The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8

by Mills, Michele

  “Yes, it would be a disaster. I agree with the necessity of this plan,” Rayzor responded.

  “The Imperial Fleet will reach hailing distance in five minutes,” the computer reported.

  “I love you, my son,” Melachine said. “I will cherish this time.”

  “I love you,” Rayzor told her.

  “Joyzal, remember, you are both my sons. I have always known you have the instinct of a warrior of old. Today my confidence in you was rewarded.”

  The screen went black. The two warriors were quiet, their heads bowed.

  “We have to find somewhere to hide Rayzor before the Imperial Army gets here,” Jacole reluctantly reminded them. “Remember, Rayzor shouldn’t be on this mission. You guys said he doesn’t have a Hunter license anymore…”

  The two warriors blinked out of their inertia. Rayzor looked over at Joyzal and said casually, “I’ll take the transporter.”

  Joyzal straightened. “That’ll work.”

  The two warriors started walking to the door of the bridge. Joyzal moved close to her and guided her forward with one hand lightly touching her back. They all walked quietly together to the transporter room, which was lined up next to the medical bay and the holo-deck. It took mere seconds for Joyzal to tap in the code and for Rayzor to instantly disappear off the ship.

  “I don’t even understand you two,” she told Joyzal. “All of that fighting and he could’ve just taken the transporter home?”

  Joyzal shrugged. “Rayzor hates using the transporter. Always has. He thinks it’s a death trap.”

  “Is it?”

  Joyzal paused. “On older ships, yes. On my new ship? No.”

  She stepped forward and slid both of her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she could feel his chin resting on top of her head. She sighed with contentment.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You took on Rayzor’s mother as your mother for all these years, never telling either of them about the other in order to keep them both safe?”

  “Yes.”

  He was so fucking loyal he made George Washington look disloyal. She tightened her arms around his waist, trying to hug him harder. “What would have happened if the Imperial Fleet discovered them communicating?”

  “Immediate execution, for both of them.”

  “Oh.”

  “And why were they Banished in the first place?”

  “Because Rayzor’s father is a traitor to Xylan. His punishment was banishment of his line for two generations.”

  “Rayzor and his brother and Melachine weren’t involved?”

  “No, they were innocent.”

  “That sucks. It’s terrible that they have to pay for what he did.”

  “I agree.”

  “Incoming message for Jacole of Two,” the computer interrupted.

  Joyzal cursed. He let go and stepped gently out of her embrace.

  “For me?” she asked. Because, really, who would be calling her? She didn’t know anyone out here in outer space. “Who is it?”

  “A representative from the Imperial Xylan Fleet,” Joyzal muttered. “They’ve found us.”

  “Why do they want to talk to me? Shouldn’t they want to talk to you? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Oh, it makes perfect sense,” he answered, his jaws tight. He exhaled and stroked her arm. “This,” he said, gently pressing a claw into her skin for emphasis. “It’s about this. They are here because they know of your royal pigment. The Bounty Hunter Guild has had time to review the recording of my mission to extract THX309. By now they’ve noted that a female of royal pigment was aboard my ship. I made a notation in my log that I mated with one of the rescued females. They know that female is you.” He lifted his chin and spoke louder. “Computer, allow message. Play the vid here,” he ordered.

  “Confirmed.”

  The screen blinked to life.

  Jacole couldn’t believe what she saw before her. This guy was amazing. A handsome, dark-skinned Xylan warrior appeared on the screen. He was darker than Melachine, darker than Rayzor. His skin had a shine to it that seemed to suck in and yet reflect the surrounding light. Even with her limited knowledge of Xylan and their customs, Jacole could tell this man was someone very important. His bearing was noble, his clothes screamed money. Who was this guy?

  The man scanned Joyzal, looking him up and down and obviously finding her husband wanting. “Margol,” he sniffed.

  Joyzal growled.

  Jacole was annoyed at this disrespect toward her husband.

  The warrior paused to meet her gaze with his own striking, hazel-colored eyes, highlighted with sparks of gold. “I am Zhoryan of Eighty-Two,” he told her with a small bow of his head. “I am the Imperial Warlord of Sector One. I place your honor before mine,” he intoned.

  Oh hell. Even she knew what that meant. Jacole bit her lip. Joyzal grabbed the hilt of his blade. “Jacole of Two is my Bride,” he snarled. “She carries my offspring. You have no claim here. There is no need for you to make this offer.”

  The warlord raised a brow, which lifted his carefully defined ridges with hints of silver in between. Christ, the man was amazing. She could study him all day.

  The warlord glared at her husband. “A Margol has no business mating with a Xylan female of royal pigment,” he said to Joyzal. “This is a mistake that must be rectified immediately. You found her while on a mission. This is a loophole in the mating ritual that will be closed. She was not formally presented to you by the champion and manager of her line for mating compatibility. You know it is Xylan custom for lines to remain pure. I am here to take this female home to Chronos and reunite her with her line.”

  The warlord directed his next words to her again. “Do not worry. The mating of a female of royal pigment to a Margol is not considered legally binding. You have the right to break your mating bond if you so choose and to terminate any resulting pregnancy.”

  Joyzal made a noise. She looked over at him and saw a man about to come undone. He looked like he was literally about to explode. He pulled out his blade. “My Bride is not going to Chronos, and my offspring will not be terminated. I will die here today fighting the whole damn Imperial Fleet before I let that happen.”

  The warlord locked eyes with Joyzal. “Warrior, you are dishonored. A Margol who forces mating compatibility on females of royal pigment are the lowest type of scum. I promise you will die a slow and miserable death. I will kill you myself before the madness takes you.”

  “I did not force mating compatibility on Jacole of Two. I would never touch a female of royal pigment without a formal offer. She offered herself to me.”

  “You lie!” the warlord shouted.

  Joyzal possessively cupped his hand around the back of Jacole’s neck, drawing her into his side. “This Bride is mine. I have claimed her and planted my seed in her womb. I have pounded my shaft in her core many times, and she screamed out her pleasure. You have no rights here.”

  Her cheeks heated as embarrassment rushed through her like a river. “I think I’ve finally made up my mind,” she said quickly, interrupting their argument. Jeez, Xylans liked to yell and fight a lot, didn’t they? And dear God, if Joyzal said one more word to anyone about her screaming orgasms, she was going to lay him out.

  They both looked at her quizzically. Joyzal’s eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. He dropped his hand from behind her neck. She placed a comforting palm on his forearm.

  “You are not leaving,” he snarled.

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed. “I’m not leaving.” She turned and met the gaze of the warlord, who looked ready to jump out of the screen and start World War III with her new husband. “First, I want to thank you for your offer,” she told him in a placating tone. “I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to help me. Your offer would have been exactly what I needed if I were actually in trouble here, so again, I appreciate how you’re t
rying to help. But the thing you’re both forgetting, and I don’t know how, is that I’m not Xylan, I’m human. I’m an Earthling. An Earthling who happens to have dark skin that looks like royal pigment, I guess, to the both of you. So, because I’m not Xylan, the Scales of Xylan Law and your rules about females with royal pigment don’t apply to me.”

  The warlord’s mouth opened and then shut. He appeared to be thinking about that. “You are of royal pigment…” He trailed off. “I will call in a Judge to handle this dispute,” he decided.

  “No, no, please, there is no need. Let me make this easy for you. What my mate says is true, I did offer my hand to him to test mating compatibility. It was my choice, my idea. I made the offer. All me. He is innocent. He didn’t force mating compatibility. And know this…I want to stay with Joyzal. I am his Bride. I carry his offspring. I choose Joyzal of Six.”

  “You choose to remain the Bride of Joyzal of Six?” he asked, clearly confused.

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  The warlord looked angry again, the metallic threads in the ridges on his forehead becoming more pronounced. “Female, you are under duress. Confused. You do not understand your rights. No female of royal pigment chooses to mate with a…” He waved a clawed hand at Joyzal. “A Margol,” he spat. “You couldn’t possibly have offered to test with this half-color. He must have forced compatibility on you, which is a crime. I will bring the Judge and a counselor to consult with you. You need help. Again, female, I place my honor before yours.”

  She lifted her chin and raised her voice. “No, thank you. I am fine. I choose Joyzal. Don’t forget I am actually human. I don’t care about the rules you have in your culture about a Xylan with royal pigment. Therefore I don’t care if he’s Margol. I don’t even know what that means. I like his skin color. I think he’s beautiful the way he is. I’m excited to see our offspring, to see a child who looks like Joyzal.”

  “You think this Margol is beautiful the way he is?” the warlord responded, incredulous.

  Joyzal took her by the shoulders and pushed her behind him. He stood in front of her, assuring that his was the only image in the vid screen. The only thing the warlord could now see. “Zhoryan of Eighty-Two my Bride has made her decision. All decisions made by Brides are final. You have to accept that she has made her choice, and she chooses me. I have properly claimed her with a customary mating ritual and filled her with my offspring, and she has verbally declared in front of witnesses that she chooses to join my line and accepts me as her mate. The declaration has been recorded. Our mating is now legally binding. She is human and not Xylan, therefore my designation as Margol has no weight in this mating. You placed your honor before hers, as is required by law, and she declined your help. You have done all that needs to be done in this instance. Your services are no longer necessary.” Joyzal swiped his hand across the circular red light and cut off the vid feed. The screen went dark and then blinked out of sight.

  Jacole let out a sigh of relief. “Do you think that’s going to work, or—”

  Joyzal turned with a growl and grabbed her with one arm. He backed her up against the wall with a thud and cupped her face with his hands. He kissed her with harsh lips, wet and hot, cutting off anything else she had to say. She opened to him, wrapping her arms back around his waist, melting into him. His tongue dove into her mouth, and she sucked, wanting him as close as was humanly—or not humanly—possible. Everything else around them disappeared. It was just the two of them. She fisted his shirt, tugging it up so she could run her hands all over his ridiculously tight abs. He let go and broke their kiss for a moment, taking in deep gulps of air, and tugged his tunic off over his head. Then he was back, diving into her, holding her tight, naked male chest pressed against her. They were kissing again as if their lives depended upon it. His hands went under her tunic and grabbed her breasts, cupping them and pinching her nipples. Her knees went weak.

  His hands roamed down her sides and back and cupped her buttocks. He groaned against her lips.

  She broke off the kiss. “You’re mine, Joy,” she croaked out. “Mine.”

  He licked her neck. “Is that the nickname you have chosen for me?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. It means you are the joy of my life.” Okay, maybe that was a bit hokey and all kinds of corny, but dammit he was the joy of her life. He was.

  “I’m fucking you now. I can’t wait.”

  He held on to her, swung her around and walked her to the center of the bridge. His hand pressed against her back, pushing her over the console. She grabbed on to the edge for stability. He tore off her pants in record time, just ripped them right the hell off. Jesus, the man was freakishly strong. She gasped as air blew across her exposed ass and pussy. Her warrior wasn’t messing around when he said he needed to fuck her. When he said now, he meant now.

  He grabbed her ass, squeezed, and slapped a hand on her cheek, spanking her. “Goddamn, I love your ass.”

  Jacole grinned. She knew she had a nice ass. Large, but not too large, round, firm, high. Accentuated by a small waist. Basically, she considered it her best feature.

  His claws dug into her ass cheeks, and she moaned at the exquisite sensation of pain and pleasure. “I’m about to fuck you hard, but first, time for your punishment.”

  “My what?”

  The stinging slap had her body humming with need. She realized he’d been toying with her. That first spank had been light. This one was rough.

  “From now on you will follow my orders.” He slapped her again, his open palm targeting the area nearest her core. It hurt so good. She moaned in response. “You will not—” slap, slap “—risk the life of our offspring or the life of my mate again—” slap.

  “I promise,” she squealed. “I won’t do it again.”

  She was dizzy with need. His fingers dug into her core, feeling how embarrassingly wet she already was. Her ass was burning, and it turned her on more. She could hear the sound of his fingers moving around in the slick heat. He leaned down and licked her ass. Oh fuck, her warrior was dirty.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  His response was the prodding of his cock at her entrance. “Spread your legs.”

  She did as she was told, trembling with anticipation. He leaned over her from behind and shoved in, balls deep. Oh God, her body was on fire. She pushed back against him, helping him to go even deeper. His fangs scored her shoulder as he clamped down on her, holding her steady as he began to fuck her hard from behind. He was so thick, and those ridges…she could feel them in spots she didn’t know existed. He was like a real-life vibrator made exactly to her specifications. It was unreal. He grunted as he continued to thrust harder, deeper, sending her spiraling in a fog of pleasure and erotic eye candy.

  He reached around and began fingering her clit. That was all it took. It sent her over the edge, and she came harder and longer than she ever had in her life. Her husband slammed into her one last time, his hips against her ass, and stilled, roaring as he came inside of her, spurting hot cum and telling her how much he loved her.

  Two hours later they were both worn out from two more rounds of hot sex. First in the shower, where she initiated Joyzal into the wonderful world of blowjobs, and later, there was a slow and languid round on his bed, where they stared deeply into each other’s eyes as he slowly slid in and out of her. It was beautiful.

  Now they were in his bunk, cuddling, and Jacole couldn’t remember a happier moment in her life. But there was something that was bothering her. One thing she needed to know.

  “I’m confused about something,” she said, her fingers trailing across the silky yet hard skin on his wide chest.

  “Hmm…”

  “When we return to your home planet, you don’t have to retire from being a Bounty Hunter just because you’ve found your Bride, right?”

  He shook his head. “No, I will continue to bid for missions.”

  “You told me earlier that Rayzor is with his Bride on Zamarian Prime
because he’d been forced into retirement.”

  “This is true, but he and his Bride enjoy their retirement. He was ready to devote his time to his line and his farm, which is becoming a profitable business with the help of his new Bride.”

  Jacole allowed a look of horror to pass across her face. “Sorry, but retirement from Bounty Hunting, or some armed service or law enforcement, and leaving to live on a quiet farm sounds like living hell to me. I’m only twenty-three. I had a big career ahead of me back home. I’d planned on being an FBI agent, working for Earth government and moving up the ranks and one day being in charge of the whole damn place.”

  Joyzal chuckled. She knew he loved it when she talked bold like that. He got her.

  He pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “You want to be a Bounty Hunter, too?”

  She smiled and bit her lip. “Hell yes! We can work together.”

  “This is acceptable.”

  “It’s okay in Xylan culture if females work?”

  “Of course. Females work outside of the compound on Chronos and elsewhere. It is common. Melachine will be happy to assist.”

  “Thank you for that. For understanding.”

  “Of course I understand. It is what I want, too. It will be easier to maintain my number one status on the Leaderboards if my Bride works with me.”

  “Go big or go home,” she told him, and put her palm out. They high-fived over that statement.

  He suddenly turned very serious. “You don’t wish that I were human, that we were living on Earth?”

  “I love you just the way you are. You don’t secretly wish I was Xylan and not human?”

  “Your beauty is breathtaking. Each time another warrior sees my claim on you he will burn with jealousy.”