by Lynn Best
Becoming Brandy
An Alien Abduction Reverse Harem Romance
Lynn Best
Text copyright © 2018 by Lynn Best. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. For information visit www.lynnbest.com.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
April 2018 Edition
Cover Design by Sanja Gombar
Edited by Cynthia Shepp
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
If You Enjoyed This Series…
Also by Lynn Best
About the Author
1
Brandy sipped her coffee in disappointment. This was the third cup she’d ordered, and it still tasted as bland as shoe leather. After dumping it in the trash, she walked over to the replicator embedded in the wall. She pressed her hand to the space next to the fake coffee machine, willing her order with her mind as she spoke it.
“Mocha latte with skimmed milk. And get it right this time. Sheesh.”
Her voice echoed in the empty space. The set of Central Perk from her favorite show Friends used to be one of her happy places. She remembered when she’d created it over a year ago. Brandy could not get enough of how lifelike everything was, even down to the smell of brewed coffee in the air. The plush couches were just like those onscreen. The street featured in the show was visible from the window in front of her. Glowing neon signs read Espresso and Cappuccino in the same enticing scrawl. She would sit and sip coffee from big mugs, picturing Rachel and Ross chatting it up while Phoebe played Smelly Cat.
Except there was no Rachel and Ross. No Phoebe or Joey. There were no friends to speak of. Brandy was alone.
Sure, she could conjure up people to wander around the scene, but they couldn’t talk to her and she couldn’t touch them. They were more like moving paintings, not really satisfying as companions. Lately, she’d been adding them into the simulator just to try to keep the loneliness at bay.
It wasn’t helping.
There were other humans on the ship. Women consorts for the male aliens. And Harper had just joined them, but Brandy didn’t know her well. She was off cavorting with Rahan, Kahn, and Marin. Plus, Brandy had felt a little animosity from the girl since Rahan had once been her lover.
Today, she was alone, yelling at the wall. Now all she needed was about forty-five cats and a collection of old newspapers and milk cartons stacked around her slowly decaying body.
Brandy didn’t even wait for her fourth cup of coffee to brew. She ended the simulation, the room fading back to blank white. As she watched everything around her disintegrate, she had the strong impression that her life was blending into the emptiness as well.
God, she needed a hobby.
Things had been a lot better for her on the ship when Charis had arrived. Charis was her new best friend, and they’d spent lots of time together doing all the things BFFs do. Sure, she’d had to share Charis with Han, but that was okay. Han was very busy preparing to rule the universe, so that gave them lots of time to watch old movies or try out dishes from the food simulator.
But Charis was pregnant and not feeling well. When she’d been ordered to go on bedrest, their afternoons sipping coffee or taking turns making the simulator create fun scenery for them to explore ended. Brandy had tried hanging out in Charis’s bedroom, but the alien doctors were always eying her suspiciously. The offspring Charis carried would solidify Han’s role as king, and many aliens had their panties in a bunch about it. Brandy had been shooed away on several occasions.
Everyone was busy being wooed or wooing, carrying babies or ruling the universe.
No one was wooing Brandy. She was not able to produce an heir, something about her genetic makeup. Bram had explained there was nothing to be done about it and walked off. He was not known for sugarcoating anything, but that was fine. Brandy was not one for motherhood anyway. Her own had been a bit of a beautiful disaster.
But what to do? She couldn’t even get drunk. The simulator didn’t produce alcohol.
Brandy wandered down the bright white hallways. She’d grown so sick of white on white. Everything was so plain. So sterile. The only place where anything exciting happened was on the bridge, so she took a detour there. It was frowned upon for her to hang out there, but when she walked into the large room, it seemed calm.
The bridge was about eight-hundred square feet, wide open and glowing white. At the moment, there was no furniture, but she knew they could change it by communicating with the organisms that made up the ships exterior. Brandy had long ago stopped trying to understand how the whole thing worked; she just knew it did whatever it was willed to.
Non-transformed Cartharians aliens were at work on their different control panels, sliding shapes around their smooth white walls in patterns that made no sense to her. She watched their long, clawed fingers move deftly, their red eyes darting around. She was no longer scared of their monstrous appearances. They were giant and imposing, their red eyes cruel. But their fangs and claws never strayed in her direction. The scaly skin and mane of hair didn’t seem odd anymore. The creatures didn’t bother her, nor even glance her way. Sure, they were attracted to her, but had been told under no circumstances were they allowed to touch her.
Although she was getting so bored even that prospect started to sound interesting.
But those claws…
She dismissed the idea. Instead, she wandered to the enormous front screen that displayed outer space. Star were scattered like glitter across of sea of black. Earth, her home, was the small blue ball in the left-hand corner. The vastness of the universe made her feel small and insignificant. She was so far from home.
Not that anyone there missed her, either. She’d been a high-class escort—prostitute if she wanted to get technical. Her pimp didn’t beat her, but he did encourage her to use substances to deal with her emotions. She’d been drug-addicted when Rahan found her and brought her on board. And what a disappointment when they found out she couldn’t bear children.
So she’d thrown herself into helping the girls they brought on board. There weren’t many. And a lot of them were unsuitable, so they were sent home. The few girls she’d grown attached to had been sent back to Earth.
Now, in the control room, Brandy put her hand on the screen, reaching out toward the stars.
“Hoping to take up a career as a navigator? Or maybe a science officer is more your style?”
When she turned, Bram was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back. His expression was the same every time she caught a glimpse of him—a general disdain for most things mingled with an inner sarcasm he barely tried to cover up. But she knew he liked her; he just didn’t show it.
Bram was as tall and handsome as the other humanoid males. It helped they could basically pick their appearances when they shifted. Bram’s was sculpted down to a T. Most aliens didn’t bother, but Bram was a man all about att
ention to detail. If he’d been born on Earth, he would have been pegged as gay. Up here, however, things were a bit more complicated.
She walked over to Bram, offering him a welcoming smile. “What’s going on today, Bramy? Marriages to arrange. Women to abduct?”
He glowered. “You know I am not allowed to procure human females, not since the last escapade. Though, if you ask me, he might be a little bit more grateful since I was the one who secured him his mate.” Bram rolled his eyes.
She smiled, running her finger down his chest. Always in the same attire, Bram preferred crisp white T-shirts and pants. His blond hair was always brushed back in a perfect wave.
“I’m bored,” she teased. “You wanna get out of here and have some fun?”
He wiped his hand down the front of his shirt, straightening non-existent wrinkles. “I have work to do.”
“Great.” She brightened. “Let me help you.”
His brow furrowed. “Don’t you have hair to braid?”
It was a mean and dismissive comment. Brandy sucked her teeth, trying not to let the hurt show on her face. “I have skills, you know. I’m smart.”
Bram didn’t answer her. His eyes were drawn to something on one of the control panels. Striding over to a flashing wall, he left Brandy and conferred with the beast watching the monitor.
They spoke in their strange alien voices. Brandy only knew a few words in their language and they weren’t using any of them, but something was clear—Bram was concerned. He kept touching the lit symbols, his face growing redder and his brow more furrowed.
Brandy sidled up beside him. “Bram, what’s wrong?”
He ignored her, heading to another wall and pressing his hand to it. Han’s voice came in over the loudspeakers. “What is it?”
“Sire,” Bram said, his voice shaky, “we have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Han said.
“It’s the Hugrathian clan. One of their ships just appeared in this solar system.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The commlink dropped, and Bram wrung his hands nervously.
“Who are they?” Brandy asked.
Bram’s eyes flicked to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “They are a rival clan, our sworn enemies and one of the most ruthless races in the universe. A big deal as you might say.”
Brandy’s eyes widened. “And they’re coming this way?”
“It appears so, but do not worry your pretty head. Han can deal with them.”
Brandy turned to see the ship sliding into view on the screen. It was similar in shape to their own, smooth and egg-shaped, but theirs was obsidian, making it hard to spot. As she watched, the ship seemed to disappear entirely.
“Where’d they go?” she asked.
Bram whirled around. “A cloaking device. Can our scanners pick them up?”
Bram hurried away, but Brandy began to feel a strange sensation take hold of her body. It was as if each individual atom inside her was coming apart. When she held her hand up to her face, she could see her skin pixelating.
“Bram,” she called, but then she couldn’t speak. Soon, the room grew dark. Her ears stopped picking up sound. Panic was her brain’s last input. After that, nothing.
Suddenly, her body began stitching itself together. It was the most strange and unnatural feeling, like bits of her were sticking together like drops of water on a windshield, slipping down to form one whole.
Lurching forward, she touched her limbs, her head. She could see and hear. Thank God, was still intact.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.”
Brandy spun so fast she almost fell, fear making her dizzy. She was on a ship similar to the one she’d just left, except everything glowed a dark purple as if everything was lit by black light. She didn’t have much time to notice anything else, because several large males across the room caught her attention. They were examining her as if she were a piece of meat.
“Who are you?” she asked, taking a step back until her back bumped into a smooth wall.
The male in the center smiled. He appeared to be an alien shifter in human form just like Han and his brothers. These males had adopted very different appearances from Han’s people, though. They were tattooed badasses—almost like they were straight out of Sons of Anarchy—leather, shit-kicker boots, tight T-shirts, and smug faces. Brandy shivered as their eyes roved over her.
“What do you want?” she asked, voice reed thin.
The center male finally answered, his tone superior. “We want what anyone wants. Revenge. And you are the first step in our plan.”
2
Brandy’s darted from face to face, trying to form an escape plan. The men were blocking any exit—not that she’d be able to get off this ship anyway. Behind them, more alien soldiers waited, these in beast form. Brown, gold, and green-scaled skin flexed over their gigantic muscled arms. Their slitted red eyes zeroed in like laser beams. Disproportionately large jaws held rows of fangs that always made her shiver. These creatures had elongated heads and even longer claws. If the aliens on Han’s ship were the stuff of nightmares, these beasts were her worst fears realized.
And she’d bet no one here had told them they weren’t allowed to touch her upon threat of death.
A choking panic made her hands tremble as she held onto the wall behind her. This could not be happening. Brandy’s eyes scanned the bridge, finally spotting the screen and what it displayed—a vast blanket of stars and Han’s ship, the large egg-like vehicle in Earth’s outer orbit. But it was so far away.
“Miss your lover?” the male asked, stepping forward.
Brandy shrank back as much as she could, which wasn’t far since she was already against the wall. She sized him up, a strange mix of fear and excitement filling her.
He was handsome in a terrifying way—huge arms and chest beneath a black T-shirt and tight pants made from a leather-like material that moved like cotton. When he stalked her way, his black combat boots thundered on the floor. Dark slicked-back hair framed his blue eyes. His chin and jaw were stubbled with a day’s worth of growth. He was the kind of guy she would’ve fallen for on Earth—one who spelled his name with a capital T for trouble. And it had always ended badly.
Which was likely how this would go.
“Stay away from me.” She huddled into herself, trying not to let them see her tremble.
He grinned, his eyes slitting like a predator’s. “I would think you’d be more grateful to your hosts. After all, you’ll be staying with us for a while. I’m Drake and these are my brothers, Tork and Wrek.”
“No,” Brandy said, refusing to believe. “I’m not staying a while. They’ll come for me. Han—”
“Yes, Han,” he said, interrupting her. “He’s exactly the person I wanted to talk to you about. I bet he’s missing you right now. Frantic. Losing his mind.” He made a gesture with his hands around his head to mimic how upset Han must be.
Brandy didn’t think Han would be worried after losing her, but she didn’t want this guy to know it. “Probably. And he’s going to destroy you when he finds out you’ve taken me.”
Drake smiled humorlessly. “Destroy me?” He cut his eyes to the males to his right and left. “That’s hilarious.”
He was acting like a cartoon villain. If Brandy weren’t so afraid, she might laugh. Why was he trying so hard to be nasty? Did he think he had to impress her with how evil he was?
His brother, the one he’d called Wrek, appeared more serious than smug. “We should open a commlink now. Transmit our demands.”
“Demands?” Brandy asked.
The brother on the left, Tork, shook his head. His expression was dark and calculating. “Let him stew without his mate for a while. Wonder what we are doing to her.” He widened his eyes in a way Brandy didn’t like.
Wait, had he said Han’s mate?
“Who do you think I am?” Brandy asked.
“Han’s female,” Drake said. “Charis.”
It was Brandy’s turn to laugh. “Charis? I’m not Charis. You guys have beamed up the wrong girl.”
All three males stared at each other. The serious one, Wrek, came forward with a black cylinder in his hand. He began running it up and down her body. “This one is not pregnant. Hadn’t you heard Han’s mate was pregnant? You said it was why we were attacking.”
Confusion washed over the faces of the other two.
Brandy laughed harder. “You messed up. You abducted the wrong girl. What kind of fly-by-night operation are you running here, anyway?”
Drake and Tork shot menacing looks at Wrek, who held up his hands. “I scanned the ship, then picked up the female who was closest to Han. Why wouldn’t he pick the most beautiful female for himself?”
Most beautiful female, eh? Wrek was quickly becoming her favorite.
“Guess you can just send me back,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Wrek strutted to the ship’s wall where a set of glowing symbols awaited. He began manipulating them. “It’s no good. Now they know we are here, their shields are up. We won’t be able to beam anyone else out. Not unless we can get those shields down.”
Drake seethed, stalking around the room as if wanting someone to blame. Brandy sank against the wall, hoping to avoid his wrath.
Tork held up his hands. “Don’t blame me. You gave this mission to Wrek when I told you he couldn’t handle it. If you’d have left it up to me, we’d have his mate here and a desperate Han on the commlink. Now we have nothing.” He gestured at Brandy in apparent disgust.
Nothing? She wanted to protest, but Drake stalked toward her. Cowering, she tried to grow smaller as he towered over her, veins on his neck pulsing. “I hope you have more to offer than a nice set of tits.”