Stealing Shiloh

by K. A Knight

  An alien gym. Awesome.

  I avoid the sparring corner like Joss instructed, but I can’t tear my eyes away as the sounds of cheering and the dense thuds of skin hitting skin echo loudly in the arena. The noise makes me fearful. I want to show them I’m a good mate, not embarrass myself and them by getting my ass kicked. More than likely, these girls have been here on Oxious for a while now. Just that alone means they are probably going to be a lot tougher than me. Especially if they already have fucking horns or wings. No, first I’ll get stronger. I’ll spar with the bags and practice what I can remember from Carmen’s teachings before I go there.

  I spot a fierce-looking, older woman with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail standing over by the sparring mat with her huge arms crossed under her tiny breasts. Her harsh gaze is locked intently on the fighters. She barks something at someone and then glances around. Not wanting to be found staring, I duck my head and rush away, heading to the closest training obstacle.

  It turns out to be at least ten moving targets that float in the air. Unlike ones you see in Earth films, they don’t only move side to side or forwards and backwards. No, these ones are alive. The targets are actively moving in zigzags and crossways as if trying to avoid whatever you shoot at them. They’re made of some kind of wood with metal targets painted on them. The targets are a similar size to Trov and shaped like the aliens—some have tails, some have noticeable horns, but none have wings. I step up to the white line painted across the ground fifty metres back from the targets and grab what looks like a gun from the small wooden table next to me. There is an array of weapons ranging from throwing knives to the big blades my mates carry on their hips and across their backs. I also see more guns than I can count. I recognise many from the weapons room Trov took me to on J-Lo, and knowing I’ve seen some of these before gives me confidence.

  I can do this. I blew up a ship, so this should be easy.

  I glance over at the crowd, spotting most of the spectators watching whatever is happening in the sparring corner, but my Klan isn’t. Their eyes are locked on me, watching my every move, and they look hungry. Trov looks proud of my choice, his hand stroking his own gun as he watches me, and I notice the bulge in his black trousers. Joss nods encouragingly while Cryk winks, and Nul catches my eyes and smiles weakly, falsely, before looking away.

  Okay, I can do this.

  No pressure, let’s show them what I’m made of.

  Blowing out a calming breath, I turn and take aim at the targets. Fumbling with the gun, I try to see if there is a safety or a trigger, but all I find is a button on the side with a green, blinking light.

  Well, okay then.

  Picking a moving target at random, I line up my sights and press the button. The recoil from the shot throws me backwards, sending my ass crashing into the sand and knocking the breath out of my chest. I wasn’t prepared for the strength of the backlash. Grunting, I pick myself up, more determined than ever to see a small singe mark scorched across the moving target. As if it could hear my thoughts, the target zigzags over the ground, mocking me.

  Oh, you are going down, you little wooden bastard. When I’m done, you’re going to look like a wood chipper got a hold of you.

  I aim and fire again and again. This time my stance is wider and my arms are straighter and locked in place to stop me from falling back when the energy bursts from the weapon. Laughing, I keep going and going, the shots hit the targets more often than they miss, until I’ve hit every single one in the bullseye.

  Panting, I drop the gun to the table and look at the scorched targets, pride filling me up. I did that. Me. Not Carmen or with my Klan’s help, just me.

  Whooping comes from the stand and I turn to see my Klan on their feet, pride on their faces as they holler and bang their chests like cavemen. Grinning, I race back to the fence and hop over it with ease, heading towards my Klan. They all converge on me, grinning as they fight to wrap their arms around me, swinging me in the air as I laugh.

  “Amazing, little flyer!” Cryk gushes.

  “We will make a general out of you yet,” Trov rumbles.

  “That was incredible, Shiloh!” Joss adds.

  “You did very well,” Nul adds quietly.

  I go to thank them, but something catches my attention. The cheering and clapping for the fights has stopped. I can feel eyes on me, so I turn, my smile fading as I search the people in the fighting arena only to catch on a familiar form—cocky smile, bright green, mischievous eyes, long, lean, and bold with her signature auburn hair hanging over one shoulder.

  Carmen.

  I squeal in delight, I can’t help it. Relief and happiness flows through me at seeing her. She is my best friend, and although they promised she was here and I might see her, I didn’t believe it until now. Just the sight of her settles the uneasy feeling I’ve had, because wherever Carmen is will always be home. The smile stretches across my face as I look at her. My Klan quiets, glancing between me and her, but I ignore them. I can’t drag my gaze away. Tears fill my eyes as I stare. God, I’ve missed her so much. Everything here is so unfamiliar. Everything except her.

  Not us.

  I wiggle in my Klans’ arms, and as soon as they drop me to the floor, I rush to the fence surrounding the arena and lean against it. “Car!” I yell, needing to hear her voice, needing her to reassure me that she’s really here and that she’s okay.

  She winks at me, making me snort, and waves. I wave back but the muscular, fierce woman grabs her arms and drags her into the square. Of course, I should have guessed she would be fighting. It makes me laugh as I wrap my arms around myself, observing her.

  I watch as she focuses on the woman standing opposite her and scrutinises her skinny competitor. Then, the fierce woman steps onto the mat between them. “No weapons! First hit wins!” she booms out, and they both nod, locked on each other with death stares.

  My heart starts to race, my palms sweating. If anyone can win a fight, it’s Carmen, she never gives up, but that doesn’t mean I’m not anxious to watch her fight. She grins, a wide one that has my nerves settling.

  She’s got this.

  I feel my Klan come up behind me, their heat warming my back, but I can’t take my eyes away from Carmen and the fight.

  “Who is that?” one of them asks.

  “Shush,” I scold, leaning closer to the fence. The fight begins, and Carmen ducks under punches, blocking them before returning her own hits. They speed up, moving across the mat, both panting and sweating. Carmen moves like a dancer, all graceful, but there’s a wildness to it, a stubbornness, the will to win no matter what it takes. I realise the moment the other girl slips up, and I know Carmen sees her opening. I wince as she rams her elbow into the girl’s face, who then falls to her knees with a scream.

  Oops.

  The defeated girl’s Klan rushes over to help her up and carry her away. I breathe deep, thinking that’s it, but Carmen turns to the big woman and they exchange words. A moment later, another girl enters the ring. I have to watch Carmen fight twice more. She fights the last girl with knives, but she loves it, I can see it on her face and as I scan the crowds, I notice a purple Klan of aliens watching her like she is their world.

  They are mean-looking, huge, and fierce, with long tails twitching behind them, but they stare at her like she’s precious.

  I whoop and wave for Carmen, cheering her on as she takes down the last girl. She glances over to the purple Klan, her eyes wild and face hungry. Even dripping with sweat, she looks ready to go another four rounds, the crazy girl. She says something to the big woman at the edge of the mat before strolling over to me. I lean over the fence as she rests against it.

  Her eyes take in my Klan behind me and twinkle with awareness before they catch on mine, the familiarity there making me almost cry in happiness. “Hey, babe, missed you!” she shouts up to me. I lean down farther to try and talk to her, I have so many questions, but before I can, a loud noise has my head jerking around.

&
nbsp; Her Klan is storming this way, their eyes locked on Carmen like she’s their prey. She eats it up of course. Carmen looks back at me with a wink. “See you soon! I have a dick appointment!” she calls to me, as one of the bigger aliens reaches over the fence, plucks her up, and throws her over his shoulder.

  She laughs, the sound infectious and loud as Carmen and her Klan barrel from the arena. I watch her go, sad that we didn’t have longer, but happy I got to see her, to know she’s safe. I get it, the need to be with her Klan. I have my own Klan now that I can’t help but crave, can’t help but want to be around, and if they threw me over their shoulder like that, I would go willingly just like Carmen.

  I turn to them as they look from where Carmen disappeared and back to me. “Friend?” Trov asks, and I nod.

  Tears well in my eyes again, and he frowns. “Sorry, yeah, erm, that was Carmen, my best friend from Harvest House. I guess I didn’t believe she was really here, but seeing her—” My voice catches, and I see the sadness in their eyes at the hurt in mine. They want to help, to make it better, but I can tell they don’t know how.

  Then Nul steps forward, drawing my eyes to him. I’m shocked when he opens his arms for me, his face softening. I hiccup and rush into them, burying my head in his chest and inhaling his scent. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. The beating of his heart, his smell, and the safety I feel settles me until I’m just pressed against him, soaking up everything he has to offer.

  “I want in on that,” Cryk jokes, and I grunt as I feel him plaster himself against my back, wrapping his muscular arms around me. His hard cock presses into my ass as he wiggles closer, burying his head in my hair.

  “Me too,” Joss adds, and I feel him move to my side, squirming to get into the hug.

  “Vekk it,” Trov mutters, and I laugh as he wraps his arms around us all and tries to pick us up, making me laugh harder.

  “Killing me!” Cryk coughs dramatically, and Trov lets go. Cryk and Joss step away, and I lean back to look at Nul, who smiles softly down at me.

  Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, he leans his head down, murmuring, “We’ve got you, Shiloh, never be scared to ask for what you need. We are yours.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, clearing my throat. I step back and search Nul’s eyes for the truth. “I thought you didn’t like me. You barely talk to me, and you look at me even less. I—”

  “It’s because I like you so much, Sh-Shiloh,” Nul interrupts, running his finger down my jaw. “My heart aches when I look at you, and sometimes, I just can’t handle that.”

  I gasp at his admission. It all makes sense now. The denial and all the ignoring he did wasn’t because he doesn’t like me, it’s because he likes me too much, because he’s scared of these sudden feelings. I can understand that, I feel the same. We have more in common than I could have ever imagined.

  Cryk reaches out and twines our hands together and starts swinging them as he grins at me. “Come on, little flyer, let’s go home.”

  “Let’s.” I nod. Joss is right. They are mine, I am theirs, and I need to commit to this fully. This is my life, and I’m done waiting. It’s clear they’re trying to give me time to settle in, but I don’t want that.

  I want them.

  And I want them now.

  Sixteen

  Cryk

  Shiloh practically skips back to our ship. She’s definitely on some kind of high after kicking serious ass in the arena and seeing her friend from Harvest House, I think she said her name was Carmen. I make a mental note to talk to the guys and ensure Shiloh gets to see her again. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our little flyer happy and running like that so her mouth-watering tits bounce for me to watch.

  “You aimed like a fucking sharpshooter!” I commend her, squeezing her tightly to my side.

  “Yeah! Where did you learn to do that?” Joss asks.

  Shiloh shrugs. “Carmen taught me a thing or two at Harvest House, but I never actually fired a weapon before. I just—I wanted to impress you guys, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

  “We are more than impressed, tiny warrior,” Trov adds. “Half of Olin was watching your friend Carmen, the other half had their eyes on you.”

  Shiloh blushes a beautiful shade of red that creeps from her cheeks to her chest, which is practically falling out of the meagre top she has on.

  I fucking wish it would. I find myself cheering for the zipper to unravel itself like some fucking pervert. I don’t know why, but the thought of her strutting around topless while we walk back to our ship…all the citizens watching her perfect breasts bouncing as she walks…her nipples hardening from the attention…

  It’s official.

  My mind has fallen into the gutter and found my hard cock on the way down.

  Not sorry.

  Instead, Nul, the gentlemen he is, reaches over and gently zips the precarious zipper back into place.

  Vekking bastard.

  He and I need to have a very serious talk about the importance of boobs and not disrupting their incredibly important mission.

  The walk back is uneventful. The twin suns drift below the horizon, causing a gorgeous smattering of colours to paint the sky of Oxious. Shiloh watches the atmosphere with a look of contentment on her face. I think it’s safe to say she finally feels like she belongs here, and that makes me happy.

  She tells us about things she and her Harvest Girls used to do back on Earth. How they would imagine what their mates looked like. She told us about the guards, Twen and Gern, admitting how she prayed we would not look like them.

  If she thinks her guards were ugly, just wait until she sees a Yarek.

  The ride back to J-Lo is quick, and before we know it, we’re exiting the loading dock and jumping into the morfka.

  After punching in the coordinates for the war room, I tug Shiloh out and tell my brots, “You guys go on ahead. I’ll see that Shiloh makes it back to her room in one piece.”

  Even though I have every intention of spearing her in half.

  Joss opens his mouth to argue, but before he can spit a word out, the doors close in his face.

  Shiloh laughs and hits my chest. “You’re so bad!”

  “Finally, someone has noticed,” I joke, wiggling my eyebrows. She laughs again and threads her fingers through mine. My heart flutters a little. It is such a simple gesture, yet it carries so much meaning.

  When the doors open once more, we enter the vacant car, and I take us back to her room. The morfka accesses Shiloh’s space through the floor.

  I guide her inside, then turn her to look at me, resting my hands on her small shoulders. “Okay, little flyer. We have nothing else planned for the day. Take a shower, eat some food, and just relax. Okay?”

  “Well. Umm. Speaking of showers…” She blushes.

  Dammit.

  Why does she always have to do that?

  Her blushing is like foreplay for my damn cock.

  She watches me expectantly, and I wonder if she’s asked me a question I didn’t hear when thinking about her in the shower—no, her blushing in the shower.

  I think I growled because her eyebrows shoot up.

  “Umm, can you show me how to work the shower?”

  Oh. That’s what she wanted.

  “I tried when I was in here earlier, but considering I blew up a ship the last time I pressed random buttons, I didn’t want to risk it again.” She smiles up at me. So beautiful. So perfect. What I wouldn’t give to strip her down and give her hours of pleasure.

  But that time will come.

  For now, I’ll just tease her and walk around with the largest set of blue balls Oxious space has ever seen.

  “Of course I will,” I reply, remembering to respond this time. We walk over to the shower together, and I show her which buttons work the temperature, the massager head, soap dispensers, and music.

  “Can I show you one more thing before I go?” I inquire, keeping my face straight even though I’m plotting ev
il things.

  “Sure! What is it?”

  “This.” I shove her into the shower and turn it on. I watch long enough to see her clothes quickly become transparent under the spray. I stare at her wet tits for only a moment before running from her room, laughing.

  “Cryk! You fucking asshole!” I hear, as I enter the morfka and sink through the floor.

  I’m still chuckling when I enter the war room. The guys all turn to me with unreadable faces. And that’s when I see footage of Shiloh’s room up on the central tablet.

  “Uhh… What’s going on, guys?”

  Trov shakes his head. “What you did was—”

  “Fucking hilarious!” I interrupt. “I know, right?”

  His stoic demeanour breaks, and he busts out in laughter. “It was. Did you see the look on her face?”

  “No!” I tell him honestly. “I was too busy staring at her tits!”

  We all laugh at that.

  Nul orders a round of grapt and some finger foods from the replicator before bringing up the map of our solar system. Our demeanour quickly changes from jovial to hostile as we begin to discuss the Yarek threat.

  “Probe scans show three new targets.” Nul shows us the locations on the map. One is hovering near Earth—no surprise there. They haven’t left the planet alone since we eradicated them from the planet. The Yarek are like vultures, always ready to take advantage of the misfortune of others, even if it means stealing from the dead.

  “The target near Oxious has been tricky to plot,” Nul continues. “One minute, it’s under the planet, then the next, it’s on the western border.”

  “Smells like a trap,” Trov growls. “They are tricking us. Playing with us. Trying to keep us confused.”

  “Well, it’s working.” Joss clicks on his tablet and brings up a visual of the recent ship we fought. “There have also been some changes to the hull of their goulygs. See this large addition on its flank?” He points to some extra metal section I would not have taken a second look at. This is why he is a science expert and I’m not.