Marauder Cygnus: A Scifi Alien Shifter Romance (Mating Wars Book 1)

by Aya Morningstar

  She sighs and rolls her eyes. “One thing at a time, I guess. ‘Please’ is a good place to start.”

  9 Aura

  Just as I’m about to ask him about his brother again, Seth interrupts.

  “Aura, ummm, a Mr. Scorpio has sent you a message.”

  “Who is Scorpio?” I ask. “Do we know a Scorpio…?”

  “It’s the pirate captain,” Seth says.

  Cygnus smashes his fists into the table, then jolts to his feet. “We destroyed his life support! If he lives, we must go back and kill him!”

  I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze, but then I realize how good his muscular arm feels in my hand, so I blush and pull away.

  “Relax, Cygnus,” I say. “Let’s play the message first.”

  I’m anything but relaxed, and I honestly am afraid to play the message. Watching Cygnus shovel food into his face like a barbarian and seeing how much he enjoyed it had hugely lightened my mood. I’d been just ready to believe that we’d escaped death by a hairsbreadth, but now death had a name, and it was Scorpio.

  “Play it,” I say, my stomach churning.

  Scorpio’s face flashes onto the screen. Four horrid gashes are torn across his face. They are still bloody and swollen, and one of his eyes is gone. He’s not bothered to put in a prosthetic or even cover it up with something. It’s just a big gaping hole edged by a sagging eyelid.

  “Hello, lovelies,” he says. “I just wanted to give the scrap queen a chance to get herself out of this mess. This will be my final fucking offer, so I’d recommend you think it over real hard. Put the alien into an escape pod and shoot him straight back. We’ll scoop him up and let you go. I was gonna’ pay you the first time I offered, but this time your payment is me not fucking killing you real nice and slow. I know you’re going to Mars, and judging by your record, you ain’t got the money to take sanctuary on the habitats. So, if you don’t do the smart thing, me and my boys will see you on the surface, and we’ll get the alien either way. Only difference is you’ll die on that rusty shithole of a planet. Scorpio, out!”

  The screen shuts off and Cygnus roars, slamming the bacon pan onto the table with a loud bang. “We should have found his body! I’ve failed to protect you!”

  Protect...me? That’s what this is about?

  “Cygnus, we—”

  “Put me in the escape pod!” he commands angrily. “All I need is a blade. I’ll cut through all of his new crew. You will be free, and after I kill them all and clear my debt of greatest shame, I will find my way to Mars and rescue my brother. Are Martian women suitable mates?”

  “You’re not going on an escape pod,” I say flatly. “Scorpio’s not going to make the same mistake again. He knows how strong and powerful you are.” I hope flattery convinces him not to go. “There’s simply no way you’ll be able to tear through his whole crew again.”

  Cygnus raises the pan and looks ready to slam it down again, so I grab his wrist and disarm him of the pan.

  Still holding his wrist, I look into his eyes, trying to convey the foolishness of his plan . “Please, can you trust me?”

  He tilts his head and his ears pull back, flattening against his head. “For a female,” he says, “you’re formidable. It’s a pity you are not willing to breed with me, as our offspring would make excellent Marauders.”

  I shake my head and suppress a smile. “Cygnus,” I say. “This is kind of like a plate and silverware situation. Do you know what ‘subtlety’ means?”

  “It means being weak,” he says.

  “No,” I say. “Not exactly.”

  He squints at me and his ears twitch.

  “It means,” I say, “not grabbing all the bacon off of a hot pan and shoveling it into your face. It means not asking a woman point-blank if she is attracted to your penis and wants to ‘breed’ with you. You’re not a bad guy, but if you want to attract a human mate, you’ll need to learn to be a little bit more subtle.”

  “So,” he says, “it’s an issue of protocol?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Something like that.”

  “I see,” he says. “So even though I am drawn to your breasts, and even though I find your freckles intoxicating, I should not say it without subtlety?”

  “Yes,” I say, with a grin. “Exactly.”

  His ears perk up and he starts to grin. “And,” he says, “drawing this to further conclusions, if you, for instance, were attracted to my penis and wanted to breed with me. Protocol would require you not to say it so frankly.”

  My face burns red. I turn around to hide my embarrassment, but say nothing.

  Even when this cocky alien is trying to be subtle, he’s blunt as a battering ram.

  “I need to know,” I say, changing the topic. “What side are you on?”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “Your race is invading us,” I say, “and it’s already started a war between Earth and the Mars-Venus Coalition.”

  “I see,” he says. “You’ve seen me fight, and do you really think this war will matter when my entire race is here?”

  “Did you brother want to warn us?” I ask. “I owe you a lot for saving me, I really do, but I owe it to humanity to warn them of your race’s intentions.”

  “I don’t think warning them will do much,” Cygnus says. “Humanity can prepare all they like, we’ll still dominate them.”

  “So what did your brother think?” I ask.

  Cygnus looks down and gets quiet.

  “You said he was religious,” I add, prompting him to continue.

  “He believes that humans are different. That interbreeding with you will create the true Seraphic Form.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “It means Aegus believes that we would no longer need to be Marauders. That our offspring would be fertile without needing to invade a new system.”

  “Oh,” I say. “So he wanted to come here early and...prove it?”

  “Yes,” Cygnus answers. “But his pod crash-landed on Mars. I was able to scan just before falling into the belt. He didn’t have enough power or life support left to wake from hibernation.”

  “If we could prove to the incoming fleet that humans could create the—uh—Seraphic Form, would it stop the invasion?” I ask.

  “No,” Cygnus says. “It would change it, however. It would likely split the invasion into two camps. One side would want to peacefully co-exist with you, the other would want to eradicate you.”

  I feel my stomach knot up, but I risk asking the question heavy on my mind. “Which side would you take?”

  “That depends,” Cygnus says. “Do all human females have such nice freckles?” He grins wide and then says, “That was a subtle answer, yes?”

  “Yes,” I say, eyes wide. “Very subtle.”

  I lick my lips, and I’m not surprised to realize I’m blushing.

  The trip to Mars from the belt takes about five days. I quickly realize that there’s not enough food for the seven-foot tall alien and the weird parasite suit thing he has attached to his arm. He offers to hibernate to conserve supplies, and I reluctantly agree.

  He still has a bad knife and bullet wound, and he says that hibernation will help it heal more quickly.

  I’ve been alone on the Zephyr for years now, and after having Cygnus’ company, it’s hard to give it up. He goes into the greenhouse to hibernate, where the carbon dioxide he gives off during hibernation will help feed the plants.

  During the trip, I occasionally go up to the greenhouse to “look at the plants.” They are all hydroponic and their care is automated, so there’s no real need for me to check on them. I know I’m fooling myself, because every time I say I’m going up there to look at the plants, it’s really so I can look at Cygnus instead.

  He wants to breed with me. Jesus. I’ve had guys sleep with me before, but none have ever wanted to breed with me. It sounds so much more primal, but I find that something about it turns me on.

  Cygnus took his robe
off to hibernate, and I can see his big teal cock looming over me every time I visit the greenhouse. I try not to look at it, because if the situations were reversed, I’d be intensely creeped out at the thought of him staring between my legs while I sleep. So, I just glance at it occasionally out of the corner of my eye, as if it were the sun.

  Scorpio doesn’t send me any more messages, and Seth and I focus most of our scans behind us, looking for any ships in pursuit. We find nothing.

  All of my Martian contacts are on the surface. None of the snooty orbitals would dare lower themselves to the level of buying scrap and junk from the asteroid belt.

  If I had a way to contact my sister, I would. She could tell her superiors on Earth, and they might believe her. But she’s lost to me because of the war, and the difficulty of getting a message through to her unmonitored.

  Ending the war would mean I could talk to my sister again, make sure she’s safe. I’m in a serious bind, though, because the one way I could get everyone to believe me and potentially end the war, is giving up Cygnus.

  That’s not something I’m willing to do, even though it seems like the logical choice. But I can’t. And I won’t.

  Seth helps me run all the computer models and decision trees, and we agree our best bet is to keep Cygnus under wraps while looking for support from my surface contacts. The main issue is that I’ve come back from my belt run empty-handed—aside from Cygnus—and I’ll have to rely on favors and sympathy instead of bartering. The Martian surface is a harsh place, and there’s little sympathy to ever be found there.

  10 Cygnus

  I awake from hibernation to a cold ship. It’s cold for me, which means it must be even colder to the weak female.

  I unstrap myself from the harnesses and realize that we’re in zero-g. Could it mean we’re already in orbit around the red planet?

  I grab the ladder and pull myself forward toward the cockpit.

  When I reach it, I find the female clasping a shiny metal blanket all around her body.

  “Update me on our status,” I say. “PLEASE!” I add loudly, after a brief pause.

  “Shh!” she says, holding a finger to her full lips. “We have to be quiet!” she whispers.

  I look around and realize all the lights are off. The only illumination is coming from Sol itself through the windows. I look out and see the red surface of Mars, Sol over its horizon.

  “We’re here!” I say, forgetting to whisper.

  “Shh!” the female makes that same sound again, this time in an angry tone. “We’ve gone dark. I’ve shut almost everything down to minimize our chance of being detected.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Someone is looking for me,” she says. “For us.”

  “Who?”

  “It could be someone Scorpio contacted to intercept us. I don’t know, but I barely managed to shake them.”

  I move closer to the woman and notice her jaw is trembling. The blanket too is shaking, as her whole body must be freezing.

  “You’ll die,” I say.

  “We’ll die, too, if I turn the heat back on,” she says. “They’ll detect us and capture or kill us before we can slip away to the surface.”

  “Then we abandon ship and go to the surface,” I suggest. “Before you freeze.”

  “As soon as the dropship starts its re-entry burn, we’ll get snagged. It’s like a signal flare. We just have to wait them out.”

  “I see,” I say, crossing my arms. “I have additional heat, however.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t feel very cold, but you do. Hibernation has helped me retain a great deal of energy,” I say, moving closer to her. I float right next to her in her pilot’s seat. I lick my lips as I admire the freckles on her cheek and nose…like constellations of stars.

  “I’m fine, Cygnus,” she says. “It’s not the first time I’ve gone dark and froze my ass off.”

  I smile and pull at the blanket covering her. It opens up and I float inside, wrapping it closed around us both.

  I see her eyes widen in surprise. I wrap my arms around her body and press myself snuggly against her.

  “Extra warmth,” I say. “You see?”

  She looks angry for a brief moment, but then her face softens, and I feel her small hands clasp around my back.

  “Jesus,” she says. “You really are warm.”

  Finally, I can feel her soft breasts, though the feeling is dampened through the thick fabric of her jumpsuit.

  “And you are soft, human,” I say.

  “Cygnus,” she says. “Can you call me Aura, just this once? PLEASE!” I include the loud, gruff command as added encouragement.

  She evoked the full force of the command word, and though I feel it wrong to use her childless name, her eyes look fierce and serious, and I find myself unable to object.

  “Aura,” I say. “I see you.”

  11 Aura

  He sees me. What does that mean? At least he finally called me by name. It seems that using his awkward shouting of “please” did the trick.

  His body is pressing against me and I no longer feel numb. As the feeling comes back to my limbs, I crave more of his warmth. I want to get closer to him.

  His cock is semi-hard and pressing into my stomach, but I can’t see it through the blanket. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other, and I realize I don’t want him to let go of me.

  “That was subtle,” I say.

  “What was?” he asks.

  “The way you got your naked ass under this blanket with me. It was a subtle trick. You’re a quick learner.”

  “No trick, female—Aura—I needed to protect you from freezing.”

  “So you don’t want to be naked and pressed up against me like this?” I ask coyly.

  I feel a vibration on my stomach.

  “My penis is vibrating,” Cygnus says. “It seems to think you are my mate.”

  I slide my hand across his back, around his waist, and then I reach down to grab hold of his giant teal dick.

  His eyes widen in surprise as I grip his cock firmly in my right hand and drag my fingers up and down its length, smiling to myself as it starts vibrating and hardening in my hand.

  “I’ve reconsidered,” Cygnus says in a thick voice, his green eyes boring darkly into mine.

  “Yes?” I say, returning his gaze while I continue rubbing my thumb rhythmically up and down his thick and gloriously warm shaft.

  “I think your eyes are just the correct distance apart. It suits your personality.”

  “And I think your cheekbones are at just the right height,” I say, laughing. “And I think your big cock is just perfect.”

  “So why did you want me to cover it?” he asks.

  “Subtlety,” I say slyly and wink.

  “Remove your clothes, woman,” he says.

  He’s already forgotten to call me Aura, but in this context, I don’t mind.

  We work together to remove my clothes, and the blanket floats away, as well. I’m not cold at all anymore.

  I reach down to take hold of his cock again, which I see is fully erect now and vibrating slightly in my hand.

  “Can you control that?” I ask, referring to the vibration.

  “No,” he says. “It will increase with my pleasure.”

  “Oh,” I say. “That’s good.”

  He grins. “For your pleasure.”

  “Yes,” I say. “I picked up on that.”

  He grabs my breasts and squeezes lightly. And though his calloused hand is big and powerful, he fondles me with a light touch.

  “We are not a subtle race,” he says. “But in the battle of sex, we understand the value of a light touch.”

  He gently caresses my nipple, and I start to moan. His other hand runs along my waist, then dips down and squeezes my ass.

  I tighten the grip of his cock in my hand, and I notice its vibrations increasing.

  He grins, and his ears go back. H
e pulls me into him.

  Our lips meet, and immediately his tongue seizes control. His mouth is warm, and though all of him is so rock hard, his tongue and lips are soft. I apply gentle pressure to massage his tongue with my own. I’m still in disbelief that I’m making out with an alien, but it feels too good and too right to consider stopping.

  We’re floating through the cockpit, our bodies and tongues entangled.

  I continue stroking his hard cock in a methodical rhythm, and he squeezes my nipple and ass in response.

  I stifle another moan and pull away from his mouth. Without missing a beat, he moves his mouth’s attention down my throat and begins kissing and licking my neck, and then my collarbone. Slowly and steadily his path reaches my breasts.

  I bend back and stick my chest out. Cygnus takes this as the invitation it was meant to be and pulls my breast up to his mouth. He circles his tongue in rings around my pointed nipple, and then his teeth nibble on me.

  A shock jolts through me, and I feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter with each nibble.

  I jerk his dick faster, hoping he’ll grow impatient and spread my legs, but he seems fixated on my breasts. He squeezes one and rubs it, while he devotes his full mouth to the other. It feels incredible, but as my wetness pools, I get more and more impatient. I start grinding my hips into him.

  “Cygnus,” I plead. “Please.”

  “Please what?” he says, “Does that word mean anything without an accompanying order?”

  “Please,” I say again, and his ears wiggle in a way that I can’t help but interpret as smug and self-satisfied.

  “I thought you’d want subtlety,” he says, and then his hand reaches down between my legs.

  His fingers run against my outer mound, and I spread my legs wider in response.

  His cock is vibrating intensely now, and I squeeze hold of it rather than stroking. I need to focus on what Cygnus’s fingers are doing to me.

  They’re running up and down along my lips, trailing through my soaking moisture. His fingers trace near my clit, but they circle around it rather than touching it directly.