Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  He didn’t give a veck if they were sired by her previous mates. They were under his protection now, which meant they were his. He knew Granit and Laake felt the same way. They were like a three-headed monster—individual faces of one combined energy. The brain, the brawn, the heart, all working toward a common cause: Eslyn.

  It was as if their very existence—their oddball cohesion into an indivisible threesome had been solely for the purpose of claiming Eslyn. Because he could only reason that Prince Zander gave Eslyn to them precisely because they were three. They matched the number of mates she’d had and he wanted to spread the wealth that was Zandian female to as many of his loyal guard as possible. Zander would know he and his chosen brothers would have no problem sharing.

  In some ways it seemed a miracle they had yet to quarrel over her. But while he may feel possessive of her with other males, his brothers didn’t count. They were an extension of him. Besides, they’d made an unspoken pact to keep their focus on Eslyn’s needs and desires, above their own.

  He rounded the corner to find the children racing down the corridor, accompanied by Talia, Lamira, and Bayla. “Watch out!” he shouted with mock danger and swooped Teena up and around in a circle. She giggled and squealed, “Again!” when he put her down.

  “No, me,” Ren said. “Can you do me, Master Damon?”

  He caught the child around the waist and flipped her into the air to land on his shoulder, where he twirled. She stretched out her arms like an aviatory beast and sang out, “Wheee!” He reversed the direction of her flip, returning the disoriented child to her feet. “Where are you headed?”

  “To the Great Hall,” Lamira answered.

  “Have fun. We’ll see you later.”

  “Farewell,” Alyx said somberly.

  Damon lifted his arm at a right angle in the traditional Zandian greeting. It broke his heart to see such a young child so wary, his joy of life already dampened. Ren, too, sometimes retreated within herself. If it had something to do with their fathers, he needed to find out.

  Even more determined, he made his way back to Eslyn’s chamber, where the four had been staying since the prince’s decree.

  “What did you find out?” Laake asked when he entered. He tilted his head toward the washroom. “Eslyn’s washing up.”

  “Prince Zander said he’ll call her ex-mates up tomorrow and his decision on her future depends on theirs.”

  Granit and Laake both mirrored his frown. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Granit said.

  “Nor do I,” Damon agreed.

  “Does that mean if he releases them, Eslyn will be returned to their keeping?” Laake asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. We need to figure out a way to keep that from happening.”

  “But would he release all of them? It sounded like he’d already determined one of them to be the main culprit of wrongdoing.”

  Eslyn stepped out, skin flushed from her shower. “What is it? Is this about Sankro?”

  Damn. How much had she heard?

  “Yes.” Better to be honest with her. “Zander will question your mates tomorrow. He may question you, as well.”

  A shutter slid in place over her face. She nodded mutely.

  “Eslyn—who sired the children? Do you know?” Damon asked.

  “No. I cannot tell. All four resemble me, not their fathers. We never questioned it. It worked out better if we just assumed they belonged to all of us.”

  Jealousy stabbed him right in the gut, but he swallowed it back down. Had Eslyn been happy with her mates? Or at least one of them? If so, it wouldn’t be right to take her from that, especially if the males were absolved of their crime against Talia.

  He tried again, despite the pain. “Were you... closer with one over another?”

  She hesitated. Her expression betrayed nothing—her emotions well-hidden from them. “They are each different.” She shrugged. “Different strengths and weaknesses.”

  Veck. Same as he and his brothers.

  “Of course,” he said smoothly. “Well, the prince may ask your input as to their future. Be prepared for it.” He didn’t dare look at Laake or Granit, knowing they shared his worry.

  They might lose Eslyn far too soon.

  * * *

  Eslyn crept out of bed the next planet rotation with a tight band of tension squeezing her head. She hadn’t slept a wink, and it wasn’t because her masters had kept her up too late using her body. In fact, they’d settled for once each and had been particularly sweet in soothing her afterward.

  Not that they weren’t always attentive.

  But she’d heard what Damon had said the previous planet rotation. Prince Zander’s decision on her future depends on her ex-mates’. Which meant she needed to do something to be sure she and their young didn’t wind up back with them.

  She had an idea, but it was flimsy at best. It involved speaking with Elit or Banf, away from Sankro. Striking a deal with those males so that she and the young could walk free.

  But how to get to them?

  That part, she just didn’t know.

  “Where are you going, beautiful?” Granit caught her around the waist and pulled her back to the sleep disk, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

  “Mmm.” The pull to these males was so strong. She’d give anything to just sink into the nest of their bodies and believe they would keep her and her young safe and loved for the rest of their lives.

  But sadly, that wasn’t the reality. They were all subject to the dictates of the prince. And she had three other males who would lay claim to her, body and spirit.

  Veck.

  Granit’s huge palm stroked down her side and gripped one ass cheek. “It’s too early to sneak away, little flower. We haven’t even made you scream yet.”

  Despite the occupation of her thoughts, his words brought her body to life, the memory of all the different ways these males had of pulling cries from her—all good—sending blood rushing to the pertinent places.

  The night before, Damon had spent an eternity feasting between her thighs, bringing her to climax after climax while the other two men pinched and slapped and caressed the rest of her body until she’d begged them to stop. Only then did they penetrate her, Granit vecking her from behind as she sucked Laake’s cock, then Damon taking her against the wall of the wash tube afterward.

  Pleasing her masters again that morning would only serve any plan she hoped to execute. That’s what she told herself, anyway. It wasn’t because her body had begun to hum and heat, a fever building that would require all three of them to cool. And if she happened to conceive one of these males’ young during this breeding season? Stars, she hoped she would! They were much more worthy sires than her old mates.

  She crawled over the heap of men, gripping Laake’s cock in one hand and Granit’s thick horn in the other.

  Damon sat up, watching her. Seeing too damn much, as always. Would he advocate to keep her beyond her reconditioning? Or was this just about breeding? Answering the physical need to restore their precious species?

  “Hand me the lubrication,” Granit’s deep voice rumbled.

  Damon passed it over, and strolled up to the foot of the hover disk, seeming to either have a plan or know Granit’s. It turned out to be an intricate one—Granit’s cock in her ass with her lying back on his torso, Damon on his knees between their legs, vecking her pussy, and Laake in her mouth.

  She surrendered to their passion, her own burning bright enough to meet it. The hum filling her veins grew louder. It was too many sensations at once to track, and yet all brought her pleasure. Need. Pleasure. More need until her core began to quake. A scream shot out around Laake’s cock and she came. The males laughed and soothed and kept rocking into her until they each found their own finish. When it was over, they cradled her on their laps, stroking and praising her until she nearly forgot her problems.

  But then the baby woke and three young wanted to come in and soon the chaos of every morning had begun
. Two hours later, she had washed and dressed and nursed the baby. The young had left with one of their many guardians, and she remained alone with Laake.

  Which boded well. He was the most innocent of the three. The most trusting and open. If she could convince him to let her out on her own, maybe she could get to the dungeon.

  “Laake, I’m allowed out in the pod if I’m accompanied, aren’t I?”

  He held Sol by the armpits, letting the baby exercise his legs bounding on Laake’s lap. “Yes. Why?”

  “Would you... take me on a tour? I’d love to see it all.” She made her voice soft and innocent.

  “Of course.” He stood up immediately.

  She’d known he’d be easy, but she hadn’t known it would be that simple. Guilt rose up, black and ugly, but she shoved it back down. She was doing this for her young. She jumped up and slipped on a pair of soft animal-skin boots. “I’m ready if you are.”

  He extended an arm and she slipped under it, marveling at how natural and easy the gesture came to both of them, when it was one she’d never shared once with her former mates. He walked her slowly through the magnificent pod, taking time to explain details to her. How they used Zandian crystal to amplify the light so they could survive away from their planet. Why they chose to plaster the walls in the colors of Zandia. How Prince Zander’s mate, Lamira, had been a slave on an Ocretion agrifarm and had brought her knowledge of growing fresh Earth food to the pod. He told her that one day per week—which was every ten planet rotations on Ocretia—the Zandians gathered in the Great Hall for the only meal they required.

  He showed her the room he shared with Damon and Granit, the area where all the guards slept. He took her to the dock where they had many new airships.

  “And the dungeons? Where are they?”

  Laake’s face softened with sympathy. “Are you thinking of your former mates? They are not suffering, I assure you.”

  “Would—could I just see?”

  His expression clouded. “Why, beautiful?” His brows knitted. “Do you still care about them?”

  She swallowed. If she agreed, would he let her see them? Laake was all earnest kindness. He didn’t seem to have a jealous or mean streak anywhere in his personality. “Yes.” The lie burned on her tongue, especially when she saw the pain it caused her dear Laake. But she pushed forward. “Would you let me see them? Just for a few moments?”

  Laake rubbed his forehead. “You’ll see them later this planet rotation when Zander questions them.”

  She stepped closer, shifting the baby to her hip and resting her fingertips on his chest where his muscles created ridged handles. “Please, Laake?” She lifted on her tiptoes, brushing her lips across the hollow of his throat.

  His mouth dipped but he covered one of her hands with his. “If you must.”

  * * *

  There were four beings total in the dungeon, all Zandian, all male. Separate cells for each one. Laake had reluctantly agreed to let her go in alone, staying to talk with the guard on duty. Eslyn clutched Sol to her chest and passed the first prisoner, a stranger, and then Sankro’s greedy face came into view.

  He may be good-looking for a male, but she didn’t see him that way. To her, he was nothing but mean. She stiffened her spine. She had no need to be afraid. He was secure in his cell.

  “Eslyn.” He sprang up from the bench where he’d been sitting and came close to the curtain of laser keeping him in. “Where have you been? What’s happening?” He sniffed and his brows slammed down. “Why do I smell other males on you?”

  She hated the strangled cry of fear that erupted from her throat as her feet moved of their own accord, dashing forward, out of his vision. Damn her heart for slamming against her ribs.

  He can’t hurt you now. And she needed to make sure he never could again.

  The next cell held Banf. She passed it, not because she preferred to speak to Elit over Banf, only because she wanted to get farther away from Sankro.

  “Elit.”

  “Eslyn. You’re free. Where are the rest of the young?” His eyes lingered on Sol, but not with the same soft wonder that bloomed on her guards’ faces every time they saw him. No, his was a mean, possessive look.

  As if Sol felt the danger, the baby burst into tears.

  She turned Sol’s face into her chest and bounced the babe. Good. This reminder helped strip her of any guilt she might have felt about Elit being locked up here while she was free with their children. She wouldn’t pity him. Not after all the years the males had tormented her, forced her to do their every bidding. Hurt her physically and emotionally.

  “I’ve been locked in a room above. The young are being cared for by the females in the pod. They’re unharmed.”

  “But you’re free now?” He leaned his face as close to the laser wall as he dared. “You have to get me out of here,” he whispered.

  Good. She’d hoped he would be hungry to make a deal.

  She stepped close, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I will try. You’re going to be called up to speak with Prince Zander today. He already believes everything is Sankro’s fault. All you and Banf need to do is swear it was only his idea and you were forced to go along with it. I’ll testify the same if you’ll do one thing for me.”

  Elit lifted his brows. “What’s that?”

  “You and Banf must tell the prince you’re willing to let me and the young go free. To cut ties with us. That you want to make a fresh start and you’re willing to give us one too.”

  Elit’s face contorted with incredulity. “Why would I do that? You’re my female. They’re our young. And there’s only two Zandian females in the galaxy. I’d be insane to let you go.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Three now. And you have to. Swear it, or I’ll tell Zander you were as much a party to Talia’s kidnapping as Sankro and you’ll all rot in here for the rest of your lives!”

  Elit narrowed his eyes and considered her for a long moment. “Fine.”

  “You’ll renounce all claim on me or the young in front of all and Zander?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Swear it.”

  He lifted his arm at a ninety-degree angle. “Zandian honor.”

  She should have recognized the sardonic tilt of his lips. Later she would review the moment and berate herself for being too quick to accept what she wanted to hear. But Laake was waiting and she needed to get back before he came to check on her. The last thing she needed was Elit to see she had a new male—equate his smell with the ones on her.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you up there later today. Tell Banf what we discussed.”

  “I will. Take care, Eslyn.” His voice sounded mocking, but she ignored it, her back already turned, strides moving swiftly down the corridor, past the other cells.

  “Eslyn!” Sankro shouted as she went by. He tried to reach through the laser to grab her, but it shocked him, throwing him onto his ass on the floor.

  Served the asshole right.

  She didn’t stop to gloat, though, because Laake appeared at a run, pulling her behind his large body, hand on his sword.

  “It’s all right. Let’s go.” She tugged his muscled arm.

  He glared at Sankro a moment longer, but when she fled into the lift, he followed, using his palm to activate the door and take them back to the upper level.

  She didn’t breathe until they reached it, but her relief was short-lived because Damon stood outside the lift, arms folded across his large chest, accusation shooting from his eyes. Behind him lurked Granit, his mottled face tight and pained.

  “You took her to the dungeons.” Damon’s voice was low and cool. He spoke to Laake, but his gaze didn’t leave her face.

  “She... has feelings for those males,” Laake explained.

  No! Veck, no. She’d hoped to clear the lie before it got back to the other males.

  If she’d believed their attachment was only physical, her misconception was now clarified by the devastation on both males’ faces.

/>   “I see.” Damon’s expression turned to stone.

  “No—I just needed to see them. To know they weren’t mistreated. That’s all.”

  “Zandians don’t lie, Eslyn,” Damon minced, taking a step toward her. “It shows a lack of honor. But I suppose being raised away from our kind, you weren’t taught that. It was what we were meant to teach you in your reconditioning.” Misery blanketed his words.

  “Are you going to punish me?” She offered it like a gift, remembering how much he’d relished it last time.

  But he didn’t seem interested. “We’ll discuss it later.” To Laake, he said, “Take her back to her chamber and leave her there until the hearing.”

  Laake’s broad shoulders drooped. He nodded and grasped her elbow, his movements wooden.

  Veck. Her plans were going to backfire completely if her new mates didn’t want to claim her because they believed her heart to be already in play.

  * * *

  Granit hated—vecking hated—seeing Eslyn’s mates in the Great Hall. He stood beside Damon and Laake, their female a prisoner between them.

  Only two of her former mates had been called up for questioning—Elit and Banf. It seemed Damon’s theory that Zander believed not all three were guilty held true.

  Which one of these veckers did their female care about? Which one had she gone down to see?

  Damon had wanted to punch Laake in the mouth for taking her down there, but Laake had his reasons. He said if Eslyn cared about her ex-mates they’d be veck-offs to keep her from them. Especially considering they’d sired her young. And had bonded during the shared trauma of being the only Zandians left alive on their planet for fifteen years.

  Zander questioned them about their kidnapping of Talia and attempted assault of Tomis. They both played innocent, blaming Sankro, the mate who hadn’t been brought up for questioning yet. Their story didn’t ring true to him. How would Sankro force two males to do his bidding? All they had to do was bond together and they could have overpowered him.

  No, their defense sounded rehearsed and implausible.