their chairs.

  Before one of them might give her a command or ask any pointed questions, she mumbled, “My bladder is full.”

  Uriel ordered the men away, but he did not leave her to her own devices. In fact, he watched her like a hawk, which made relieving herself difficult. When the act was finished, he ordered her to bathe, ordered her to dress herself, and ordered her to eat.

  She went through the motions, still numb, and unsure if it was a lingering effect of the drug or if her spirit had simply flown away.

  As if reading her thoughts, Sergeant Uriel sighed. “I imagine it won’t be much longer now.”

  He was correct.

  The commandant himself entered, a small army waiting in the hall.

  Lips stained berry red from the flesh of the fruit she’d forced down, Morgaine stood. Damp hair curled past her waist, life stolen away, she marched where she was bidden.

  Fear returned with each step.

  The thing they were giving her to, she remembered the wild look in his eyes. He was the stuff of nightmares: scarred, barbaric, and brimming with evil. His people were powerful enough to have subjugated the Alpha soldiers. Esin claimed they raped and mutilated Omegas.

  Heart thudding behind her ribs, her cadence wavered, and she was unsure if she could walk farther… but it was already too late.

  Morgaine’s eyes never left the ground, but those alien Alphas were just before her. She could smell their sweat.

  Gruff, the commandant broke the lingering silence. “You are aware that this Omega is flawed? Your men briefed you on her shortcomings?”

  Translation began at once, flowing, familiar speech turning guttural.

  The beast replied, his voice a rasp of grit and dirt. Moments later the translator said, “I have brought you a gift, gentle girl. Will you not look at me so I might give it to you?”

  Her lip was shaking, so she sucked it into her mouth and bit down. Nails sharp against her palms, the pain familiar, Morgaine made herself obey. Inch by inch her chin went up, eyes following until she saw what was held out before her. It was a mangy fur still in the shape of whatever brown animal it had been torn from, large enough to dwarf her if unraveled fully, and ugly as sin.

  “I…”

  The brute came toward her, Uriel pressing his hands to her spine to prevent her retreat. With a swish, the skin was draped over her shoulders, covering her near nudity and offering warmth.

  He spoke again, translation offered immediately. “I didn’t have anything finer prepared, but I could not have you cold and uncovered to be gawked at by these cowards.”

  It was an odd gesture considering the Alphas she knew. They had never once cared if she was cold in their swath of fabric, and they certainly didn’t want her body covered from sight. Calling them cowards, though, seemed like an unwise move.

  The monstrous male was purring louder by the second, his hands still resting on her shoulders. She’d yet to look up to his face, eyes trained on a long scar across his chest, mouth dry, and fingers clutching at the draping fur as if it might shield her.

  He did not wait for her to find the words of a reply. Instead the male spoke to those who brought her. “This female is ripe.”

  The commandant spoke. “She’s nearing her first estrous. Do not account for her age. As I said, she is flawed.”

  “If you use that word again to describe my kor’yr, I will rip out your throat, castrate your children, and see that your mate is defiled.”

  The careful fingers at her shoulders closed tighter, pulling her toward that naked, scarred chest.

  She breathed out, her resistance unheeded. He cupped the back of her head, pressing her cheek to his heart, just as his other arm clamped around her waist.

  Purr intensifying, engulfing and abundant, it drowned out all else. She could feel it and hear it in a way that was too intimate to ignore. His noise was in her and around her, just as his scent filled her lungs with each breath.

  They had doused him in something that smelled appealing, a lie to cover his brutality, but like the purr, it did its work. Muscles loosened, heart rate normalized, and Morgaine closed her eyes to it all.

  “That’s it, princess. Fear does not suit you.” Warm fingers began to burrow against her scalp, working their way down her neck and back up again until she let out a noise. “Come, I will show you what it means to be the kor’yr of Heidron Simin Gralloch.”

  Chapter Seven

  The transport ship shook, Morgaine gawking at the view from the porthole. The whole planet was at her feet, hundreds of other ships hovering above the atmosphere around it.

  It looked so big and so small, the swirled green blue mass indescribable. Beauty like that was enough to keep her head turned away from the male who still had his hands on her. Well, one hand was on her shoulder, the other had caught up her hair, twisting the length in his fist like a leash.

  They rape and mutilate their Omegas.

  Esin’s soft spoken warning to Uriel had done its work, just as the savage’s purr was working against her fear.

  Battle roughened fingers tripped over the front of her throat, a large thumb pushing her jaw back until Morgaine was forced to stare upward. His face was in her view, inches from hers, but she kept her gaze diverted. The male touched her lower lip with that thumb, pulling it to the side in a sweep, even as a low noise came from his throat.

  The fingers on her neck trilled, the grip on her hair tightened. He wanted her to look at him.

  The little stings against her scalp made her bow back further, to grip his forearm so she would not lose her balance.

  Rape and mutilate.

  Those two things this male would do to her. What was the point in refusing to meet his eye?

  A shallow breath, and she obeyed. His eyes weren’t blue like hers or particularly pretty. They were too murky to be named a single color. One of them was ringed in an ugly bruise. Below, cheekbones were defined but not sharp, hollow cheeks, and a strong jaw.

  Extreme masculinity with nothing soft or gentle.

  Not even his lips could be called soft, though they ever so slightly curled up at the corners the instant her attention was on them.


  He said something to her, a series of low pitched warbles. No other male on this ship offered a translation.

  Her distraction was exploited. He put his mouth on hers.

  The attack had been coordinated. Her head hit his bicep, his fingers pinching her jaw open. Female squeal squelched by a lapping tongue in her mouth, Morgaine found he held her immobile, that he possessed total control.

  She could not even bite.

  His unsolicited attention continued the entire flight from ship to ship, endured by a confused woman who did not know what was going on.

  The more still she grew, the more excited the Alpha became. The smell of musk dripped from his pores, it was rubbed on her, unavoidable like that tongue playing between her teeth.

  When the ship docked and the door opened, he set her free, only to gather her up in another way. Not once did her feet touch the ground, he was rushing too quickly past the sound of cheering men. Corridor, corridor, corridor, lift, too many turns to count, a beep and a slick slide of a door.

  Through the mad race, he had his paws on her anywhere he might reach, his tongue on her skin like a slavering dog. The fur, her slim protection, was yanked away. A hand came to her chest, Morgaine pushed back until falling into weightlessness.

  Pillows cushioned impact, but not the sting against sore welts. And then the beast was over her, grinning, speaking guttural nonsense she could not understand, even as he tore at her clothes.

  The instant he had her naked, the Alpha stilled. Arms locked, muscle protruding, he panted and stared. Her nipples, he licked his lips to see them, her belly, flat and velvety, brought to his face a lecherous grin.

  Her legs had been caught on the outside of his, parted just enough that Morgaine was exposed. Her slit was shining with dampness, the same sweet slick smeared across her inner thighs… the same damn fluid that had plagued her body since she’d been taken from her mother.