Seduced by the Alien Mercenary (Monster Mercenary Mates #10)

Prologue

Flack

The party was in full swing. Gladiators and mercenaries mingled with mates and younglings.

It was the kind of party I had never expected to see a crew like that of the Varakartoom enjoy, but here we were.

It made my heart ache fiercely in my chest, and I struggled to enjoy it the way so many of my brothers did.

Most of us had rough pasts, but seeing family, that was always my trigger.

Asmoded was swaying with his mate in his arms on the improvised dancing area.

The small face of their son, Rai-Long, peeking out over Asmoded’s shoulder.

The captain and his family were blissfully happy and together.

Their child was wanted and loved, and even Asmoded’s adult son from another female was welcome in Mandy’s circle.

He was nearby; Harper, another human mate, was attempting to teach him how to dance, his face stoic but his eyes gleaming happily.

It stuck in my chest like a barb to see the happy couples, but it hurt the most to watch those with kits.

Some adopted, some biological offspring, all theirs.

Even the small group of huddled teenaged former gladiators the gladiator ship had adopted made me ache.

Five boys of various species, including something as dangerous and unlovable as a Hoxiam, and they had a home.

I wondered what that was like and couldn’t.

“Hey,” a voice said from my left. I hadn’t heard him come, but I’d scented his approach, winding around people to reach me long before this moment.

Kitan. The gladiator Sune who now piloted the Vagabond, and, if I believed Aramon, a pilot of great skill.

Far more interesting, this Sune was proudly displaying the triple plume of his tail.

He was a true shifter, not just any Sune, but one capable of taking any form he liked.

Revered, expected to be a priest, and powerful.

I arched an eyebrow at him, propping myself casually against a stack of crates holding bottles of Rummicaron ale.

Most were empty at this point, and they rattled as I shifted.

“What do you want?” I drawled. Feeling on edge, I struggled to find my usual charm.

“I’m not open for business tonight,” I added, though that wasn’t strictly true.

I’d arranged several deals earlier in the evening, and managed to get my hands on a bottle of “Dom Pérignon” for some of the human ladies to share.

“I just thought maybe you’d like to go for a four-legged run?

” Kitan responded. He came to stand next to me, his shoulder not quite touching mine.

He wore a leather weapon kilt and sturdy boots, unarmed save for the claws on his hands.

A redhead, the natural pigmentation that marked his skin in places was also a deep, reddish tan—stripes across his ribs, his face, and his biceps.

They weren’t much different from the ones that marked my flesh beneath my armor, though mine were a silvery white like my hair.

“I could go for that,” I agreed slowly, my mind spinning.

When was the last time I’d fully shifted and just ran?

Stretched my paws and felt the grass beneath them?

Touched the earth? Not in a while, and I didn’t even know how that had happened.

Busy, perhaps. There was something very different about running with another, too, and at the moment I was the only Sune on the Varakartoom.

He jerked his chin in the direction of the forest in the distance and slipped away from the party on silent feet.

I followed, my pulse spiking and my palms growing slick with sweat as I watched the way his triple tail flicked through the night air.

Three tails made him a myth, while my...

quirk... just made me a failure, a disappointment.

If Kitan so chose, he could return to Sune as a lost son and be welcomed into the arms of the Suleantran Order as a high priest. Me? There was no place in all of the Sune worlds that would want me. Unlike Kitan, I could pretend very well that I was normal. He’d never know unless I told him.

We approached a copse of trees and bushes a little ways off from the landing strip where both the Varakartoom and the Vagabond had landed.

More ships created hulking shadows farther away, and the port buzzed with life and light as it continued loading and unloading cargo ships in the distance.

Overhead, slowly approaching lights indicated a ship coming in for a landing nearby, but the stand of trees was private and secluded.

Ahead of me, Kitan casually yanked his boots off and shed the leather kilt. A transformation slid through his body like quicksilver until he landed on four paws as a massive, red-furred beast. A fox, as the humans on the ship would say.

He gave me a golden-eyed stare full of impatience, his paws dancing across the dirt. Tails tipped with white flicked at me as if to say, “Hurry up, you slowpoke.” It surprised a laugh out of me, a hint of excitement.

Touching the tab at the collar of my armor, I quickly peeled the upper layers from my flesh.

Unlike most armor Ysa had created for the Varakartoom’s crew, mine was in several pieces.

That way, I could choose to only wear parts of it depending on my shape.

The top half came off quickly, and then I toed off my boots and peeled the pants from my legs.

Cold air whispered across my skin, but Kitan’s golden stare didn’t bother me as I shifted.

Moments later, I was covered in a thick silver pelt, and I swiveled my ears left and right as I picked up sounds—better, louder.

My nose twitched, scents filtering through my brain until, yes, prey to hunt; it had passed through.

I flicked my single tail, stretched out my body as I tested my muscles, then began running.

Kitan yipped once, then followed close on my heels, the two of us weaving through the dark forest on four legs.

Claws digging into the dirt, scents of damp earth releasing beneath our paws.

I stretched my neck, tracked the scent, and reveled in the presence of the other at my heels.

Not chasing me, but working together to find the prey we’d both scented.

Pack, family, all the things I couldn’t have.

In the dark, that briefly fell away, and the feeling of belonging only grew when our little pack grew in size.

A slinky black beast joined our run, as well as a male on two legs who seemed to disappear into the dark as though he were invisible.

Only his scent gave him away: Fierce, and his bonded Ferai beast.

The four of us worked together to capture the deer-like Rakex prey we’d tracked.

Circling, hunting, then going in for the kill together, and sharing the feast. I’d never seen an alien crunch bones like Fierce could, but that didn’t matter.

In that moment, we were brothers, the four of us.

It was a good run, a better hunt, and I hadn’t known I’d needed that until after Kitan had extended the invitation.

With our prey consumed and the skin carefully taken by Fierce, we circled back to the ships and the party.

It had grown louder and rowdier in our absence, though a ship had landed nearby and partially blocked our path when we paused by our clothes and got dressed again.

Kitan shifted first, while Fierce and his beast went ahead, silently disappearing into the night without ever saying a word.

I hadn’t shifted yet, but stood over my clothes, wondering when I’d stopped doing this.

“I’ll wait for you,” Kitan offered, but I shook my head and huffed, then jerked my snout at the party still in full swing.

“You sure?” he asked, and I nodded again.

Perhaps he’d wanted to talk more after the run, but he shrugged casually and jogged off, unbothered.

I contemplated whether I should call him back, tell him my secret.

If anyone could understand—perhaps help—it was him.

I didn’t, though, watching him get swallowed by the light, his mate greeting him on the edge of the gathering and jumping into his arms with a laugh.

I shifted slowly, pulling on my pants while lost deep in thought.

Was it enough? The family I had aboard the Varakartoom?

Was it time I moved on, like I always did?

My skin twitched over my leg, where I’d recently allowed Thatcher to mark my flesh with his tattoo kit, etching a map I’d asked Solear to design onto my skin so I could never lose it.

Stomping my feet into my boots, I considered the shape of the ship that had been home to me for the past five years.

As its Quartermaster, I’d excelled, using my skills to keep the ship running smoothly and my brothers happy and well supplied.

I’d amassed a small fortune playing Keflo against the crew, too, as well as getting paid for all the side deals.

If I wanted, I could retire to a nice, quiet homestead somewhere far away from Sune and never worry about anything.

Except my skin itched at the thought of that.

“You thought you could get away, did you?” a voice drawled from my left.

It caught me so by surprise that I jerked and twisted, nearly stumbling into the nearby tree.

Granted, I’d had more than my fair share of Rummicaron ale at this point, but that still shouldn’t have allowed anyone to sneak up on me.

Noise was rising from the party too, voices calling loudly, jeering. A brawl erupted in a flash, probably led by Aramon and his twin, Solear. I couldn’t allow that to distract me, though, because that voice, I knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Dimon,” I drawled. My hand dropped to the knife sheath built into my pants, and I discovered the holster was empty.

“What brings you here, old friend?” The ship—I knew it now—the one that had landed between the Varakartoom and the spot where we’d shed our clothes and shifted.

It was the ship I’d run from last, my previous attempt at finding the place where I belonged. Dimon’s ship.

“Flack,” he responded, his maw opening wide in a grin that was all malice. The feeling was mutual. Dimon was a piece of trash who’d taken advantage of my skills back when I was still wide-eyed and hopeful. He and his crew of pirates had taught me there was only one person I could trust: me.

I heard her come up from behind me and turned to face the attack coming from the rear.

Xathena always did move fast, though, and in the five years since I’d last seen her, she’d honed her skills even further.

The blow struck the back of my head before I could dodge it, and the world went dim around me.