by K. A Knight
“You vekking mishan!” is shouted through the morfka’s closing doors, leaving me alone with my mate.
Shiloh just looks at me, shaking her head. I shrug my shoulders in response.
Not sorry.
“What would you like to see first? The dining area perhaps? You must be starving after being bound to that mountain today. All cold and vulnerable with thousands of eyes wandering over your body.” Her gaze widens as she relives it.
Okay, I probably could have left out that last bit.
“I, myself, am feeling ravenous,” I continue, directing the comm screen to take us to the dining area.
Only, it’s not food I wish to eat.
Unlike Earth elevators, our morfka moves in all directions. It can take us up and down as well as sideways. Every room has access to the morfka, making J-Lo one of the most efficient battleships in the fleet. As generals, we’re supplied with only the best. Our ship is engineered with the newest tech, and our armament contains the finest and most powerful weapons, giving us optimal odds of success if we are to engage in combat.
And of that we can be sure.
With the Yarek threat still persistent and other lifeforms searching the stars for planets like Oxious—E Grade planets that can sustain life—to takeover for their own needs, we never know when we will be required to fight.
But we’re vekking ready.
The morfka halts, and the doors open directly into our cafeteria.
Shiloh frowns. “I thought there would be food in the dining area?”
“There is, little flyer.” I pull her from the morfka and farther into the room, wrapping my arm around her bare shoulders. The feel of her skin against mine is almost enough to make me come in my pants.
Almost.
I point to the replicator on the wall. “See that? It can give you anything you wish. Simply tell it what you want, and your desires will come true.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me like she doesn’t think it will work, but walks over to the machine anyway. I stroll up behind her, placing my hands on her hips, and give her curves a possessive squeeze. Unable to restrain myself, I pull her hair aside and place a soft kiss on the crook of her neck. Her breath hitches, her pulse fluttering under my lips. I know I’m moving fast for my newly acquired mate, but I just can’t contain my fierce desire for her. I have to touch her, taste her, or I fear I’ll go insane.
I plant kisses up her neck, her jaw, and lick the shell of her ear. “Go ahead, little flyer. Ask it.”
“Umm.” Her voice is breathy, trembling, and the luscious scent of her musk fills my nose, making my mouth water in anticipation. “I-I want…” Her voice trails off when my wandering hands find a hardened nipple and give it a tug. She gasps, and it’s the sweetest, sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I know I need to pull back. If the guys come in here and see me mauling our mate within the first ten minutes she’s aboard J-Lo, they won’t be happy with me.
Removing my hands from her body is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. My skin craves hers, my heart beating in tandem with her own.
Balling my hands into fists, I nod towards the replicator. “Ask.”
She looks at me, her bright cerulean eyes locking onto my yellow orbs. Her throat works as she swallows and licks her lips. It takes every ounce of strength I have not to crush my mouth into hers. “Umm. May I have a hot chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie…please?”
Glowing light fills the open replicator receptacle. It swirls and sparks before turning so bright you have to look away. Then, it’s all over, and a filled plate rests before her eyes, crowded with the unappetizing Earth food she requested.
“Go on,” I encourage her. “Take it.”
Her lips frown in disgust. “I’m not eating that.”
Looking over the wiggling plate, I have to agree with her. “Is that not what you ordered?”
She looks at me, perplexed. “Haven’t you ever had a chocolate chip cookie before?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Would you eat food that’s still alive and has…one, two, three, four, five eyeballs? I can’t eat something that’s watching me. And it totally forgot about my hot chocolate.” She crosses her arms under her chest, pushing her perfect breasts together. I just want to bury my face between them.
“What is hot chocolate like then?” I query, after taking a calming breath and forcing myself to look at her eyes.
“Well… It’s a sweet, warm drink made with sugar, milk, and cocoa.” Her eyes light up just talking about it. “Sometimes in the Harvest House, if we were well behaved, we’d get tiny little marshmallows in our hot chocolate.” She licks her lips as she remembers.
“I think I know something you’d enjoy. Allow me.” I scoot her over, clear my throat, and say to the replicator, “Tackaryn.”
This time, I’m rewarded with exactly what I ordered—a fresh, steaming hot cup of Tackaryn. I grab the mug and hand it to Shiloh. “Here. Take a sip. This will put your hot chocolate to shame.”
Shiloh wraps her hand around the cup and her fingers graze mine. Just that little touch makes me shiver. Our eyes connect, her breath catches, and I know she feels it too. The connection between us sizzles, as if fire kisses our skin when we touch.
Fire like my skin.
Fire like her flame-kissed hair.
Reluctantly, I release the mug and allow her to pull it close. She smells it first, a smile gracing her beautiful face, then puts her plump lips on the rim and sips.
The moan resulting from her appreciation of the Tackaryn makes blood flood to my cock. “Like it?” I manage to inquire.
“I love it!” She goes in for another taste, and I find myself jealous of the cup as her lips curve around the rim.
Vekking cup.
Kissing my mate before I get a chance.
I want to yank the porcelain from her hand and throw it against the wall, watching the pieces scatter around the room like confetti. I know that’s irrational but…
“Come on,” I say, trying to distract myself by curving my arm around her waist. “Would you like to see your room?”
“I have my own room?” she asks happily.
“Of course! You are our mate. You will have nothing but the best life has to offer.”
“Are you really generals?” she questions, taking another sip from her traitorous cup.
I puff out my chest proudly. “We are, little flyer. All four of us.” Adding a little pressure to the small of her back, I guide her into the morfka. “During the Great War, my—our Klan, Klan Avuk, changed the tide of the war.” The doors close, and I dispatch the morfka to the housing deck while Shiloh watches intently, her delicate fingers curled around her cup. “The Yarek had infiltrated Earth, decimating not only the vegetation and fossil fuels, but also its people.”
She eyes me indignantly. “Yeah, yeah. This is a story I’ve been told hundreds of times in Harvest House.”
“That may be true,” I acknowledge, crossing my arms over my chest. I grin when I see her eyes following the movement, her gaze caressing my skin. “But did you know that our Klan went rogue? That we went against the kings’ orders in a reckless attempt to change the fate of the Totiv as well as your people?”
Her eyes widen in shock, her plump lips parting in a gasp. “What happened?”
“We kicked ass is what. Our Klan infiltrated the largest Yarek compound and destroyed it. The decimation of their base caused a communications blackout, allowing Totiv to take over compounds all over the planet.”
“Wow,” she exclaims with reverence on her face. “My Klan is a bunch of badasses.”
I can’t help but laugh, and she giggles along with me.
“Our Klan alone changed the balance of the war. We were promoted to generals as soon as the kings heard of our reckless, but successful, contribution to the war effort.”
She chews on her lip, tucking a piece of her flaming red hair behind her ear. “How long ago was that? I mean
, the war was over a hundred years ago.”
“One hundred and five to be exact.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in shock. “S-So you’re over a hundred years old?”
“Closer to two hundred, little flyer.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Hope you like older mates.”
Her skin flushes again, her chest turning from white to crimson in an instant. I wonder what other parts of her would look like with a splash of red. I’m saved from my own thoughts when the morfka comes to a halt.
“Vekking shit,” I curse with a groan when the doors open and reveal Trov’s face.
“I had Joss highjack the morfka,” he admits with a smug grin. Trov steps inside the morfka and wraps his large arm around Shiloh’s shoulders. “Go to your quarters, Cryk. I’ll take it from here.”
Nine
Trov
I keep my arm around Shiloh as Cryk skulks away pouting. Grinning, I direct the morfka to the armoury. I want to show her my work environment so she can see how strong her mates really are. Yes, I want to impress her and see her eyes light up the way they did with that mishan.
She cuddles closer to my side. I don’t think she even realises she is doing it, but it makes me puff my chest out as she sips her drink. The movement of the morfka is smooth, not even jolting as it pulls to a stop and the door opens. The floor is a sleek white here, with automatic warm white lights that flicker on as we step out into the hallway. Keeping my arm around her, I lead her to the left and the qube—or scanner, as the humans call them—comes out above the door.
It flashes green, crossing both our bodies. Once satisfied with its findings, the qube opens the door with an audible click. I’m guessing Joss has already added her into the system so she can walk around the ship freely without setting off any blarens. Sneaky little bastard must have scanned her while we were on the okkren and uploaded it to J-Lo.
“Wow, what was that?” she asks, peering up at me.
“A biometric qube-scanner, a security precaution. We also have eye scanners, body readers, and weapon detectors built into the doorway,” I answer proudly. “My own inventions.”
“Really?” she exclaims, gaping at me. “That’s incredible, Trov.”
“I know security.” I shrug and guide her through the door, then release her so she can look around. “This is my bay, it’s the armoury and security headquarters, feel free to explore. Just don’t touch any weapons, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
She gazes around nervously, and I am worried I have scared her. Wanting to ease her mind, I press my hand to her back and manoeuvre her to the wall on the left. Rows and rows of weapons fill the space floor to ceiling. Her eyes light up at seeing all the different kinds, which are arranged by size and function.
At the top there are opressens, which are very large and slightly round, and they fire out an explosive type blast that can bring down even a ship like ours. Below them are more hitrels like I carry, all modified for different types of engagements from simple firing to incapacitating to pain. Then, of course, there are bakkets, but just above them is my favourite—the egren. It is a long version of the bakkets, but the handle splits down the middle as does the blade, breaking into two when you are fighting close range, and curved at the edges to point outwards.
They call me obsessive, but I love working with blades and shooters, taking them apart to figure out how they work and putting them back together, cleaning them…using them. Vekk, my cock gets hard at the thought, especially when Shiloh steps forward and traces her hand across the lowest shelf of blades, her scent mingling with the metallic fragrance of my weapons.
“There are so many,” she murmurs in awe.
“I have my Klan, and now you, to protect. A lot of these I helped customise to ensure perfection,” I inform her, stepping closer. Unable to help myself, I press my body against her small back and wrap my arms around her, my hard cock nudging the base of her spine. “I am a lethal mate, I have to be, but I would like to teach you how to use some of these if you want to. It’s my way of bonding. If I teach you, it’s because I care.” I hold my breath as I wait for her reaction.
“Really? Yes!” She grins excitedly, turning in my arms, but then she swallows when I duck my head closer to breathe in her tantalising scent again.
“Good, they can be hard to master, but I have no doubt you will. After all, if you can handle us, you can handle them…”
She stares at me, her eyes wide and body snug against mine, undoubtedly feeling my hardness pressed against her. I smell her arousal, and it makes me growl.
She nervously sucks in a breath, and I force myself to step back with a low rumble. I don’t want to push her into this, she needs to get used to us, and I don’t want her to be overwhelmed, she is so small.
Plucking the cup from her shaking fingers, I place it onto a table, ignoring the discomfort of it being so close to my weapons, and lead her farther into the room.
I try to conceal my excitement as I continue to show her around, exhibiting my life and inviting her to be part of it. She asks lots of questions, selecting weapons at random, and I explain how they work. I even show her some by escorting her to the range at the back and firing at a few targets.
She seems in awe of them all and a little scared, but I make sure to touch her now and again to comfort her the only way I know how—I’m not exactly good at words like Cryk. She hops up on a chair near my work bench as I move about, placing everything back in its spot.
“Does the ship have guns, erm, the things on your hips?” she inquires, swinging her legs back and forth as the chair floats above the floor. It’s adorable, and I find myself inching closer, wanting to touch her again, to pull her into my arms and protect her. She provokes that protective instinct in me, and as much as I want to explore her body and pierce her with my cock, I want to hold her just as much.
“Yes,” I reply, stroking my lijik, and she tilts her head with a little smile, urging me to go on. Grunting, I try for her. “Eight to be exact, four on the front and back. One is made of a light and heat source called liva, and the others fire projectiles. We also have a protective netting called trekl, which is built from pure electricity at its finest, and acts like armour protecting us from fire.” I rattle off the information like I am reading the instructions, and she giggles, making me blink.
“Very informative,” she teases, and I huff at that. “What about flying? Is there a pilot or…?”
“Yes.” I force myself to carry on before she can prompt me. “We all know how to pilot the ship. I usually man the guns, as you call it, but I often like to fly at night when I can’t sleep.”
“Can I try?” she questions, almost squealing the words as her eyes fill with hope. Her plump bottom lip sticks out, and I have to suppress the urge to bite it. “Please, I’ve always wanted to fly.”
And because I am clearly a mishan and under her spell, I say yes.
I take her back to the morfka, and we ascend vertically to the bridge. We have to pass another qube to enter with it being a restricted zone. When the door opens, she rushes through with wide eyes, staring at the sight before her.
It makes me look at it again, and for once, I notice the beauty that is the ship we call home. At the very front is the protected glass of the viewers, which allows us to gaze out into space. In times of war, we usually shut them, but for now, we leave them open. We all like viewing the blackness of space and watching the stars and planets pass, it’s a beauty like no other…well, almost as beautiful as our mate.
At the back, with screens on either side for navigation, communication, and weapons, is the captain’s chair. In front are the first and second mates’ chairs for when we are in battle. To the left is the communication desk, and to the right is the hovering unilet. Floating above the silver, magnetised desk with sensors and mapping capabilities is the replica of the planet and solar system.
She heads towards it, her hand reaching out like she wants to touch it. “You can,” I tell her.
Her hand passes through the reproduction of our planet and she wiggles her fingers around delicately which makes it zoom out, showing more of space. “It’s a map,” she whispers.
I head her way and flick through it, showing her the basic usage as she watches me greedily. “It’s amazing, like a 3D version, I can almost touch it.” She shakes her head, staring at the universe spread before her. “Have you been to any of these planets?”
“Some,” I reply.
“You must think I’m very…limited,” she whispers, looking away.
Grabbing her chin, I force her to meet my gaze none too gently. “No, I think your upbringing limited you, that does not make you limited. But now, little human, the universe is yours. Where do you want to go? What do you want to see? You only have to ask, and we will take you there. We will do anything as long as it’s safe for you.”
She frowns. “Why wouldn’t it be safe? Is it because I’m your mate?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. “And because we all want to see that look in your eyes, like the one blazing there now. We all want to impress you, to make you happy, to keep you with us forever.”
“I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say aside from your love of weapons.” She laughs but leans against my chest, dropping a kiss there which sends my heart pounding and makes my cock rock-hard again, aching to be buried in that mouth.
“Fly,” I blurt out, trying to distract myself from throwing her over the chairs and taking her, making her scream my name for all our Klan to hear. “Let’s fly,” I repeat calmer, and she giggles as I lead her to the captain’s chair and pull her onto my lap.
Wiggling to get comfy, she presses her ample rear against my cock, making me growl and her still. “Behave, little human, or you will find out I am not a gentle giant.”
“So sorry,” she mutters, but I smell her arousal again, and it makes me grip her harder and drag her back over my jerking cock. “How, erm, how do you fly this thing?” she questions, distracting me. I am moments away from ripping off the dress Joss made and sinking into her wet heat right here and now, forcing her to take my cock as I pound into her from behind.