Vayne Palldyn, Sovereign of the planet Nibiru, is determined that his species not become extinct, and will take revenge on those who unleashed that genetic bio weapon. His kind has kidnapped human women before, and despite the Treaty none returned to Earth—the Shadalla have a biological advantage in seducing Chosen mates.
Honorably discharged warrior Neira Grekhov boards the starship Astris, seeking peace but succumbing to soul sickness. Until the Astris is boarded by pirates.
Spying Neira ferociously defending her fellow passengers, Vayne pursues her, as his Chosen. Neira resists, and despite healing her emotionally the Sovereign wonders if he must concede defeat at the hands of this infuriating woman.
Then the stars align and truths are discovered…
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A significantly smaller figure, dressed completely in black, waded into the triangle of pirates. It laid Barek low with well-placed blows to his knees and an uppercut to his jaw as he fell to the ground. The baton inflicting the punishment flashed in a blur of movement to match the warrior’s whirling grace. Vayne was already moving to assist when the fighting dervish dealt with Duff, body moving with grace and deadly intent, bringing the pirate down with punishment to his kidneys. Short black hair gleamed in the harsh lighting as the warrior spun to take on Captain Ristos.
Vayne used his shocker, nearly catching one slender, black clad shoulder as their opponent made contact with Ristos’ ribcage, the baton making a dull, wet sound. But the little warrior whirled out of range, turning to renew the attack, and the bolt spent itself harmlessly against the bulkhead. Vayne’s cock filled and stood at full attention, causing him considerable discomfort in his tight-fitting space uniform. By the shades of Turco, it was a female. He locked eyes with orbs a brilliant shade of the golden gemstones so prized on his planet before she charged, moving gracefully on the balls of her bare feet.
“He dies!” Duff’s howl cut through the tension as Vayne prepared to defend himself, and the female halted, stumbling as she did so. Duff held his weapon at the young male’s throat, vicious intent written across his features.
“No, don’t,” the lithe beauty called out, and Vayne watched, transfixed, as she dropped to her knees, carefully laying down the lethal weapon she used so efficiently. She then clasped her hands behind her neck.
Nothing in her posture spoke of true submission, but it didn’t matter to Vayne’s cock. That appendage throbbed painfully and he was at a loss as to how to calm it. Never had he ever… Vayne struggled to make his body move. Ristos moved first.
Kicking aside the baton, he gestured to Duff, who released his hold on the still-unconscious young male. Was this woman attached to the man? Vayne shook his head. It didn’t matter. She was now his.
Ristos bent and clipped a pair of solar cuffs around the woman’s wrists, and Vayne approved of how efficient the captain was, yet afforded the little female respect. He wasn’t the only male to appreciate her attempt to defend this deck. The restraints emitted slight whirring sounds as they engaged. Charged by any light source, they were virtually impervious to tampering and would open only to the owner’s print. Vayne pulled the control from the captain’s hand, entered his own print to replace that of Ristos’, then crushed the control beneath his boot.
As desperate as the Shadalla were, their scientists had confirmed the compatibility of Earth females to breed and bear their children, and some of his species’ males had actually found their chosen. Gone was Vayne’s need to merely pick a female out of the women on this ship, using careful parameters to ensure she was suited for his position, able to bear his children, and of a nature and appearance to stimulate his desires in order to put those offspring in her belly. Royal concubines weren’t unheard of, after all, and the odds of him finding a chosen were slight. But he couldn’t look any further, impossibly drawn to this imperious warrior at his feet. And should he ever be fortunate enough to find an actual chosen mate, this lovely woman would retain concubine status, regardless.
“Bring the men out. Offer. I’ll send my exec to scrutinize the females.” He wasn’t that overwhelmed to forget he had a duty to other men in his service.
He reached down and fit a hand under the elbow of the female, and his world turned upside down. The physical attraction had been immediate, granted. But the instant he touched her and her scent enveloped him, his brain exploded with a revelation he’d only experienced once in his life—and a very subdued and pale version at that. One manipulated by science. Vayne didn’t need another minute with her to understand the symptoms and wished to shout his joy out loud. She was a chosen and not his future concubine. She came up with the lightness of gossamer, and only his quick reflexes saved him from a knee to the groin as he turned to catch the blow on his thigh. Little spitfire.
Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.
Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.